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Cynthia sets the bottle down on the TV console, then whirls around and puts on a plastic smile. “Did you really think you could hide from me, Selina?”
“What? Cynthia, what are you talking about?”
The sweetness in her voice has turned sour. The light in her eyes has darkened. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you, Selina? You’re nothing more than a bug on my windshield, and I will get you out of the way.”
“Cynthia, what is going on here?”
To say that I’m confused would be an understatement, but I’m starting to think there might be something wrong with her. That, in turn, puts the whole diary under a murky light. Doubt creeps in with long and gnarly fingers, working its way up the ladder of my consciousness until a clearer picture finally emerges.
I see her for what she really is. Tall and slender underneath her white mink coat and matching Russian-style hat. Her makeup flawlessly applied and a heavy note of expensive fragrance lingering in the air around her. Nails perfectly painted red and glossy, not one hair out of place. Yet everything is wrong about Cynthia.
I see her, the real her, for the first time. And she is ugly.
“I decided it was time for the two of us to have a real conversation, like grown women should,” she says. “It has come to my attention that Matthew wants you back. I just want you to know that should you consider that possibility, I will make your life miserable. A living hell.”
“Excuse me?”
“Matthew is mine, Selina. He’s always been mine, and no matter how many of you prance around in that master bedroom of his, he will always be mine.”
“Cynthia, are you off your meds or something? I’m at a hotel in Providence, not at the cabin. How did you even find me here?”
“I will find you anywhere,” she hisses, pointing an angry finger at me. “And I will do whatever it takes to keep you away from my man!”
I’m getting a better understanding of the concept of “unhinged” at this point. Cynthia is anything but stable, and I worry that it will only get worse from here. This version of her sends shivers down my spine. I don’t know what her endgame is, but I do know she’s got it out for me. I didn’t expect her to come here, and the fact that she was able to track me down is deeply unsettling and concerning.
“I don’t understand, Cynthia. I have no interest in Lance whatsoever,” I tell her.
She laughs, a dry cackle that further creeps me out. “Who gives a crap about Lance? I’m not talking about Lance. Matthew. He’s the one you need to stay away from.”
“Well, you can have him,” I manage, trying to figure out a way to get her to leave me alone. “I left the cabin, obviously. It’s over.”
“Something tells me you’ll crawl back to him, soon enough. Matthew can be… addictive. And he’s mine, Selina. We were meant to be together. I’m not letting you ruin it for me. It’s bad enough I had Sully and Jason to deal with. I don’t have any energy left to spend on you too.”
“Didn’t you guys break up, like a year ago?”
Her lips curl into a bitter smirk. “I like to think of it as a much-needed break. Matthew knows he’ll never find anyone better than me. With my last name, with my father’s connections, with my, well, let’s just call it pedigree, I’m Matthew’s perfect mate. You, honey… you were just something for him to fill his time with. He’d never marry a salesgirl. You’re a nobody.”
“Well, Cynthia, I don’t think you fully understand the depth of Matthew, Sully, and Jason’s relationship,” I reply, shaking my head. “The deal was the three of them or none of them. You can’t rip Matthew away from his closest friends.”
“I almost succeeded last year. This time, I just need to get you out of the way.”
My hands shoot out in front of me, a defensive gesture my body deemed necessary before Cynthia even takes one step toward me. “You need to rethink your options here. Listen, I got out, okay? We broke up. You should just go back to Aspen and do whatever it is you have to do. I wish you the best of luck.”
“It’s not about luck,” she says. “It’s about removing obstacles from my path, and you’re a huge thorn in my side right now. I could tell from the moment I met you that they thought you were special. I’d hoped the diary would send any woman running away from them. I was surprised things got as far as they did with the four of you—”
“Hold on, you planted that?”
She offers me an evil grin. “I knew I’d have my work cut out long before we split up last Christmas. I knew I’d need a way back in once I was done with my therapy and rehab dance.”
“Rehab,” I mumble. “What happened last Christmas, Cynthia?”
She scoffs and crosses her arms. “I tried to rush things, and the situation got out of control. It doesn’t really matter, not to you, anyway. What does matter is that you’ve had your little fun, you’ve had your fill, and now you need to step out of the picture. I’m done waiting.”
“Again, I ask, why do you feel like I’m a threat in any way? I’m here, they’re not. Just leave me alone.”
“I’m not buying that. Surely, you’re aware of how much money Matthew makes. You’re aware of his reputation and his prestige. A poor little thing like you must’ve caught his scent. And judging by your current living conditions, I’m inclined to believe you’ll run back to him and his friends as soon as you can no longer afford even this place. So, I’m here to make you an offer. How much will it take?”
Holy crap, she’s serious. Dead serious, apparently, as she takes out a checkbook and a pen, watching me and waiting for my answer.
