Page 38 of Don't Trust Her

“Yes,” I say. “I’m back.”

Silence.

My mind races for something to say, but I’m tongue-tied. Every question could be used against me, against my daughter. Coming here was definitely a bad idea.

Trixie glances at my hands. “Here again for a manicure?”

I hold up my plain nails.

“I told you removing it is part of the service. If you come back, I can take it off for you.”

“Oh, right. Well, um, it was chipping so I didn’t want to wait.”

“Already? My work should last longer than that.”

I shrug. “Must be because I don’t wear gloves when I wash dishes.”

That probably sounds really stupid. And I’m not getting any closer to learning anything about the woman who is messing with my life.

“You should change that immediately if you want a mani to last.”

“Apparently. I’m pretty new at all of this.” At least that isn’t a lie. I could count on one hand how many times I’ve had a professional manicure. It’s never been a priority when I can paint my own nails at home if I feel like it. Since having kids, that’s been a rarity. Nadia never had an interest in having pretty nails, so it wasn’t something we bonded over like some moms and daughters. But ever since Bryant started seeing Trixie, Nadia has had colored nails.

I ignore a stab of jealousy.

“Follow me.” Trixie marches toward a row of chairs.

My heart thunders in my chest. What have I just gotten myself into? Now I’m not only going to be talking to my ex-husband’s girlfriend, but she’s going to be touching my hands. How long does this take? I can’t think of anything to say as it is. If this goes on for a full half hour, I’m doomed. This is going to be disastrous.

Trixie bustles around, gathering a tray of things and bringing it over. “Same color?”

I hesitate. The last thing I need is the same nail polish as my doppelgänger. That will just give people one more reason to think we’re the same person and that I’m losing my mind. “Something bolder this time.”

She gives me a surprised but approving look. “I didn’t see that coming. Same shade, but bolder?”

“Yes,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster. I have no idea what I’m agreeing to, or how long the color is going to stay on my hands.

Trixie returns with a little bottle, and the color could only be described as neon watermelon. “Too much?”

I can’t tell if the question is a challenge. If so, I accept.

“It’s perfect.” I give her my best smile. “I love that shade of pink. And the brightness will help me hang on to the last bit of summer.”

“My thoughts exactly.” She sits and pulls items out from the little tray.

Did we just agree on something? Not that I’m actually sure of the color. If nothing else, it will stand out from whatever my imposter has on.

Trixie moves quickly, making me think she could do a manicure in her sleep. She takes my right hand then rubs something cold and wet on my nails. “How’s Nadia doing? Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Oh, you know. Busy with school. I rarely see her myself.”

She pulls out clippers and shapes my nails. “Is she still seeing that boy? What was his name, Luke?”

My daughter has a boyfriend? And she told Trixie about him?

“No, it was Liam.” Trixie smiles, and files one of my nails. “They sound so cute together.”

I just smile. What can I say? Absolutely nothing. This woman apparently knows more about my daughter than I do, and she only sees her a few days a month. Unless she’s making it all up to get under my skin. That’s a definite possibility.

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