I've met her a handful of times. Last summer, she'd walked in to Erin's shop, called me an intern, and told me to go to the mall. When I told her who I was, the blood drained from her face the second she connected the name Moreland. She'd had her eye on Rome at the time, but Rome only ever had eyes for Erin, thank God. It had been one of the more satisfying forty seconds of my life.
Now she spots our booth, smile slipping just a little before she puts it back in place. Her gaze sweeps across us all and lands on me with the kind of recognition that comes with a grudge she's clearly been polishing since last summer.
"Girls." She stops at our table, sweet and breezy, like we're all friends. "Love that you're out. Feels like high school, doesn't it? The little shopping bags, the diner. So cute."
Lord almighty. That fake smile must hurt. Poppy's face doesn't move. Erin takes a sip of her coffee.
"How's everything going, Lily?" Cherry tilts her head, voice dripping with condescension. "Settling in okay, honey? Must be such a big change, being away from school and all."The smile grows just a bit. "Not everyone can hack adulthood, but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it one day."
This woman is speaking to me like I'm a child at a family gathering. Like she needs to crouch down to make eye contact. And she knew to get me where it hurts the most these days.
I match her fake smile and raise it, turning my face up at her with my most innocent eyes. "Aww, Cheryl, I'm settling in great, thanks. How are you? How's..." I pause, pretending to search for the word. "Everything? At your age?"
Erin and Poppy don't even try to be subtle with their matched snorts. Cherry's smile falters, but she recovers quickly, I'll give her that.
"I'm wonderful. Just been so busy with the spring fundraiser. You know how it is when you're involved in the community." She gives a little laugh. "Well. You'll get there eventually."
"God, I just love small-town silver linings." I lean back in the booth, letting the words land exactly where I want them. "Harbor Hill is so lucky you can't get a man and have time enough to pour all that energy into the community. Really. Where would they be without you?"
That polished smile doesn't waver, but something behind her eyes recalculates. She's deciding whether I'm worth the effort. Whether whatever game she's playing is worth the risk of another round with a girl who could do so much worse.
And I would happily do it. This woman has tormented my girls all their lives, especially sweet Erin.
"Well." She straightens up, all warmth on the surface andvenom underneath. "Enjoy your fries, ladies. Mind those calories now."
"Bless your heart. That means so much coming from someone with your experience."
She turns on her heel and walks out. The door slams behind her.
"Girl." Poppy raises her coffee mug like a toast. "That was surgical."
"I hate her so much," I mutter.
"You're just so good." Erin is grinning like a proud mama.
I shrug, but the adrenaline is still buzzing under my skin. I didn't go looking for fights, never had. But Rome didn't raise me to back down from one either.
I'd known women like Cherry since middle school. The kind who smiled while they cut you and expected you to thank them for the attention. I'd wanted real girlfriends my whole life. The kind who showed up and stayed and didn't keep score.
Growing up with absent parents and a rotating cast of international schools meant a lot of surface friendships and very few real ones. The mean girls, though? Those were universal. Every school had them. Every country, every language, same girl in a different outfit.
Cherry was just the Harbor Hill version, polished where others had been blunt, but the same underneath.
"She's going to be a problem, though." Poppy's voice is more serious now. "She's connected, knows everyone. Runs the spring fundraiser, sits on two committees. She's woven into this town."
"I'm not worried about Cherry."
"You should at least know," Erin tells me, sharing anapprehensive look with Poppy. "There's a rumor. From last year. Someone saw her leaving Cal's house early one morning. Like, dawn. Apparently half dressed."
Callahan could sleep with whoever he wanted. He was a grown man, of course he slept with people. And I was not his girlfriend. We were nothing, and that nothing hurt more each day he spent avoiding me.
But Cherry? That condescending, perfectly curled, committee-running woman who had just spoken to me like I was a child she was tolerating?
The thought of her in his house knocks the air out of me. I can't bear it. The house I walk to almost every day. The porch I'd started thinking of as mine. The living room floor where I sat with Will. The kitchen where I did the dishes while Callahan stood behind me close enough that I could feel him not touching me. The hallway that smelled like wood and soap and him.
Maybe she had made Will laugh the way I made him laugh. Maybe Callahan had driven her home in that stupid car of his and waited until her light came on. Worse, maybe he'd stayed the night, let her sleep in his arms.
I pick up my mug and take a very long sip and tell myself the burning in my throat is the coffee.
