It was just a matter of picking the right moment for their escape. They agreed that they should wait until the holidays were over and then take off together to start their own life. Jack loved her girls; it was another bone of contention with him and Tierney that she refused to get pregnant. She was confident that he would be a spectacular stepfather. Leelee had secret hopes for a honeymoon baby, perhaps a little boy. How cute would a miniature Jack be? Sure, Brad would be hurt, but he knew. He knew deep down that she and Jack were meant to be.
When Leelee returned home from Pilates class (she was making an extra effort to look good these days) she was humming “Sweet Child o’ Mine” and fantasizing about her future life. She took a long, hot shower and decorated the Oval Office in her mind (for she just knew Jack would follow in his father’s footsteps and become a senator and later even president) and didn’t hear the door to the bathroom open. When she slid open the shower curtain she was startled to see Brad standing there in the steamy bathroom.
“Who’s Cooldude?” he asked quietly.
God. [email protected] was Jack’s user name! How did Brad know that?
She feigned nonchalance and reached for a towel. “What are you talking about?” she asked calmly. “And what are you doing home already?”
“I got home early. Who’s Cooldude?” he repeated.
Leelee knotted the towel around her and then picked up another to dry her hair. She flung her head down and wrapped the second towel in a turban around her head before she answered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, reaching for a bottle of cream on the counter and pumping a small drop into her hand.
Brad stared at her, carefully watching her reaction. “I went to send an e-mail on the computer and there was a message in your in-box from some Cooldude. Talking about running away together, how annoying his wife was, love…does this ring any bells?” he asked, his voice rising.
Leelee stopped and stared at him. Should she tell him now? He looked so pissed off, it would be so easy to pull the plug, to say Cooldude was Jack and he was taking her away from her measly little life forever. But she watched as Brad waited, and she stopped herself. Jack had said to wait. So she would.
“If you have to know, then okay. Cooldude is Victoria’s lover. They’ve been having an affair for months. She uses my computer to e-mail him so that Justin won’t find out.”
Brad squinted his eyes slightly to study Leelee’s face more carefully, but she retained her poker face. Finally his shoulders sagged.
“That’s despicable. I can’t believe Victoria would do that to Justin,” said Brad, his eyes still glued on Leelee.
Leelee calmly spread the cream all over her legs in circular motions. “I guess. But remember, you thought that he was cheating on her anyway.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” said Brad. “You have to think of the children.”
The children. Right, thought Leelee, her stomach sinking for the first time in ages. If she was to put her children first, she’d be stuck here in this crap house for the rest of her life. Charming, cozy, yes, but this is not how her life should be. She felt claustrophobic. Should she really sacrifice her happiness for theirs? And besides, it wouldn’t be a sacrifice, because they loved Jack and he could provide for them on a much larger scale than their father.
“Yes, well, maybe Victoria just wants to be happy,” said Leelee.
Brad had been walking out the door, but he turned around to look at Leelee. “Maybe she just has to grow up. Life isn’t a fairy tale. There are no happily-ever-afters. No princes.”
Leelee looked at him and wondered if he knew. Naw, there was no way. No way. Even if he found the e-mail, there was no way he knew it was between her and Jack. But she was a complete fool to leave it open and would have to be more careful.
“You’re my prince, darling,” she said with a smile.
Brad stared at her for a long time. “I was once,” he said sadly. “I hope I still am.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, and left the bathroom.
•• 28 ••
After Daniela, Helen slept with Parker. He was great at sex, but that was all. It was almost sad. Her friends had given her carte blanche to express herself and tap in to her soul, to unleash her inner woman that had been suppressed for so long. And yet, she didn’t feel unleashed. She didn’t feel liberated or exhilarated or satisfied in any way. In fact, she was starting to feel kind of dirty.
