The Secrets Sisters Keep by Abby Drake

Author:Abby Drake
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2010-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

Okay, so it was mean. But Amanda was sick to death of this weekend and of trying to put on the show of all shows. Besides, seeing Ray’s name on the clipboard had been too juicy not to share, first with Carleen, then with Babe.

That would teach them both to think Amanda wasn’t on top of the real things that mattered.

She stayed by the roses now, trying to determine where, and with whom, her time would be best spent.

From here she could see her boys, both working to get the golden Statue of Liberty to flinch. She could intervene but did not have the interest.

Heather and the boyfriend were not in sight. Hopefully they were not fornicating in clear view of the crowd assembled under the tent. Just because the two lovebirds had showered and changed did not mean they were fit for society, even Edward’s.

Amanda’s gaze trailed down the hill toward the dock and the boathouse. Jonathan still had not made his way back in the stolen rowboat. Maybe he and Edward had both gone over the falls and Amanda would stand to inherit.

A third (a quarter?) of Edward’s estate.

The two-million-dollar life insurance policy the firm had on Jonathan.

A trace of a smile flitted over her lips. Did she dare wish for such a glorious outcome to this asinine weekend? Resolution to her debt, a new fiscal future free from a cad of a husband?

If Jonathan died, would she be obligated to notify the back-waxer?

“Amanda, darling, whatever are you doing over there in the bushes?” The woman who called out looked vaguely familiar. She wore a great deal of what looked like peacock feathers, including a few in her shock of white hair. Her thin lips were painted too red and her rouge (yes, rouge, not blush) seemed to have been extracted from the same pot. She sat in a cluster of wide-eyed ladies. “Come tell us if it’s true that Carleen was invited.” She patted the eggshell-colored, padded fabric that covered the plastic folding chair and was supposed to look like upholstery. “She worked for my sister in Boston, you know. Mostly stitching ready-to-wear.”

That’s when Amanda realized the woman was Nola, the costume designer who’d been known for her gossip as well as her getups. Amanda hadn’t known (or cared) that Nola had a sister in Boston where Carleen had apparently worked. No doubt Edward secured her the job.

And now the ladies-in-waiting wanted to dish about the decadent sister.

Why the hell not? Amanda trotted to the champagne table and snatched a bottle. Chitchat would be more fun than pondering her mess of a life.

Besides, she thought, as an added attraction she could ice the gossip cake with a tidbit about Babe’s old boyfriend who might make an appearance—wouldn’t that be a hoot?

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