The Sweet Life by Francine Pascal

Author:Francine Pascal
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2012-09-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

While Elizabeth reluctantly grabbed her jacket and keys from her desk, Lila Fowler was busy across town filming the next installment of The True Housewives of Sweet Valley. Lila and two of the other Housewives sat in Lila’s elaborately decorated living room.

It was supposed to be a wine and cheese afternoon party, but Lila had filled her glass with seltzer and had pointedly skipped the cheese for a snack of pickles and peanut butter. Lila wasn’t actually pregnant, but she’d seen enough movies to know how she ought to act.

“I thought food cravings didn’t start until the second trimester,” said Marina Delgardo, sipping from her glass of wine.

“Lay off, Marina,” Devone Waters said, putting down her own wineglass. “It’s not easy being pregnant. Give the woman a break.”

Marina stared at Lila’s still-flat abdomen. “She’s been pregnant two seconds, and already she’s got cravings? Please.”

Lila sent Marina a back off or you’ll regret teasing a pregnant woman look. Ever since Lila had announced she was expecting her estranged husband Ken’s baby, Devone had been her true friend and supporter. Marina, however, wasn’t nearly so warm, and sat stubbornly on the fence, hedging her bets and ensuring she would be on the side of whichever Housewife won the standoff: Lila or Ashley Morgan.

Right now, Lila was the clear favorite in terms of fan support. Online and elsewhere, Ashley was called a backstabbing home wrecker who should be ashamed of herself.

Lila glanced down at her plate and the gooey peanut-butter glob on the end of the dill pickle and felt like retching. The combination smelled awful. How could any woman—pregnant or otherwise—ever eat this? Luckily, she had a way out.

“I don’t feel so good,” Lila said, and dropped the peanut butter–clad pickle onto her plate. “Excuse me.”

She ran to the nearest bathroom, slammed the door behind her, flipped on the fan, and leaned against the marble countertop. She took the opportunity to muss her hair strategically, so that it looked at once like she’d been sick, but also managed to be close-up ready at the same time. It was an art, much like perfecting the deliberately rumpled bed-head look.

She had to admit, since dyeing her hair a few shades darker, she looked a lot like a younger Demi Moore. The darker hair suited her. Her cheeks, however, didn’t seem rosy enough for pregnancy, so she applied some extra bronzer, hoping to get that perfect expectant-mother glow. She sighed. Faking pregnancy was a lot of work.

A text came in from Jessica.

GIVEN UP ON THE PLAN YET?

Lila grabbed the phone. NO AND IT’S WORKING, SO THERE, she typed.

Jessica might have been one of Lila’s oldest and dearest friends, but sometimes the girl simply had no faith. Jessica had made it clear from the start she didn’t support Lila’s fake-pregnancy plan.

“What happens when you do get him back and then he finds out you’re not pregnant?” Jessica had asked.

“Miscarriage, obviously. But not until I’ve got Ashley out of the picture. Way out.”

“Lila, we’re not in high school anymore,” said Jessica suddenly, sounding just like Elizabeth.

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