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“I see.” Neal sipped his beer. “And your best friend is from Martha’s Vineyard, too?”
“Yes,” Brea said.
“Why is she so much more advanced in her career?”
“She moved out here before me,” Brea explained, then paused for a moment before adding, “And I was trying to make it as an artist for a while, which sounds so embarrassing. I mean, who would ever want to buy my art?”
“Are you kidding? Some of the stuff these art dealers sell is atrocious,” Neal said.
Brea’s smile widened. “Right? Almost every new piece that Oriana shows me makes me shake my head. I can’t believe anyone would ever buy it, let alone make it in the first place. And then, she tells me the price, and it’s in the one, two, three-million-dollar range!”
Neal’s eyes flickered. “Okay, that is ridiculous! People place very strange prices on material items. It’s obnoxious.”
“I keep thinking that.”
“So, your best friend’s name is Oriana?”
Brea nodded. “Oriana Coleman. She decided to go with her maiden name, professionally.”
“I think I’ve heard of the Colemans before. There are Colemans on Nantucket, right?” Neal said.
“The Colemans that live on Nantucket are different. Well, sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“It’s a long story,” Brea said, stirring in embarrassment. Chuck, Oriana’s father, had nothing to do with Brea— and she didn’t want to gossip. Still, it did fascinate her that Chuck had had this whole other life in Nantucket, which he’d abandoned for Oriana’s mother, Mia. It made her head spin, thinking people could be so cruel to those they loved.
“So, the plan is that you’ll have your own clients after you’re her assistant for a while?” Neal asked, rebounding the conversation.
“That’s the plan right now,” Brea said. “We want to move back to Martha’s Vineyard to work together, outside of the business here in New York, which means no more guest lists. No more clubs.”
“You seem pretty happy about that,” Neal said with a laugh.
“More than you know.”
Neal dropped his head back. “You’ve probably seen some incredible things in this industry. You’ll only get better at the business side of things as you go along.” He raised his drink to salute her. “I’m pulling for you, Brea. It seems to me that you’re damn good at your job, if only because you don’t have all this New York City pretentiousness. That will take you far.”
Brea glowed at his compliments, allowing herself to fall away from the devastation of her life and into this imaginary one that she and Neal created at this bar. It had been a long time since she’d felt more important than Oriana. But right now, she would milk it for all it was worth.
ChapterFourteen
Present Day
Reaching Ko Tao, Brea’s island in Thailand, was much more complicated than Oriana had initially planned. Excited, her thoughts going in a million different directions, she booked a flight from Boston to Bangkok, explaining to Reese that she needed to meet a client in that exotic city so far from home. But immediately after she’d booked the flights, she realized Bangkok was quite far from Ko Tao and that she’d need to take an additional flight, plus a boat, to reach the island. With the end of September just around the corner, her stomach performed somersaults. She didn’t have much time before the blackmailer revealed everything.
Because he was a wonderful, kind, and loyal husband, Reese dropped Oriana off at the airport the following morning, kissed her goodbye, and told her to eat plenty of mango for him. Oriana swayed in his arms, woozy, as she’d been too nervous to eat.
“This is why you’re getting that award,” Reese said. “You go above and beyond for art. It’s incredible to watch.”
The first flight took Oriana from Boston to Istanbul— a horrific and very long period during which she was unable to sleep or concentrate on a film for longer than a few minutes. Although she’d purchased first class, flying was still not as comfortable as her bed at home— and she dreaded what awaited her in Ko Tao.
One thought had begun to rise to the surface: that maybe Brea was the blackmailer, and she’d sent those letters to force Oriana to fund her life in Thailand. Brea had disappeared herself many, many years ago. She probably needed money at this point.
If that was true, was it possible Brea knew Oriana was coming to see her? Maybe Rita had walked directly into Brea’s trap.
Then again, Brea had never been a villainous mastermind. She’d always been an artistic, soft, and very kind soul. She’d had to leave the United States; there had been no other option for her. But Oriana had always imagined that after that, she’d found somewhere beautiful to live, perhaps fallen in love with someone, and had a few babies. Rita hadn’t had any information about that. Maybe it was partially true?
Then again, if Brea had had children, that meant she probably needed money all the more.
