Then I take my tea on the saucer to the living room and sip as I watch the ocean. It is peaceful doing this. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so relaxed.
But my peace doesn’t last for long. There’s a knock at my door. I have no idea who it can be. Probably my neighbor, Pete. He’s been interested in me, and though he is quite handsome, I can’t afford to get mixed up with him. I’m leaving Miami and all it entails behind, and I refuse to fall for another Florida man.
Placing my saucer and teacup down on the white porcelain counter, I make my way to the door in brand-new red stilettos and open it.
I’m ready to greet Pete, tell him that it was nice knowing him . . . but this isn’t Pete.
In fact, it’s no man at all.
“Hi, Georgia,” Faith says. A wide smile is on her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes are intense, her lashes clumpy from too much mascara. She’s dressed well, but then, so am I.
When you are well off, it’s better to play the part. You receive more double takes and get seated faster at restaurants when you look rich. I can see now why Lola was always so eager to dress up to go out on one of her lunch or dinner dates.
“Faith,” I say, and there is curiosity burning in my voice. “Hi—what are you doing here? How do you know where I live?”
“Lola’s lawyer told me.” Her smile slowly fades, but her eyes remain the same. Intense. Dark.
“Lola’s lawyer?”
“Yes. May I come in?”
“I was actually just about to leave. I have a flight to catch and have to be gone within the hour if I want to beat traffic.”
“This won’t take but a minute.” I grit my teeth as she saunters past me and into the condo. “Beautiful place. How much does it cost you?” I can’t help sensing an underlying accusation in her tone.
I close the door, realizing this is not a sweet meet and greet.
“I know everything, Georgia. You might want to cancel that flight.”
Oh. I see.
The script has flipped.
You, Faith. You are here for deeper reasons.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“I wanted to wait until Ivy’s case blew over before I came to see you.”
I remain standing by the door as you look around my apartment. It’s fully decorated. I told my landlord he could keep it all and charge more for the next tenant if he wants to. I wasn’t going to need any of it where I was going.
“Okay . . .”
“Do you remember when you asked Lola to rewrite your contract, and how she guaranteed you ten million after you fulfilled a twenty-year term with her?”
My heart beats faster. “How the hell do you know about that?”
“She told me, Georgia. She met me for brunch the day after you asked and told me everything, and I recall her specifically mentioning that you blackmailed her and that she was making some arrangements. Then, the week before she passed away, she told me something felt off with you, and with Ivy, and mentioned that if anything happened to her, I should look to you for answers. She didn’t go into details about anything, but she made it very clear that she didn’t trust you.”
I clench one of my fists. I want to punch you. Strangle you.
“So . . . I went to Lola’s lawyer, asked him for a favor, and he showed me the new contract Lola had come up with for you.” You slide your purse down to your forearm and open it, pulling out a folded packet of paper. Unfolding it carefully, you clear your throat and say, “I have it highlighted here. ‘In the unlikely event that something should happen to the employer (i.e.: loss of memory, diagnosis of incurable disease, or death), the household manager will receive the agreed amount of ten million dollars at once and the contract and all responsibilities of the employee shall be null and void.’” You lower the paper and give me a smug smile. “So, tell me, household manager . . . were you involved in the killing of Lola and Corey too? I mean, I know Ivy was in on it . . . but you helped her, right?”
No. Nah-uh. There is no way I am letting another ignorant rich bitch ruin my damn life. I have had enough of Lola and her demons. Her lies. She won’t haunt me like this and you will not take advantage of me. I deserved this money and she knew it.
“She told you about my contract?” I breathed. “And who else?”
“Just me. Lola trusted me more than any of her friends.” You seem so sure about that, but from what I remember, Lola liked Arabel the most.