So, this was some sort of inside joke? Something they’d spoken about? And to think I’d actually liked these bitches at first. Well, “like” was a strong word. I just figured they were so wrapped up in their own rich lives that they didn’t give a damn about the mediocre girl who worked at Banana Republic.
I glanced at Lola, who was now frowning at Faith. “Faith, what are you trying to imply?” Lola demanded.
“Nothing! Nothing!” Faith chuckled, then sipped her wine. “I just can’t help thinking that . . . well, you’ve just met Ivy, Lola, and she already has her hands in so much of your stuff. You two sunbathe together, shop together, and now she’s working with you?”
“And your point is?” Lola’s frown deepened.
“I just think you need to slow down with the poor girl. To me, it seems like you’re trying to replace Keke with Ivy. One friend’s absence has opened up a chair, and Ivy has the seat now.”
Okay. Faith was a bitch, plain and simple. And maybe she was jealous too. She wished she was in my position, tanning and reading and sipping crisp white wine with Lola Maxwell. The room went still, an awkward crackle of tension in the air.
Footsteps sounded on the marble floors, and Lola turned as Georgia appeared at the mouth of the kitchen. “Dinner is ready when you are, Mrs. Maxwell.”
“Good.” Lola put her attention to Faith again while saying, “Arabel, Ivy, why don’t you two go ahead and get seated. I need a word with Faith.”
I nodded and trailed behind Arabel, following Georgia to the dining room. Over my shoulder, I watched Lola murmur something to Corey, and then she gave him a pat on the chest. He nodded and sighed, following right after us.
When I sat, I couldn’t see Lola or Faith in the kitchen anymore, but I hoped Lola was sticking up for me.
“You know how Faith gets when she starts drinking,” Arabel said as Corey took his seat. “She loses that filter of hers.”
“I see,” Corey said, but he wasn’t amused.
Arabel looked my way. “To be honest, I like you much more than Keke. I think you’re good for Lola.”
“That I can agree with—you being good for Lola, that is,” Corey said. “I haven’t seen her so relaxed in so long. You’re a good listener, from what she’s told me.”
I nodded. “Well, I try to be. It seems like she needs an ear here and there.”
“She has me and Faith to talk to too,” Arabel countered.
Yeah, once a week, and only so they could come over, eat all Lola’s food, drink all her wine, and complain about their older husbands while Lola fidgeted and listened.
“She does. She talks about you and Faith a lot with me. She loves you two.”
Arabel put on a cocky grin after my statement. That’s all these women wanted, Marriott. They wanted their egos stroked and their pride in good standing. Never demean them. Never make them feel replaceable or irrelevant. How did I know? Because I’d studied Lola for over a year to figure it out.
Speaking of, Lola sauntered into the dining room with Faith trailing behind her. “Sorry about that,” she said as she pulled back the chair beside Corey and sat down. Faith took the seat next to Arabel, not once looking my way.
“Before we dig into our delicious meal, I’d like us to pray,” Lola announced. “And Faith will do us the honors.” She gave Faith a stern look in the eye.
Faith pursed her lips a moment and then said, “Let’s bow our heads.” Her prayer was straight to the point. Nothing fancy.
“Amen,” everyone said in unison when she was done.
“Thank you for that, Faith,” said dear Lola, and I caught the sarcasm in her voice. She wasn’t happy with Faith at the moment.
Georgia entered the room with two men in white button-downs and black vests following her. Each man had white plates occupying both hands that they placed on the table in front of us.
“This is our appetizer,” Georgia murmured, setting a plate in front of Lola. “It’s a crab-stuffed portobello mushroom and of course for you, Lola, a crabless stuffed portobello mushroom to cater to your vegan needs. Enjoy.”
“Thanks, G.” Lola looked around the table. “Let’s dig in, shall we?”
Everyone dug right in as the men with Georgia filled our wineglasses. The mushroom was good, but the entrée they brought out minutes later was divine. A duck roasted in butter and garlic and served with a cranberry-orange sauce. Along with it, asparagus and a baked potato. Lola only had the asparagus and potato.
Rich people ate so well, Marriott. I could really get used to that.
“So, there’s a reason I invited you ladies over tonight,” Lola said as everyone was close to finishing their entrées. “I mentioned a while back during one of the volunteer meetings that we were trying really, really hard to get the Green Garden Hall for the Passion Gala this September. It took a lot of work and a lot of swaying, but I am so happy to let you girls know that we got it! It’ll be our first time hosting the gala in New York!”