She had been so preoccupied with her new love life that she had not spent much time with Lauren (or Wesley, for that matter), so when she found herself near Lauren’s school at two-forty she called Wesley and told him that she would pick her up for a change. His surprised reaction pissed her off. She was a good mother—was he implying otherwise? She felt herself getting madder and madder as she parked the car and walked up the steps to Lauren’s school. She watched as the other mothers greeted each other. Obviously they did this every day. She felt a little left out— no one stopped to chat with her and some barely even said hello. It was as if she had committed a crime by not picking Lauren up every day. Well, unlike these ladies, she had her art to pursue. Her photography. If they were doing something important, they might not be so judgmental. She stood up a little higher, looking haughtily at the other ladies, all in their workout clothes, until she saw Martha West. She was an environmental lawyer. Well, there was one working mom who made it to pick up her kid, but she owned her own firm. Then she saw Hannah Tassin, and Melanie Lutz, and Brooke Pelham. They all worked. And they were all here. Helen slunk down a little.
“Where’s Dad?” asked Lauren as soon as she saw her mom.
“Dad’s at home. How are you, sweetie?” said Helen, reaching down to kiss her daughter on the cheek.
Lauren looked at her oddly. “Is he okay?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t he be?”
“What are you doing here then?” she asked suspiciously.
Helen felt her face burn. “Can’t I pick you up from school? Is it so unusual?”
Lauren gave her mother a quizzical look, but then softened. “Sure. I’m just used to Daddy getting me. Are you going to take me to ballet also?”
“You have ballet today?” asked Helen. She realized she knew nothing about her daughter’s life. Sure, she’d scheduled all of these classes, but she’d never taken her. She couldn’t remember the last time she actually spent time with Lauren. She looked at her beautiful daughter, who had a long swinging ponytail and gorgeous chocolate brown eyes, and felt so sad that she thought her heart would burst. “Of course I’ll take you to ballet. I would love to.”
Her daughter took her hand in hers and they walked to the parking lot. She glanced down every now and then at this magical little creature with the Strawberry Shortcake backpack and couldn’t believe what a fool she’d been. Being with her daughter made the numbness subside. All of those strong feelings that she thought she’d get with another man were nothing compared to what she felt now. This was home. She finally comprehended what she had to do. She had to drop out of the infidelity pact. She had to put her family together again.
She opened the car door for Lauren and was about to get in the driver’s seat when she heard someone calling her name. She whipped around. It was Anson Larrabee.
“Hey, Anson, how’s it going?”
Anson was wearing Nantucket Red pants and a large Irish sweater. He looked absurd.
“Hello, Helen, how are you?” he asked.
“Fine. Just taking my daughter to ballet,” she said wearily. What did he want?
“That’s fabulous. Everyone will be thrilled to see you with your daughter. You’ve been MIA for quite some time. Didn’t know if you and your hubby had split or what.”
“No, we’re together,” she said curtly. Who did he think he was?
“Lovely,” he said, his blue eyes boring into her. He leaned in and whispered, “You’re the one I don’t know what to make of. It’s a real hoot, ’cause I know
Victoria’s secret—pardon the pun. Oh, that’s a funny one.” He paused to laugh at his inane joke. “And I know Eliza’s secret, and I even know Leelee’s secret—the gem if you ask me—but I don’t know your secret exactly. What could it be?”
Helen was more pissed than worried. This man was a pathetic human being who did not deserve one smidgeon of her attention.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but whatever it is, I’m sure you’re totally confused,” she said brusquely.
Anson laughed a hearty laugh and then stopped. “I’m not talking about the infidelity pact. I know y’all are cheaters. I’m talking about the secrets y’all are keeping from each other. Victoria has one, Eliza has one, and Leelee has one, and believe me, you would be surprised what they are. I’m just waiting on yours. And I’m sure I won’t be disappointed, darlin’,” he said, glowering at her dismissal of him.
Helen felt herself get panicky. “We have no secrets. You’re confused.”
“Don’t lie to me!” he said, stomping his foot for effect. He wagged his finger in her face. “You think you’re safe, but you’re not. Your friends haven’t told you everything. Your house of cards is about to come crashin’ down. And when it does, I’ll be there!”
