Young Rich Widows by Kimberly Belle Layne Fargo Cate Holahan and Vanessa Lillie

Author:Kimberly Belle, Layne Fargo, Cate Holahan and Vanessa Lillie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks

CAMILLE

I lean against a marble column, clutching a glass of champagne and watching a couple of topless girls hoover up an impressively long line. A year ago, I would have plucked that rolled-up hundred out of their painted fingers and shoved myself between them. Hell, a week ago I probably would have. This party is my kind of debauchery, and honestly, I’m disappointed that I didn’t know it was a monthly thing before tonight.

But after that performance Justine just gave, I can’t seem to get in the mood.

Making whoopee, my ass.

What on earth could I possibly say to make her understand? That, okay, maybe my relationship with Jack began with a whole lot of whoopee but that it quickly turned into something more? That we often fantasized about how our lives would look if our spouses didn’t exist and we could be together? That I loved him, and I’m pretty sure he loved me back?

Or maybe I could tell her that our first kiss happened on a night like this one—a raucous concert after-party at the Living Room downtown. Both of us were drunk and flying solo, me because Peter hated the Ramones and Jack because of JJ.

“There’s not a sitter on the planet who’s good enough,” he said with a roll of his eyes, which made it clear this policy was his wife’s. That was how he talked about her that night and every time since—in the most roundabout way possible, so that both of us might actually forget he had one.

And I tried, good Lord, how I tried.

In the beginning, it was easy, when the lust was overwhelming enough to smother the thoughts of poor, beautiful Justine at home alone, flipping channels and trying not to think about why her husband’s meetings stretched longer and longer into the evenings. There was no room in my head for her, only thoughts about how much I wanted Jack, and I didn’t know what to do with that. Wanting things, sure, that’s been a constant for as long as I can remember. But never have I ever wanted anything like I wanted him.

“I never knew my father,” I told him once, our bodies still slick with sweat, our feet still tangled in the thousand-count sheets at the Copley Plaza in Boston. He’d just finished telling me about JJ’s latest milestone, and it was obvious how much he adored his son. And it wasn’t just the contrast to my own absent father that was making me emotional. I was beginning to wonder if Jack’s love for JJ meant he’d never walk away from Justine. “He left when I was little,” I said. “I don’t even have a picture.”

It wasn’t the entire truth. My dad didn’t leave. My dumbass mother just didn’t know which loser to inform he was about to become a father. But I certainly spent my entire life feeling abandoned by her, constantly checked out on cheap booze and whatever pills she could scavenge, too comatose to play with me or often even to feed me.

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