Dominic’s eyes narrow, and I can sense his doubts and annoyance.
He doesn’t trust me.
Suddenly, the bacon turns to sawdust in my mouth. “I should check in with my office.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“We’re in year-end holiday mode, which means people are working weekends too.”
I push my chair back and stand up. I pad quietly over the cool floor and pull out my phone from the purse on the coffee table. I have a couple of texts from Rhonda.
Not sure if you saw it, but there’s an article about your brother Elliot and your former stepmom. It also has some photos from the charity dinner at the Sterling mansion. Thought you should know.
Elliot and one of my former stepmoms? I stop, then remember Annabelle Underhill. But as far as I know, they didn’t hang out together at the event. Rhonda’s second text contains a link. I tap my thumb on it.
The phone immediately pulls up a lurid tabloid site with garish red and purple flashing GIFs. I skim the so-called article.
It chronicles how Elliot and Annabelle Underhill, a.k.a. Julian’s Wife Number Three, used to date, but she left him for our father and a fatter bank account—back then Elliot did all right, but wasn’t sitting on a pile of money like he is now. She apparently had sex with Elliot on her wedding day in some closet. Now, having divorced Julian and married a second husband who’s old enough to be her father, she’s realized what a mistake she made and is after Elliot. The pictures accompanying the article show her touching him, showing him bruises on her arms, and so on.
I press my forehead with the heel of my hand. Good God, what a mess. I’ve always known Annabelle is a crass, classless opportunist, but this is too much. At the same time, I don’t doubt the truth of the article. The details are too specific.
Annabelle has nothing to gain by making all this public, which means Elliot’s behind it. He didn’t think twice about releasing a sex tape, so this is nothing—pretty tame, actually, compared to a homemade porn movie.
I text him.
What’s the meaning of the article, Elliot? Are you trying to provoke Dad and Stanton?
I’m not too worried about Stanton Underhill, Annabelle’s current husband. He understands what kind of woman he married, and if she embarrasses and annoys him, he can simply divorce her, using the prenup he undoubtedly had her sign to protect his assets. But Dad is another matter. He’s inordinately proud and vindictive. He won’t take kindly to learning he’s been cuckolded by his own son.
Elliot ignores my text. Since he’s never without his gadgets, it means he’s either avoiding me—hey, truth hurts, especially coming from his sister—or swimming or spending some private time with his wife. I hope it’s the last. That poor woman deserves some serious TLC to make up for another scandal bomb in her married life.
“Problem?” Dominic asks from the table.
I shake my head, then call Rhonda, moving to the bedroom for more privacy.
“Hello, Elizabeth. How’s Hawaii?”
“It’s all right. I miss L.A.”
“Already?”
“Miss work, really.”
Laughing softly, Rhonda updates me on the progress, her voice soft yet brisk. She’s a single mom in her mid-thirties. I hired her as an assistant three years ago. She was living in a homeless shelter with her young daughter, and despite a lot of experience as an event planner and personal assistant, she couldn’t land another job after she was let go.
Rhonda is one of my best people—conscientious and reliable. She hasn’t taken a single sick day since she was hired, and she truly believes in what the foundation does. It isn’t just a steady paycheck for her.
“Patrice wants to talk to you,” Rhonda says.
“Sure. Put her on speaker.”
“Hi, Elizabeth,” comes Patrice’s voice. Husky and deep, it has the gravelly undertone of a smoker. She’s been with the foundation for almost twenty-five years, and I depend on her to run every drive smoothly. “You have a box from Detroit.”
“Detroit?” I don’t know anyone there.
“It’s the afterschool program you funded,” Rhonda adds.
“We funded,” I correct her, recalling the cause and smiling. Those kids were tiny, most of them in kindergarten or ea