Hello, Sunshine

Even Danny, who now was looking up at me, didn’t seem fazed. I didn’t dare smile at him, though. I shrugged as if to say, I have no idea. I shrugged because it was the only thing I could do that wouldn’t give away my guilt.

Ryan gently wrapped his arm around Meredith’s shoulders. And luckily, she was looking back at him with love in her eyes, totally convinced.

“When we throw a party, we really throw a party!” he said, giving me a wink.

Then he pointed toward the waiters, motioning for them to start dinner service.

“I’m going to step outside with Sunny and Violet to deal with this silliness, if everyone wants to start on their cacio e pepe. And please save me some!”

Except then everyone’s phones beeped again.

A new tweet.

What I was doing while Meredith Landy was cooking. #part2 #herhusband

This photograph hadn’t been taken at the studio. It was taken in a hotel room in Aspen—a naked photograph. I was just out of the shower, looking at myself in the mirror, and if you looked closely you could see a man (visible in the mirror’s reflection) taking the photograph from the doorway.

Ryan.

The room went silent. Movie-theater-at-a-good-movie silent, except for the ambient music playing. Which, I swear, got louder.

My face turned bright red. I wouldn’t look at Danny—I didn’t want to look at anyone—until I figured out something to say so they’d stop looking at me like I was a stranger. Only a stranger, after all, would cheat on her husband—on their friend. And only a stranger would be involved in what was shaping up as fraudulent behavior across the board: recipe-stealing, husband-borrowing, infidelity.

Meredith turned toward her husband, her voice hushed. “What’s this, Ryan?”

For a moment, Ryan—yes, Ryan—was speechless. He shook his head, like this was all ridiculous. Then he managed to find his words.

“That isn’t me!” He pointed at the photo. He was pretty hard to make out. He motioned in my direction, urging me to jump in. “Sunny, tell them!”

I felt my throat close up. You would think that with all my experience lying, I would easily lie in this moment.

But the day had taken its toll.

I took a breath. And then, I told the truth.

“I’m just going to need a minute,” I said. “I’m a little too mortified that there is a naked photograph of me circulating online to defend against a ridiculous story as to how it got there.”

I didn’t dare look toward Danny still, but everyone else nodded, understanding—their looks moving from accusation to something closer to sympathy. Maybe the truth sounded different.

Ryan latched onto their belief like a life preserver. “Yes! Out of respect, everyone please delete those posts while Violet and I get to the bottom of this terrible exploitation of someone we all adore.”

Adore. It was the wrong word to use. Very un-Ryan. And I could see that Ryan knew it. He knew it before he even looked over at Meredith. Adore was the one word he shouldn’t have used in that moment when he was hiding the fact that he and I had made a mistake. Or at least that’s what I called it, that night in Aspen.

“You son of a bitch!” Meredith whispered under her breath.

“Meredith . . .” Ryan said. “Please.”

Violet touched Meredith’s arm. “Meredith, come outside with me, okay?” she said.

Meredith, rightfully, pushed Violet away. Then she slammed out of the private room, her knee-highs causing a ruckus on the stairs.

Ryan kept his smile plastered to his face. “Folks, if you’ll excuse me!”

He followed Meredith outside, walking quickly out of the private room and breaking into a run, the stairs giving him away.

I looked toward where Danny had been standing, but he was gone. Then I heard him behind me. Rather, I felt him, his hand touching my shoulder.

“Hi, everyone. I can’t speak to what is happening right now with Meredith and Ryan, probably one martini too many . . . though, just to be clear with you all, there is nothing about that photograph that is a problem except that it ended up online. I took that photograph of Sunny. It was a private moment between us, which someone has posted without permission.”