Her nose wrinkles like she’s calling me out, but she doesn’t say anything out loud. About my lie, anyway. “Brock isn’t tabloid bait. Not outside the city. He’s old Wall Street money. The Fifth Avenue equivalent of an ambulance chaser now. I was too young when it all went down to really know the nuances, but I know he and Hayes were besties in grade school, then had a major falling out in high school when Hayes realized Brock was copying his homework and spreading rumors about him behind his back. And once Hayes put his foot down, the bullying started. Kids are shits. That’s as much of that part of the story as you’re getting from me. And then after college, Hayes started dating Trixie Melhoff, and he fell in luuuuuuuurrve. Not just normal love. Like, even I remember how he could basically talk about nothing but Trixie this and Trixie that and he was shopping for rings and had already basically proposed when he found out she was sleeping with Brock behind his back.”
I gasp.
“Yeah. The guy who almost got Hayes kicked out of fancy high school prep school by claiming Hayes was copying him, then saying Hayes had mental health issues and he needed to be institutionalized, like mental health issues are something to be ashamed of, and then sliding the tabloids lies about Hayes doing drugs to cope with his weird sexual fetishes all through college, and I am not saying any more. I’m really not.”
“Your family’s reputation,” I whisper.
She nods emphatically. “Right? Uncle Greg and Aunt Gio were beside themselves. I mean, they believed Hayes when he said it was all lies, but the lengths they had to go to for damage control? They were lucky Hayes is the weird one is the worst that ever took hold in public. And you know what? I don’t like to call women bitches. I think we should support each other, and I think we all have more to give than just chasing billionaires for their money, but that bitch Trixie? She can rot in hell. Most normal women who want to use Hayes would’ve cozied up to him to get close to Jonas instead, and believe me, plenty did, but no. She accepted his proposal while sleeping with his mortal enemy. His former best friend who bullied him all through school. That’s like—that’s the worst kind of betrayal. And that’s all I’m saying.”
My heart hurts. “Why are people cruel?”
“I don’t know. But he hasn’t had another serious girlfriend since. I think he tried once or twice, but you know how it is when you’re rich and famous. Everyone has an angle. And all of them had angles. So everyone in the family’s trying to find someone he could marry without loving so that he doesn’t have to go through all of this ridiculous press and publicity with being the last eligible billionaire on the planet. And he’s not, for the record. There are like, three single women billionaires who are in their thirties and forties, and is anyone talking about them? No. Fucking two-faced twats. So. What’s your angle? What do I have to murder you for?”
A tear slips down my cheek. I try to swipe it away fast, so she won’t see, but another follows.
“Okay, I won’t really murder you,” Keisha says. “Stop crying. I hate crying. Crying makes me bleeeaaaaaa, you know?” She sticks her tongue out and shudders.
“I wish he’d been born to a normal, middle-class family outside of the spotlight,” I whisper.
Her face freezes mid-shudder, and when it moves again, she stares at me in horror. “Fuck, B. That’s like, the worst thing you could’ve ever said.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what I wish for him too.”
24
From the Text Messages of Hayes and Begonia
Begonia: Good morning, sunshine! Sorry I missed you leaving. How was breakfast with Merriweather and Winnie? Or ignore me. I know you’re busy. We can talk later.
Hayes: It’s two in the afternoon.
Begonia: It’s still morning in Hawaii. P.s. I should not drink wine again tonight.
Hayes: There’s a craft brewery with excellent burgers a short helicopter ride from Sagewood House. Be ready at seven. They have root beer if you’re off alcohol altogether.
Begonia: Fran?oise is making roast duck with some kind of fancy sauce I can’t spell, and fingerling potatoes, and brussels sprouts that she swears will taste like they’re blessed by the gods, and crème br?lée for dessert.
Hayes: Would you rather have duck at home with my family, or a burger with local flavor?
Begonia: She’s going to so much work.
Hayes: She goes to that much work every day. It’s her job. She likes it.