He turned and walked away. He had a balloon butt, Helen noticed as she watched him go. That was all that was racing through her mind, because everything else was too impossible to consider.
“Who was that, Mommy?” asked Lauren when she got in the car.
“This loser,” said Helen, backing up.
Lauren laughed. “We have one of those in our class.”
Through the entire ballet class, Helen was haunted by what Anson had said. What secret could her friends have that they didn’t tell her? Anson knew about the infidelity pact—he knew the name, even. How? Who was his confidante? Had her friends all planned this together just to get her? She was getting paranoid. She tried to call them from her cell, but no one answered. That made her even more panicky. What if they were all together somewhere and plotting something? She decided to drive straight over to Eliza’s after she dropped Lauren off at home.
Declan answered when she rang the doorbell.
“Hey, Declan—is Eliza here?” she asked.
“She had to go to a screening of the new Michelle Pfeiffer movie. She’s interviewing her for Chat. Do you want to come in?” he asked, opening the door and running to the kitchen. “I’m making dinner for the kids. Juana ran out to get milk, and the stove is bubbling over…”
Helen followed his voice into the kitchen. Donovan and Bridget were watching television in the eating nook, and Declan was trying to manage the boiling water for the SpongeBob macaroni while taking out the chicken breasts from the oven.
“Sorry…hectic,” he said.
“Can I help?”
Helen set to work pouring the powdered neon cheese and butter into the noodles and stirring them around. “This color is disgusting.”
“I agree. I can’t believe I’m feeding it to my kids. But they love it,” said Declan.
“Gross.”
After the kids were all set up with dinner, Juana returned with the milk and Declan was able to lead Helen to the living room.
“Want a drink?”
“No thanks. Wait, yes, I would actually,” Helen said. She definitely needed something to take the edge off.
“Vodka? Wine? Beer?” he asked, motioning to the bar.
“Whatever,” she said, flopping on the couch. “Vodka. Straight.”
Declan went over to the bar and poured her a drink from one of the crystal decanters with a smile. “Rough day?”
Something about his sympathetic tone made Helen burst into tears. “I’m sorry…”
“Whoa,” he said, bringing the drink over. “Rough day.”
Helen did everything in her power to stop crying to get a hold of herself, to relax, but she was unable to. She had never realized what a profound effect her infidelity was having on her.
“Sorry,” she said, between sobs.
Declan rose to get her a tissue, but when he couldn’t find one, he grabbed a paper cocktail napkin from the bar and handed it to her. “It’s okay. You don’t even have to tell me,” he said.
That made her cry harder. He was so sweet. All of their husbands were so sweet. Okay, except maybe not Justin.
“Hey, let’s do a shot. Then we’ll feel much better,” said Declan. He went over and opened a bottle of tequila, and poured it into two of the small Irish shot glasses that had been a wedding present.
“I’m Irish, so taking a nip of the good stuff is like medicine for us,” he said, attempting a joke.
She drank it quickly and the liquor burned her throat.
“I’m okay,” she said between sobs.
“Can I help?” he asked. “Is it Wesley? Lauren?” he asked, patting her on the back.
“We’ve made a terrible mistake…” she said, crying. She was on the verge of telling him everything. How they all decided to cheat, how she felt like a slut, how it wasn’t going as planned. But then a cold clarity seized her and she stopped herself. No, she couldn’t break the pact. She had promised. Okay, so maybe she had promised to love, honor, and cherish her husband and not cheat on him and she’d broken those promises also, but she couldn’t do it to her friends. At the very least, she could say that she was loyal to her friends.
Helen suddenly straightened up, wiped her eyes, and smiled at Declan. “Sorry, Declan. It’s just been a bad day.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No, if it’s okay,” she said, staring at him.
“Some days are just like that,” said Declan, awkwardly patting her on the back.
•• 29 ••
“I can’t believe I just lied to Declan. I told him I had to go to a screening tonight, and here I am staking out your lover’s house,” Eliza said to Victoria as they sat in the car outside Wayne’s driveway.
