The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

“Contrary to all evidence.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m afraid I must insist on you saying the words.”

“Huh?”

“I, Dana Kellerman, do vow to stop spreading vicious gossip and lies about Emery Saunders and Jack Devlin.” I spoke as condescendingly as possible and watched a few of the women nearest me look down, covering their smirks.

I felt a flicker of uneasiness. I wasn’t a bully. It wasn’t in my nature to get off on making someone feel small. Unfortunately, I was on that side of the situation now—it was back down and lose this war against Dana, or proceed and feel guilty later about being a bitch.

I chose the latter.

“Well?”

“I’m not admitting to anything because I haven’t done anything. And I won’t. I won’t say shit about you or Jack. Like I care about you getting knocked up by that useless manwhore.”

My eyes narrowed and I took a step toward her.

“Em?” Jess’s hand rested on my back.

“You’re talking about the father of my child, and I’ll thank you not to insult him.”

“Whatever.” Dana shook her head and waved her hand at us. “Just take yourself and your stupid little posse and get out and don’t come back.”

“Oh.” Cat glowered at her. “Then I guess I’ll need to find a new hair salon.”

“What?” Jennifer yelped from the back. She glared at Dana before yelling at Cat, “Don’t listen to her. She’s just my receptionist.”

“Then you might want to think about getting a new receptionist,” Cat offered. “I know more than a handful of women who don’t come in here, Jen, because they don’t want to deal with Dana. They all go to Essex instead.”

“That’s true,” I added. “I go to Essex.”

Jennifer’s jaw clenched as her eyes narrowed on her receptionist.

Dana looked ready to kill us.

And I took that as our cue to leave.

We did so quietly and with dignity, and I waited until we were out of sight before I asked, “Did we take that too far?”

Cat burst into raucous laughter. “Oh my God, no. It was the best thing ever! You’re my new hero!”

I looked at Jess who grinned at me.

“I felt kind of mean.”

“That’s because you’re a good person.” She squeezed my hand.

“Don’t feel mean,” Cat huffed. “Neither of you have lived here all your life, so let me tell you a little something about Dana Kellerman: that egg thing that happened to you in high school? Take that and times it by a million when it comes to the shit she pulled on girls in high school. She tortured kids. When Cooper told me he was dating her, I tried to warn him. He told me she’d grown up a lot since then.” Cat snorted. “Uh, yeah, no. She’s still pulling that crap.”

“Well, your brother learned that the hard way,” Jess defended him gently.

“Yeah. But my point is”—Cat turned to me—“don’t feel guilty about embarrassing her in there, making her feel small, because she has lived her life getting off on other people’s misery. If she loses her job, great. Maybe she’ll fuck off and go torture another town with her selfish, catty, nasty, downright-mean attitude. They say people have a reason for being the way they are, and I believe that. I do. But some people are just born selfish to the core, and Dana Kellerman is one of them. Don’t feel bad. Feel proud that you stood up for yourself and for Jack.”

A little stunned by Cat’s passionate speech, I exhaled slowly and nodded at her. “Okay. I will.”

“Good. And next time you want to stand up for yourself, please invite me. That was the classiest put down I’ve ever witnessed.”

We shared a warm smile and my unease faded a little in light of my newfound friendship with Cat Lawson.

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