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“Does that all make sense?” Amy asks hopefully.
I turn my attention back to her. I have no idea what she’s said. “Perfect. Thank you for all your hard work putting everything together.” I glance across the room, horrified to see Rusty chatting up a pretty young clerk. “Um, if you’ll excuse me for a second.” I gesture to my boss. “I’m going to just …”
“Oh, of course!”
He doesn’t look at me, still smiling winningly at the twentysomething brunette, but is aware of my presence because he reaches out to pat my shoulder and offers a lighthearted “Hey, Jimmy Jams.”
I let this one slide and smile at the woman. “Could you excuse us for a second, please?”
Her cheeks warm to a bright pink, and she nods before rushing off. I lean against a stack of shelves.
“Rusty.”
This earns me an innocent blink. “What?”
“You know what.”
“She’s a nice kid,” he says, waving a hand. “A big fan. I was just indulging her.”
Does he do this to drive Melly crazy, or is he genuinely unaware that flirting in front of his wife is always a terrible idea but especially now?
“Well, let’s focus our attention elsewhere.” I lift my chin. “Looks like Melly is having kind of a rough day.”
He gives me an easy shrug and pulls out his phone to check messages. “You get used to it.”
“Rusty.” I wait until he looks up at me again. “This is where you need to get involved. Her feelings are hurt, and she’s having some insecurities. She’s upset. You need to go help calm her down.”
“I doubt I’d be very useful here.”
“But at least appear to be engaged with your wife?” I tilt my head over to where Joe has just walked in and is introducing himself to Amy. “For this week, appearances matter. To anyone else in the room, you come off as totally uninterested in whatever’s going on with her.”
“What do you expect me to do, Jimmy? Pretend like everything is fine and we’re”—he has the nerve to motion between us—“not both here completely against our will?”
Against our will? I take a deep breath. Rusty is here so he can continue to live the sweet life and drive around the lake on his custom Jet Ski. I’m here so I can keep my job and not get evicted.
“Do you want people to figure out that you two are in trouble?” I ask him, growing desperate the longer Melissa is panicking by the window and Rusty appears completely unconcerned. Amy and Joe are still here, but another woman has entered the room and is watching Melissa pace and vent to Carey about bad reviews.
“She should know not to look at those!” Rusty hisses to me. “Reviews always get her back up, and they aren’t even that bad! She knows better.”
“Not helping,” I growl.
With an irritated exhale, he makes his way over to his wife. She looks initially like she’s going to blow up at him, but a glance over his shoulder clues her in that they’ve got an audience, which seems to be the one thing that pulls Melissa Tripp back into the right state of mind. She allows herself to be coaxed into the sturdy comfort of Rusty’s hug.
Carey looks at me. I look at her. It feels like we both finally let out a long, slow breath. But the calm is shattered by the sound none of us wanted to hear today.
“Hello to my two favorites!” Stephanie Flores has that husky sexpot voice, and when the former Miss America sashays into the room, completely oblivious, a chill swallows us all. Rusty closes his eyes and lets out a groan that seems to lament the inconvenience rather than the depth of his regret. Is it really possible that Rusty didn’t bother to give Stephanie the heads-up that Melissa knows about their affair?
She walks over, embraces a board-stiff Melissa first, and then kisses Rusty on both cheeks. Carey and I stare at the three of them like we’re watching a grenade with the pin pulled free. The room is filling with people with Instagram and Twitter locked and loaded on their phones, and who’d love to drop that they’re hanging out backstage with the Tripps!
To her credit and my unending shock, Melissa manages to slap on a gracious smile and let out a thrilled “Stephanie! Oh, my goodness, what are you doing here, silly? What a surprise!”
Carey sidles up next to me, tucking her hands beneath her crossed arms. “Holy shit. This is bonkers.”
“It’s like watching a car sail off a cliff,” I agree.
“I was really hoping the shit wouldn’t hit the fan at the second tour stop,” Carey hisses, glancing to where Melissa and Stephanie chat like they’re old friends catching up after months, instead of secret enemies who saw each other less than a week ago. “What is she doing here anyway?”
