The Perfect Ruin

“Well, if Keke’s okay with it and you really want this, I’ll be happy to do it.” I wanted to laugh. Fuck Keke.

“Great! And as you probably know, all proceeds for every shirt sold goes to the charity. We also want to present them in a slideshow for our gala this fall, to raise a few bucks for them, so you would be the face for that too. I hope that’s okay.”

“Gotta admit, that makes me nervous.” I giggled. “But featuring the shirts during your gala seems like a good idea. I’m down.”

“Yay! So, the only thing is, I’ll need you to come next weekend for the shoot. I know it’s short notice, but you’d be surprised how hard it is to find a model who will do this voluntarily. Many of them see my name involved and see dollar signs, and it’s so sad. But you won’t have to worry about makeup or anything—I’ll have it all covered, and I’ll even have a lunch planned for you afterward.”

“I should be able to do next weekend. I’ll just see if I can switch my shift.” There was no way in hell I was missing this photo shoot.

Full-blown relief struck me then. I’d thought surely she was going to confess to her crimes when she said she needed to be honest and flat-out tell me she knew who I was, but this was much better, honestly. She didn’t know who I was. I could keep up with my plan, play my part.

Lola sighed and laughed. “Oh, this is wonderful. I was a little nervous to ask. You just joined the Ladies with Passion, and not only that but you seem so reserved—like this wouldn’t be your kind of thing.”

“Well, I’ve never modeled before and I am kind of camera shy, but this is for the charity, so I really don’t mind.” I gave her a wide smile, putting down the folder and picking up my raspberry mimosa.

“So good to hear. Well, just so you know, the photo shoot always happens here, on our deck. I hire a photographer who does a wonderful job of capturing the images I need. I invited you today so you could get a feel of my place, get acquainted with the atmosphere here,” she stated, gesturing to the area around us.

Well, that wasn’t an issue. I felt right at home walking into her mansion. I’d dreamed of the day I’d be able to walk in and breathe it all in. Get a taste of what she experienced, a feel for how she lived her life, even if it was all for just a moment. I put on a grateful smile. “This place is lovely. There’s no reason not to love it.”

“Corey will be so glad I found someone. Now I can stop talking his head off about searching for a model every night over dinner.”

I sat up a little higher in my chair at the mention of Corey. “Well, you totally could have modeled the shirts yourself. You’re gorgeous, Lola.”

She laughed. “Oh girl, you sound just like my husband. He constantly says that to me. I like to keep things fresh, though. Younger faces work better for LWP, considering most of the moms are women who are under thirty.”

“That makes sense.” I sipped my drink. “And Corey is your husband, right?”

“Yep, he is,” she answered, but not as excitedly as she had about the charity topic.

“Does he help out a lot with the charity?” I asked, still trying to keep it light.

“He does what he can. He’s always busy, so I don’t expect him to do much for it, but as far as hiring the right catering teams and getting donations from the men who feel they’re too good to donate to women’s charities, he’s good for that.” She chuckled.

I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Oh, that’s cool.” I paused for a moment. “You know, I follow you on Instagram,” I said, smiling coyly. “That’s how I know Corey is your husband . . . .”

“You do?” Lola laughed. “That’s so great! I love Instagram! I’ll have to find you on there and give you a follow. It’s my favorite app.”

Yeah, it was her favorite because she was a conceited bitch.

“I always see pictures of you with him. You guys always look so happy together.”

“Well, we try to be, you know? After everything we’ve been through, we try to live with smiles on our faces.” Her whole statement seemed practiced, like she’d said it many times before.

“You mean with the miscarriage?” I asked, treading carefully. I kept my voice gentle, my face compassionate. She’d brought up the miscarriage before, and because I’d told my sob story, I hoped she wouldn’t take too much offense at my question.

Lola nodded, then sipped her drink. She was quiet for a moment, looking at the ocean, scratching a manicured nail over her thumb cuticle. “Things change after having one, but it made our marriage stronger. Impenetrable.”