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“I’m so glad you came in.” She whispers, leaning over. “You can only share the same gossip with the same people so many times.”
I try to keep my hand still as I lean forward.
“Spill it!”
She laughs.
“Okay, well. You see that lady over there with the short curly hair?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s Celestine Duncan. She has all the money in her relationship—a rare enough thing. She’s fucking her boy toy on the side. She paid for him to have his own suite and her husband is totally clueless.”
I let out a low whistle. “That’s nasty. Why doesn’t she get a divorce?”
“No pre nup. She thought they’d be together forevers. Silly woman.”
“Shit. She looks pretty happy, anyway.”
“Yeah. She’s been hurling cocktail waitresses and bikini models at her hubby hoping to get him cheating. It might have worked. He was walking arm in arm with a blonde honey this morning.”
“Love always wins.” I can’t help giggling and Natalie grips my hand tight and frowns at my nails.
“There’s a bit of talk about you, too.” Natalie’s eyes narrow a little, looking like a true conspirator. “All the gold diggers want to know how you got in with Ashley—Robin—Whoever! They are desperately trying to smudge you, but not having your real name, even the gossip goes flat.”
Now I really do laugh. I laugh so hard I snort, and Natalie has to let go of my hand.
“I didn’t get anything.” I shake my head, trying to hold back the pain these words carry. “I didn’t win her. Its not what they think it is.”
Natalie shrugs. “That doesn’t matter. They are making their own assumptions, you know? Girls like that need to hate. If they fail, they can’t put it on themselves. Its easier to put it on you.”
I think for a moment as the soothing, back and forth motions of the file hum through my hand. I never considered being the target of someone’s hatred. It makes me feel a bit ill. I hope I don’t have to deal with any confrontations.
“Oh, here comes Lauren Grant!” Natalie whispers furiously, gripping my hand a bit too tight. “She’s married and she has not one, but two boy toys.”
“How does she manage it?” I can’t help gasping in shock.
Natalie giggles. “They all know each other. It can’t go public because she’s in charge of a church charity. She’d be ruined. But late last night she was dancing with all three guys in the piano room and they all went back to her suite. It’s really kind of cute. I love the idea that love doesn’t fit into society’s boxes. You know?”
“I do know.” I’m in a place of such confusion now I don’t know what to say.
“I’ve got to tell you about De Haverland.” She flips the file expertly in her hand and starts working on the other side of my nail without missing a beat. “He’s so pissed that he can’t rattle Ashley’s cage. Like, he’s trying so hard but all he gets out of it is embarrassment.”
I try to hold in my giggles and all I can manage is a strangled type sound. Natalie raises her eyebrows.
“Are you having a seizure?” She asks, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah. I kind of am. The towel boy incident?”
Natalie lets out a yelp of laughter she has to quickly stifle. A few customers and other beauticians give us strange looks, so we look back with blank, solemn expressions. Eye rolls and lifted eyebrows appraise us coolly.
Natalie turns back to my nails and the conversation without missing a beat.
“Anyway, now we’ve kind of got this pool going, betting on who’s going to lose their shit and when. Its incredible, but a lot of these couples seem to have their fights in patterns.” She points at a man and woman passing the salon.
“Almost to the letter, these guys fight every Tuesday night.”
I giggle at her, wiggling my fingers so she makes a face at me.
