“I’m adjusting.” Penny’s affirmative words were belittled by the furrowing of her brow. “It can be hard some days. Are you from the area?”
“I came over from Beijing to study at UCLA, so I understand what you’re going through. It’s lonely without family. Especially out here. Something about this city wrings it out of you.”
“Yes!” Penny’s eyes widened with agreement. “You just can’t understand unless you’ve been through it. Sometimes I feel so stupid for giving up my life back home—where I had everything—to come out here where I have nothing.”
Against all the odds, Eliza found herself softening further toward this young woman. Two lost souls felled before the same dark knight. Was Penny really all that different than Eliza had been when she’d first arrived in Los Angeles? Innocent, hopeful, a promising transplant to a starry-eyed city who had fallen in love with Roman’s charms?
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Eliza said. “If you don’t try, you’ll never know if you could have succeeded. I’d rather die trying.”
“Me too. I can’t imagine how it feels to be at the top. I mean, look at you. It’s all worth it, huh? All the hard work?”
Eliza pressed the wineglass hard against her bottom lip to keep from giving her honest answer. Because the honest answer wasn’t pretty, just like her life. Her hard work had earned her a husband who strayed and finances that were in ruins. It had earned her a constant state of anxiety that droned endlessly in the background, the buzz, buzz, buzz of a persistent bee.
But she couldn’t say any of that. Penny was so desperately starved for hope that it was almost pathetic. She’d opened to Eliza like a flower to the sun, leaning hungrily toward her in search of friendship. Eliza couldn’t destroy the last vestiges of naive hope. If Penny wilted, it would be of her own doing.
“Everything in life comes at a cost.” Eliza compromised with the gray line between truth and lies. “There are always consequences.”
Blinking, Penny leaned against the counter. Eliza wondered if she was thinking of her affair with Roman and sizing up what Eliza knew. Consequences, consequences.
Not for the first time, Eliza wondered why she had invited Penny into her home. The emailed invitation had been crafted late at night and accompanied by a heady dose of wine-fueled confidence. The next morning, when Eliza had woken up with a headache and a response in her inbox, it had been too late to back out.
She’d spent days trying to justify her actions. The saintly side of Eliza chirped that the spontaneous invite had been an act of kindness, a way of looking out for the young girl who’d been swooped under her husband’s dark wing. She was keeping an eye on Penny, watching to see how the fallout would go.
The ambivalent side of Eliza barked that it was curiosity—and nothing more—that had prompted the invitation. Who was the other woman? The younger, prettier, sweeter, kinder woman who’d stolen her husband’s eye. Had it been Penny who’d gone after Roman, or had it been the other way around?
But the truly honest part of Eliza wondered if it was from a place of hurt. If the tiny vestiges of vulnerability that were left of Eliza, the part buried so deep, it took half a bottle of red to tease them out, had spurred her to act. In a way, Eliza was proud that a sensitive part of her still existed, proud that Roman hadn’t taken that, too. Beneath Eliza’s hardened, calloused outer layers, there was still a rawness left inside her—deep down maybe, but it was there. And that raw, hopeful young woman had once loved Roman Tate.
Fortunately for Penny, she was saved from an awkward conversation by another knock. Eliza excused herself and made her way to the front entrance. She opened the door to find a familiar face smiling back at her. Familiar but different.
Speaking of wilted, Eliza thought with one glance at her friend. Poor Anne.
“Sorry I’m late,” Anne said robotically. “Kids.”
“We haven’t started yet. Are you feeling okay? You look a little peaked.”
“Lots going on,” Anne said with the glimmer of a long-lost smile. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’d just ruin the night for everyone. Do you have wine?”
“I do…if you’re sure that will help?” Eliza led Anne through the hallway and into the kitchen.
In answer, Anne reached for the bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. To the tippy, tippy top.
“Well, book club is a safe space to discuss your problems,” Eliza said. “Especially since we’re among friends. Obviously, no introductions are needed, since the two of you already know each other, so let’s get started.”
Penny already had a canapé in her mouth. “It’s good to see you, Anne. How’d Gretchen do on her history test this week?”
“Aced it,” Anne said with a weak smile. “Thanks to you of course.”
Penny waved Anne off like it was nothing.
“Are you sure I can’t get you wine, Penny?” Eliza asked, politely ignoring Anne’s empty glass. “We have a little left.”
“I’ll take her portion if she’s abstaining.” Anne extended her glass. “I guess I was thirsty.”
“It’s yours.” Penny nodded toward Anne. “I’m not feeling well. Bit of a stomach bug.”
Anne’s eyes followed Penny’s hand as it went to her belly. “Are you pregnant?”
Penny’s mouth popped open in shock.
“Oh God!” Anne’s face went red with embarrassment. “That’s the wine talking. I’m such an idiot, and it’s none of my business. Forget I said anything. It’s just…you told me you were seeing that guy, and—”
“You’re seeing someone?” Eliza’s grip tightened. “Is it new? How exciting. Come on, spill. We need the details.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Penny said. “Really, it’s stupid.”
“I’m the stupid one,” Anne said. “I can’t believe I said that. Seriously, it’s the wine. I haven’t had a drink in ages.”
Eliza knew that to be a lie. She wondered if Penny was lying, too. Were they all lying?
“No, you’re right,” Penny said. “I was seeing a guy, but things sort of petered out.”
“Then it’s a good thing you aren’t pregnant, isn’t it?” Anne chuckled nervously and sipped more wine. “Anyhoo, enough of that. Take it away, Eliza. How does book club work?”
“Well, as you know, I invited you all here to discuss Marguerite’s New York Times bestseller, Take Charge. Her next book is coming out in a few months, so I thought we could have that be our second read.”
“Works for me,” Anne said, her words beginning to slur ever so slightly. “Even though I only read the first half of the book. Okay, that’s a lie. I skimmed it. Nope, I read the chapter headings. I have four kids. I don’t have time to read!”
“Just read the next one,” Eliza said. “That’s the important bit anyway. Now bring your glasses and follow me.”
The three women took their books into the sitting room. Eliza and Anne carried their wineglasses with them. Penny asked for a coaster for her sparkling water. Each of them pulled out her book; Penny’s was worn and ragged, Anne’s was unopened but had a splatter of something that looked like ketchup on the outside, and Eliza’s looked brand new.