No One Needs to Know: A Novel by Lindsay Cameron

Author:Lindsay Cameron [Cameron, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2023-05-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

POPPY

When the call from the doorman’s desk cut through the morning silence of her apartment, the initial feeling that flooded Poppy’s bloodstream was relief.

Bennett was early.

Her nerves had been on a razor’s edge since the night of the cocktail party, when Norah had appeared beside her in the living room like a Dickensian hallucination. Norah’s presence at the party had caught Poppy so off guard that for a moment she’d wondered if Norah was in on Bennett’s scheme, like some screwed-up Upper East Side Bonnie and Clyde. But it was quickly evident that Norah was too oblivious to be one half of a calculated blackmailing plot. Poppy had never been so grateful for a drunken invitee creating a scene as she had been for Heather. Sure, Poppy would have preferred the evening not be remembered for a physical altercation between the guests, but the incident had accelerated the swift departure of Bennett, so ultimately it was worth it. The cause of the confrontation was still a mystery to Poppy, but she wasn’t going to expel any energy tracking down the answer. Sooner or later Bennett was going to try his scam with the wrong woman, and Poppy did not want to be part of the narrative when he did.

Despite her best efforts, Bennett had managed to corner her in the hallway on his way out of the party. “D-Day is Monday. I’ll be back here at noon, and I hope for your sake you do the right thing, so I can delete this,” he’d whispered in her ear, waggling his phone inches from her face. But when he darted his eyes apprehensively in the direction of the bathroom door, he’d inadvertently played his hand. Bennett wasn’t going to reveal the existence of the video to Harris, because Bennett stood to lose as much as Poppy did. Not dollar for dollar, of course, but enough to make him want to keep his mouth closed and his iCloud to himself. Norah might’ve turned a blind eye to his indiscretions in the past, but she wouldn’t in this case. Because here was the thing with turning a blind eye—it was impossible to do once somebody flicked on the neon lights and forced your lids open. Poppy would know—her mother had practiced turning a blind eye as if it were a religion. She could still hear her say, in a voice as steely as the concrete holding up this building, “It had better not be one of my friends,” when her father stumbled through the front door in the wee hours of the morning, smelling like wine and perfume. To Poppy’s knowledge, her father had heeded the warning. Because even partners who accepted regular infidelity as a part of their marriage, like her mother had, weren’t going to accept being made a fool of. Every celebrity divorce proved that.

Today, Poppy intended to call Bennett’s bluff. The conversation obviously couldn’t happen via text or email, lest she pad her already sizable and incriminating paper

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