By the time we got back to the boats and Eric had to go into work, I realized just how much it did matter. I still know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m good enough for him. I still know I could give him the kind of love he’s always deserved and do it so well it would blow his mind every fucking day he spends with me. I still believe I’m worthy of him and the love he gives me, whether or not I’m cultured or have a college education or share the same heritage as him. I know for a fact that if I were to sit Eric down and tell him everything she’s done and everything she said to me today, he would tell her to go to hell. He would cut ties with her and never speak to her again. I know he would stand up for me and support me and think it was completely ridiculous that my being technically married—which will be fixed as soon as possible—wouldn’t have any bearing on his reputation or his business. I can see it so perfectly in my head—his dimpled smile as he shakes his head at me, telling me I can’t get rid of him that easily and that a spare husband sitting in the wings doesn’t change anything.
Sitting in the middle of my bed, I stare down at the phone in my hand, rereading the messages that came in today from Cindy and Belle that I haven’t responded to yet.
Cindy: How did brunch go? Did the elitist snob fall madly in love with your charm? If she didn’t, I will cut her. CALL ME!
Belle: Hey! Guess what? I learned how to make a Salty Chihuahua today. It has tequila in it and it’s delicious and I’m adding it to the menu of the future Naughty Princess Drinking Club. Also, it’s now your new nickname. Because you’re cute and salty and you’re an irritating, yappy ankle biter.
Cindy: Dude. DUDE. We just scored a corporate account. Holy shit. This is huge. They want us to do everything. Christmas parties, employee birthday parties, luncheons, business meetings. It’s a sex-toy company. I wonder if we’ll get free samples . . . CALL ME!
Belle: I just booked a location for my wedding. And before you ask, no, I will not make you be a bridesmaid and wear a horrible taffeta gown with poufy sleeves and a big bow on your ass. No bridesmaids. Just a small, intimate gathering with a taco bar. Mmmmmmm tacos. Vincent is mad at me because I just paid for the entire thing without telling him. Mama’s got the dolla dolla bills just rolling in, yo. It’s lit, fam. My wedding will be on fleek.
Belle: Sorry. We had a teen day at the library this afternoon. Teenagers are weird. And scary. Did you know that according to the National Institute on Drug Abuse, teens often use slang words when talking about drugs so their parents don’t know? Holy shit. My last text to you could have said I like doing cocaine. Delete these messages immediately until I can do more research.
Cindy: We need to discuss who’s going to be doing all the administrative work now that you got on the pole and put Belle and I to shame. I’m thinking we should hire a business manager to take care of all of this shit because . . . math. Let’s get some drinks tomorrow night and discuss. Belle just sent me a text about a Salty Chimpanzee or some shit that we need to try. CALL ME, ASSHOLE!
What’s more important to you? This business of yours, or my son’s happiness and reputation?
Ursula’s words play on a loop in my head as I bite back tears, sending Cindy and Belle quick texts telling them I’ll call them tomorrow and fill them in on everything.
I know Eric’s reputation would survive the scandal of me still being married. It’s not the fucking 1950s anymore. But this business? I can’t let my friends down like that. I can’t tell them I picked a man over them, when we started this thing for the sole reason that we were three single women, all alone with no one to help us, in a man’s world, trying to figure out a way to get our heads above water before we drowned. And we did it. We fucking did it. We beat the odds and started a business that was successful from day one and continues to grow each and every day, without help from anyone else.
How could I possibly take that away from them? The Naughty Princess Club is how we each found ourselves and who we were meant to be. It’s how we all learned how to be strong, independent women who could do whatever we wanted if put our heads together, who helped and supported each other instead of trying to take each other down for our own personal gain.