Then I peeled out of the driveway and hit the open road into town. We zipped through the city in my dad’s car that handled better than anything else I’d ever driven. I’d only been behind the driver’s seat a handful of times, and all had been with my dad’s supervision. He’d probably go through the roof if he knew that my mom had sent us out in it.
“You really love this,” Penn said thoughtfully.
“Who wouldn’t?”
“But it lights you up.”
“I guess it does. Maybe because he’s always had this car. Through move after move after move from the military, we kept the car. The only time we didn’t have it was when we were stationed in Germany. And he stressed the whole time about it not being driven enough or getting hurt by my uncle, my mom’s brother.”
“You’re more like him than you think.”
“I keep hearing that. My mom and Mel said the same thing when they convinced me to move to New York.”
“They convinced you?” he asked as I pulled into the parking lot for the grocery store. “I didn’t know that. I thought it was Lewis.”
“Well, Lewis and Jane planted the idea. But it was really my mom and Melanie who were the ones who thought it was the right choice.” I hopped out of the car and walked with him into our favorite grocery store. “They said that I was happiest when I could move around a lot. That Charleston wasn’t my home and I needed to go where my heart took me.”
“And that was New York.”
“It’s something in the water,” I joked.
“Do you feel like your writing is better for it? Are you freer?”
I nodded after a pause. “Yes, and no. I feel like New York is where I should be. My writing is so, so much better there. Like it just pours out of me from all the energy I’m absorbing from the city.” I glanced over at him with a laugh. “Don’t tell my mom I said that.”
“Noted.”
“But also…no, because I’m not really any freer. There are just new restrictions. And with Lewis stalking me and Katherine purposely trying to ruin my life, it’s more constricting than ever.”
He sighed. “Hopefully, we’ll hear about the restraining order on Monday, and you can stop stressing. As far as Katherine is concerned, I think she has her hands full with Percy. Let’s hope she stays out of it.”
I stopped then at the entrance to the grocery store. “Is that what you really think?”
“What do you mean?”
“That I should just hope Katherine leaves me alone? After what she’s done to me? She’s the queen of staying two steps ahead. I don’t think I want to hope that she’s too distracted to realize that I’m becoming an insider in her circle.”
“No, I don’t. I want her to leave you alone. But we don’t even know what she could try to do to you.”
“Then maybe we should figure it out,” I said, walking with him again. “Because I don’t want a repeat of her wedding.”
“All right,” he said calmly. “I’ll give it some thought.” Then he frowned. “I’m not sure this should be a lesson.”
“What?” I asked in confusion.
“How to think like Katherine Van Pelt.”
“I don’t want it to be a lesson. But if you think I need it to survive her, then teach me your ways, oh wise one.”
He cracked a smile as we made our way to the bakery. I handed the order form to the baker, and he moved into the back room to collect the cake. I impatiently tapped my foot. I hated to admit it, but Penn’s words made me anxious. Me joining the inner circle of the Upper East Side had negative consequences for Katherine. And I had to stay one or two steps ahead of her if I didn’t want it to backfire on me.
“Oh my god, Natalie, is that you?” an alarmingly fake-tanned woman with a coifed Southern hairdo said. She beamed at me as if I should recognize her. “It is you. Wow! It’s been years. You remember me from high school? Mary Beth Wilson. Well, Buchanan then.” She held up her left hand and showed off the diamond ring. “Five years is right around the corner.”
“Wow, Mary Beth,” I said softly.
I had forgotten all about her. She’d been one of those cheerleader types who didn’t spare me a glance in high school. She didn’t make my life miserable or anything. She simply hadn’t cared about anyone else outside of her circle. And I’d only ever really had Amy.
“Good to see you.”
Mary Beth’s eyes flicked to Penn and back. “And this is your…husband?”
“Boyfriend,” Penn clarified, holding his hand out. “Penn Kensington. Nice to meet you.”
“Well, hello,” Mary Beth said, all flustered as she shook his hand. “You picked a good one, Natalie.”
“Uh, thank you.”
“What have you been up to these days? Busy-bee-ing? Carleton and I have two kids. A girl and a boy, Marianne and Jesse. It’s exhausting, but I love the mom life.”
“That’s great. I moved to New York,” I told her with a shrug. “No kids. Just been writing books and…stuff.” I didn’t know exactly how to explain what else I did.
“Don’t be modest, Natalie,” Penn said. “You wrote a New York Times bestselling novel and live on the Upper West Side.”
“Wow,” Mary Beth said, her eyes bulging. “Congratulations! I will have to tell Carleton about this. You know I still run the alumni club. Maybe we could post a feature in the alumni paper about your book!”
“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll reach out! I’ll find you on Crew. We can connect.”
“Miss Bishop, your cake,” the man said behind the counter.
I heaved a sigh of relief and grasped the cake out of his hands. “Well, we have to go. Bye, Mary Beth. Great seeing you.”
Then I hustled Penn the hell out of there. I could barely focus as I steered us back to my dad’s car. I passed Penn the cake as I unlocked the car, dropping the keys once before getting it right. Then I sank into the driver’s seat and covered my face.
Penn took his seat. “Well, that was interesting.”
“So fucking embarrassing.”
“Why? To talk about your achievements?”
“I mean, people can know what I do with my life, but, god, it’s so, like, small town. Running into someone I knew in high school. And by knew, I mean, we never spoke more than three words the four years I was there. Now suddenly, I’m with you, and she’s interested in talking to me.”
“What do I have to do with it?”
I snorted. “Everything. She was checking you out.”
“So?”
“I’m sure she was wondering what you were doing with me.”
“And you care…why?”
I rolled my shoulders back and sighed. “I don’t know. It’s just awkward. No one cared who I was in high school. Why would she want to write an article about me?”
“Maybe everyone was so self-absorbed in high school that they didn’t think of anything but themselves. You don’t know her or what her motives are. And you aren’t the person you were then. She should want to write about your accomplishments.”