The Honey - Don't List

“She doesn’t know that Melissa knows,” I remind her. “In Stephanie’s mind, she’s just one friend popping in on two others. Not a—”

“Backstabbing asshole?”

I glance down to see her already smiling up at me. My blood heats at her proximity and the glint in her eyes that I know comes from being exhausted and stressed but translates as fuck-it-all mischievousness. Holy shit. I like her.

“That nicely sums it up.” I turn back to the two women. “So what do we do? Melissa is a mess with or without the backstabbing asshole, and there’s a room full of people out there and a lot more of these events to come.”

“First,” she says, “we have to keep her off the review sites. I’ll set up a blacklist of words to mute on Twitter and compile all of our four- and five-star reviews. If I give her a new list every day, it should be enough to keep her ego going.”

“And second?” I ask.

“Second?” she says, and then exhales as we both watch Rusty walk back over to the snack table, and catch Stephanie eyeing him like there might be time for a quick round of Hide the Hammer. “Second, we keep those two away from each other and just … hope the creek don’t rise.”

Even though I’ve never heard that phrase in my life, I know exactly what she’s saying.

It’s a tall order, but Carey’s intervention and Rusty’s hug appear to have scraped together a little team spirit: Melissa seems determined to keep it together. Walking behind Stephanie, Melissa smiles brightly at everyone she passes. It looks like Rusty is doing his part as well, and has a guiding hand pressed against his wife’s lower back as he walks beside her. Carey and I bring up the rear, and it’s only from this angle that you’d notice Rusty’s only touching his wife with his fingertips, like he’s rationing out how much physical contact he’s going to deliver.

With every step I think, I could just turn around and walk out of here and not come back. I could start over, work as an entry-level engineer somewhere in Omaha, Topeka, Sioux Falls. I’d have to live on instant ramen and roll pennies to pay for gas, but would that be worse than this?

I’m ripped from this internal debate when we stop just at the edge of the bookstore floor. There are streamers and balloons, and posters of the New Life, Old Love cover everywhere. The crowd erupts in a deafening cheer when the Tripps step inside, and then loses it again when they see the bonus appearance of Stephanie Flores, who gives a humble little wave and indicates she’ll be standing in the back, a simple fan just like the rest of them.

“Thank you so much for joining us tonight,” Amy says by way of introduction. “This has been quite a ride for you two, hasn’t it? I hear you’re traveling by bus?”

On cue, Melissa and Rusty share a fond look.

“Yes!” she sings. “A big, beautiful bus.” She’s careful to smile and make eye contact with individual members of the audience, and it’s easy to see why millions of women feel like they know her.

“But even a big bus can feel really small when you’re traveling with an entire team of people,” she continues with a self-deprecating smile. “Let’s just say I’m going to be better about picking up my shoes when I need to.”

“I almost went to the emergency room! They’ll tell you!” Rusty says, pointing to the back of the room where Carey, Joe, and I—their team—stand. We all shrug and play along with this fictional moment. The audience eats it up. They leave their shoes on the floor! They’re just like us!

The next question comes from a twentysomething woman in the back of the room. “Do you remember the first window display you ever did that made someone come in and say, ‘That. I want that’?” she asks.

And without waiting for his wife to reply, Rusty looks to the back of the room again and says, “What was that first window you did, Carey-girl? The dining room one, right?”

Carey stiffens at my side as the entire room swivels in their seats to look at her. Silence swallows the space, because the way he cut Melissa out of this recollection is palpably awkward. When I take in Carey’s horrified expression, I realize that this is definitely more than easy Team Tripp banter: Rusty has just dropped a bomb in the middle of the bookstore.

Vic @aCurlieee_doll • July 8

Ummm did anyone else hear the rumor that Rusty Tripp is banging his costar?

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Jesey @Jeseylovesshoes

@aCurlieee_doll SHUT UPPP I REFUSE

Vic @aCurlieee_doll

@Jeseylovesshoes I just spent an hour on a reddit thread written by someone who was at their event. “They were in a back room and not even speaking—and that was before the side piece showed up. They got it together but there was an ~edge”