10
“So,you’re telling me that Declan stole an old man’s entire life savings to start his business?” Kate asks.
It’s Saturday morning and we’re all gathered at my place for a painting party. My friends agreed they’d help paint my living room walls a nice, light, coral color. The shade matches the sea fans that wash up on the beach and the light pinkish orange interior of the conch shells that you can find in the rocky coves after a storm.
There are paint trays full of paint, rollers and brushes, and paint cloths covering the furniture and the floor.
Everyone is here – Kate, Arya, and Renee. We’re all wearing the scrubbiest clothes we own. Cut-off shorts and old T-shirts, pajama pants and oversized tank tops, or in Renee’s case, a business suit that she claims is three seasons out of style and can’t even be worn to her home office.
“Scuttlebutt. You can’t judge someone guilty based on the word of another party,” Renee says. She slaps her wet paintbrush against the wall and drags it over the old light yellow color.
“Scuttlebutt? Is that a legal term?” I ask.
Arya grins. She’s the sloppiest painter I’ve ever seen, paint’s splattered in her hair, on her face and over her clothes.
She shakes her head and says, “Renee’s right. Percy respects Declan a lot. He wouldn’t be friends with someone that did terrible things like that. He really wouldn’t.”
I hold back from slapping my head. “Okay, yes. We all know that Percy is a really, really nice guy.”
Arya blushes and holds back a smile. She’s sunk.
“What did I tell you? Arya and Percy are a match made in heaven. And it’s all due to me,” Kate says.
“Yes, yes,” I say. “But back to the point, maybe Percy doesn’t know about Declan’s past. I don’t think it’s common knowledge. It’s not as if Michael goes around sharing the news with everyone.”
“But…” Arya says. She frowns. The paint roller she’s holding drips a glob of paint onto her pajama pants.
I’m so glad we put down sheets and paint cloths on all the floors and furniture.
“Michael could’ve lied,” Renee says. “People lie all the time. Even under oath.” She scowls at the last bit.
“But why would he lie?” I ask. “There’s no reason to. Michael’s father lost his entire savings, then Michael lost his father, and then he lost the woman he loves. Why would he lie about that?”
Renee shrugs. “Let me meet him, I’ll tell you whether he’s a liar.”
“Wow,” Kate says. “Can I bring you on all my first dates?”
Renee flings a bit of paint at Kate, “No. I’m busy conquering the legal world. Besides, you like dating liars. They add spice to your life.”
Kate wipes the spray of paint from her cheek. “I don’t want any more spice. I want a stiff, uptight billionaire so I can go home. Is that too much to ask?”
With her put-upon air and her woe-is-me wail Kate sounds like a member of a Greek chorus from one of the ancient comic tragedies.
I can’t help it, I snort. It’s so ridiculous.
I hold my thumb and finger out and pinch them together, “Maybe a little. Like a millimeter too much.”
I look at the space between my finger and thumb and adjust the width between them to a millimeter.
Arya stifles a giggle.
“It’s not!” Kate says. She puts her hands on her hips and sends a mock glare my way. “I’m willing to put up with toenail clippings in my pasta.”
Renee makes a gagging noise.
Kate glares at her. “And I’m willing to put up with an immoral, pension-stealing, uptight bore. He can nab grannies’ purses and babies’ rattles for all I care. I’ll marry him, go home, be forgiven and then divorce him after a full year of ‘irreconcilable differences.’ I’ll have a hefty divorce settlement, and I’ll give Michael his father’s savings back if you like. And every single one of us will have a happily ever after.”
Except Declan.
Arya has a look of horror on her face. “Kate, that’s…cold.”
Renee shrugs, “Make sure you have a superb lawyer. Before the wedding. Get a consult. Have them on retainer.”
“Good advice,” Kate says.
“Gross,” Arya says.
Kate rolls her eyes. “I don’t have your lucky stars. You and Percy are a match made in heaven. It was obvious the second you met you were meant to be.”
Arya blushes again. I wonder what happened at the gala, or after the gala.
“But just because I don’t love Declan, and just because he may be a skeevy immoral bore, doesn’t mean that I can’t make him happy for a year of marriage. You’ll see. It’ll all work out for the best. He needs a first wife. Every tycoon needs a first wife so he can move on to his second, then his third, maybe a fourth.” She shrugs like the progression of Declan’s wives doesn’t matter.
“Just to be clear, Declan stealing money and ruining relationships doesn’t matter to you?” I ask.
Kate looks at me like I’m a simpleton. “Clearly not.”
Arya still looks horrified. “But what if he hasn’t stolen anything, and he’s actually a good person? Then you’re just tricking him into marriage and leaving him broken-hearted. I could never do something like that.”
“Sure you could,” Kate says. “You just haven’t been desperate enough yet. Besides, women have been marrying men for money for millennia. If it’s not broke don’t fix it.”
“I liked the old Kate better,” mutters Arya. “At least when she dated the professional jet-skier, or that stand-up comedian, or the tennis instructor, she thought she was in love.”
Kate sniffs. “I’ve grown up.”
“More like regressed,” Arya says.
“You’re all forgetting something,” Renee interrupts.
“What’s that?”
Renee shakes her head. “You have to get the uptight bore to fall in love. That’s the only reason a man would lose his head enough to marry these days. He has to be crazy in love. Trust me, I love my work too much, I’ll never get married. From what I hear, Declan Fox feels the same.”
I think back to our night on the island. I don’t think Renee’s right. In fact, I think Declan is a romantic underneath his stiff exterior. Unfortunately, he’s also a thief and a relationship ruiner.
“Crazy in love is not a problem. Have you seen this?” Kate asks. She gestures to her face and her body.
Renee snorts.
But Arya, science-loving, calm, sweet Arya scowls, marches over to Kate and says, “Stop being a mercenary hag. Boobies mate for life, did you know that? And you can’t even contemplate a year. You’re being disgusting.” Then she slaps her paint roller against Kate’s chest.
Arya’s roller hits Kate’s breasts with a wet thwack. Kate gasps as Arya rolls coral paint all over her. Then Kate steps back and pulls her paint-soaked T-shirt away from her skin. She looks at Arya in shock.
“Did you just paint my breasts and call me a booby?”
Arya glares at her. “No. I called you a hag. You’re worse than a booby. Your morals are lower than a booby’s. You don’t even compare. I’d never insult a booby by putting you on the same level.”
Renee starts to laugh. “A moral booby.”
Oh boy. This is not the time for Renee to start making booby jokes.
Kate and Arya both swing toward her.
“Stay out of it,” they say at the same time.