“And I totally appreciate it,” said Victoria. She was staring intently at the house, trying to see if she could decipher Wayne’s whereabouts through the window.
“We’ve really gone to hell in a handbasket,” said Eliza.
Victoria stopped and turned toward her. “I really appreciate your doing this. You can’t imagine how psycho this guy is. If I had had any idea…” Her voice trailed off, and for the first time in months Eliza saw Victoria’s eyes well up with tears.
“It’s okay. After tonight, hopefully he’ll back off,” said Eliza, leaning in to give her friend a hug. Victoria was the least huggy person she knew, a true tactophobe, but this time she hugged back.
“Tell me honestly: do you really think Anson knows something?” asked Victoria.
“Yes. But what or how, I do not know,” said Eliza, turning down the air-conditioning. Everyone in L.A. always had the air-conditioning running in the car, no matter what time of year it is, thought Eliza. She didn’t want to think about Anson. It scared her.
“Do you think Leelee told him?” asked Victoria.
“Why Leelee?” asked Eliza.
“I don’t know. She seems so immature. I kind of regret including her in this.”
“But she’s the one who is so gung-ho now. She’s actually planning on leaving her husband for Jack.”
“She’s a fool. He’ll never leave his wife. But that’s the problem. Leelee is indiscreet. And she has all those irritating Junior League Palisades mom friends, who are like Valley of the Dolls, Stepford Wives. I’m sure she blabbed to them.” Victoria shuddered at the thought of those clones.
“I don’t think Leelee talked. Anson must have overheard us somewhere.”
“He actually stopped me on the street the other day and said he wanted to talk to me,” said Victoria. “I said another time. I don’t want to deal with him.”
“You didn’t!” said Eliza, horrified. “You can’t blow him off, Vic. We need to find out what he knows exactly, and what he’s going to do with this information. He’s becomin
g dangerous…”
“Look! He’s here. He turned on the lights in his screening room. Let’s go,” said Victoria.
“I’m nauseous,” said Eliza. “You know I’m a terrible actress.”
“I’ll do all the talking.”
Victoria grabbed her bag and they both got out of the car and walked up to the house. When Wayne answered the door, he looked surprised.
“Today’s your lucky day, baby,” said Victoria, giving him a wet kiss. “This is my friend. She wants to do the threesome with us.”
Wayne gave Eliza the once-over. “Great, come on in,” he said.
He disgusted Eliza. How could Victoria sleep with this sleazeball? She sure had terrible taste in men.
Eliza glanced around the modern living room, noticing at once that Wayne had an obsession with all things electrical and went in for all that black leather furniture that single men love. Gross, she thought, as she sat down on a wingback chair.
“Let’s get this party started,” said Wayne.
“Let’s get some drinks. Then we’ll get started. Oh, and maybe some blow?” she asked.
Eliza’s eyes turned into saucers, but Victoria gave her a disapproving shrug. Don’t worry, she mouthed.
And she was right. Wayne ended up doing all the cocaine himself. And after about four gin and tonics, he was totally wired. Luckily he was an egotist, so he was perfectly content maintaining a diatribe throughout the entire evening about all of the celebrities that he was best friends with and how important he was in Hollywood.
“I need to use the restroom,” said Victoria finally.
“You know where it is, baby,” he said, not interrupting his story about Ben Affleck. Eliza was pretending to be really impressed to keep him talking as long as possible.
Victoria made her way to Wayne’s bedroom. She had been able to do some snooping around in the past, so she knew where he kept his videotapes, but she had never had enough time to find the one that she needed. What a scumbag. She walked over to his bookshelves and pushed aside the fake bound books. Classy. Only a guy like this would have props in his bedroom. Behind them was his stash of videos, and Victoria popped one in the VCR. Eliza had been warned to say “I’d love ice cream!” really loudly if Wayne was approaching, so Victoria sat on the edge of the bed to watch.
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