Chapter 1
Harry, that bitch. Caryn, her boss’ wife, had the tendency to mutter the words every time she was in a bad mood. It had Tilly so curious that she actually logged in to her dormant-for-years account on Facebook, just to see who this Harry could be.
It took a lot of snooping and digging, but she eventually found the person she was looking for, and Harry turned out to be someone previously employed by Sweet Life The real estate agency was where Caryn also used to work, before having met Tilly’s boss and eventually becoming Mrs. Lionel Hodge.
Harry, on the other hand, had apparently quit working for similar reasons, but while Caryn ended up married to a seventy-year-old millionaire, the other girl had tied the knot with none other than Devon Montgomery, a thirty-something billionaire who was as devilishly handsome as Mr. Hodge was wrinkly.
Having seen Harry’s photos, Tilly had no problems guessing why Caryn seemed to violently dislike her former colleague. Caryn was drop-dead gorgeous in every sense of the word while Harry was the cute and curvy girl-next-door type. Vain as she was, Caryn no doubt thought it should’ve been her who had ended a handsome billionaire’s wife.
“God, I hate that bitch.”
And there she went again, Tilly thought while working on the garnish of the pasta salad she was about to serve.
The kitchen in the Hodges’ home had an open layout, allowing Tilly to observe the two women seated at the dining table as they went through photos posted by a website dedicated to San Antonio’s high society.
“She really is an eyesore, isn’t she? I mean, God, would you look at the size of those hips?” Lena, Caryn’s best friend, seemed to take the cattiest amount of pleasure in her observation. “I won’t blame Devon Montgomery if he feels like he’s going to bed with a whale every time he sees her without his clothes.”
Tilly managed not to roll her eyes as she loaded the plates on the tray. Horrible, horrible witches, she thought disapprovingly as she started serving the women their salad. Under their glamorous disguises, with their salon-styled tresses and on-point makeup, that was all Caryn and Lena were, and it was probably why God couldn’t yet bless them with men who looked as good as their bank accounts.
“Look at that smile, Len.” Caryn practically broke a nail as she furiously jabbed at the couple’s photo on her cellphone’s screen. “He’s obviously faking it.”
“I know, right?” Lena wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I mean, let’s face it. Whatever reasons he has for that mail-order bride thing? It’s obvious he’s realized that they weren’t enough to tie himself with a cow for the rest of his life.”
Tilly’s ears perked up as she walked back to the kitchen. Mail-order bride thing?
“I called up Heart’s Match, the agency who arranged their marriage? They totally wouldn’t talk to me and even threatened legal action if I ever spoke about that bitch in public.”
“Oh my gosh, the nerve!”
“I know, right?” Caryn’s voice was full of bitter resentment. “Honestly, I think that company’s a total scam. Like they’re really in it for true love.”
“It’s always about the money,” Lena derided. “But you’ll see, Car. That woman’s not going to last in those circles. Sooner or later, someone will tell it to her face that she’ll never fit in—”
Caryn suddenly sat up. “Oh my God, I just have the most fantastic idea. What if we write anonymously to the press, let them know about the ugly truth behind their marriage? Can you just imagine what it would do to her?”
Tilly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Harry hadn’t done anything to either of these two, and yet Caryn and Lena were virtually cackling in glee as they started plotting how to ruin the other woman’s life.
Witches. They really were witches, and with that thought in mind, she slid her phone out and quickly typed Heart’s Match on Google’s search bar before dropping the phone back into her apron pocket.
The one time Caryn had caught Tilly using her phone, the woman had slapped her in the face and yelled at her for being a ‘lazy pig.’ She had tried explaining that she was on her lunch break, but when it only seemed to enrage Caryn further, Tilly had realized she was only wasting her breath and simply chalked up the whole thing to experience.
Although Tilly’s shift was supposed to end at six in the evening, it was almost a quarter to eight when she was finally able to leave the house, having had to prepare one last round of cocktails for Caryn and Lena.
Having already sent out a couple of feelers to various tabloids, the two had started drinking to their success, and the memory had Tilly mentally grimacing. Witches, she thought again, and as soon as she was out of the Hodges’ home, she quickly took her phone out to see if Google had come up with any leads.