Taste of Revenge

Liz walked into the office that morning, sleep-deprived but enjoying the weekend quiet. The calm shattered, though, when she looked up toward the office across from hers.

Richard was there, behind the glass of his office, looking impeccable despite not having come home all night. His presence so early, after that text justifying his absence with work, turned her stomach.

"I'm not ready for this," she murmured, focusing on the email she was drafting.

She forced herself to keep her eyes fixed on her reports until the click of heels echoed down the hall. When she looked up, Amelia swept into the office with her usual energy.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, puzzled. Amelia had no pending business with the interior design firm, and she hated setting foot in the office on weekends.

"I'm here to kidnap you. I knew you'd be here. I'm taking you to lunch at the new place on Fifteenth."

"I accept, but... what did you do this time, Amelia Kingston?" Liz gave her a searching look.

Her friend burst out laughing, covering her cheeks.

"You're not going to believe it. I met an incredible man, and it was... the best night of my life. A total stallion."

Liz closed her laptop, grateful for the interruption, and gathered her things just before Amelia hugged her from behind.

"I wish you could see him the way I do."

"Well, introduce me, then. I promise I'll try." Liz smiled at her indulgently, wondering how a woman so determined, so brilliant in business, and so intimidatingly beautiful kept stumbling into the wrong men.

As they were about to leave, Richard appeared and gave them an arrogant smile. Liz, fearing another of his run-ins with Amelia, nudged her subtly to keep moving.

"So you finally caught one," Richard remarked, glancing at his watch.

"I always get what I set my sights on, darling," Amelia replied with a sly smile.

"Well, Amelia, you're quite the little devil." He shook his head, returning her smile.

Amelia put her fingers up to her head, miming little horns, and moved sensually in front of him. Their laughter rang out in the hall, and they exchanged a few words under their breath before laughing again.

She was glad they no longer traded jabs, but the conspiratorial tone between them unsettled her, and she tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling starting to form in her stomach.

"I know he's crazy about me," Amelia added out loud.

"I don't think you should talk like that about men you've known for one night," Liz advised, her voice firmer than usual as she locked up the office.

She hesitated, not wanting to anger her, but the two of them laughed again, and she didn't understand the reason behind their shared humor.

When had the two of them become such good friends without her noticing?

"I'll see you at home," she told Richard, and his gaze hardened, but he nodded, gesturing toward the hall.

* * *

At Giorgio's, Amelia wouldn't stop talking about her "wonder man" as she cut a piece of steak, describing every detail with a suggestive smile.

"You have no idea what it's like to feel so alive," she said, her eyes bright with excitement. "That man woke my body from an endless sleep."

Liz struggled to focus on the conversation, but the image of the two of them laughing together struck her again, until it stole her appetite.

"Richard didn't come home last night," she blurted suddenly, trying to make her tone sound casual and unconcerned.

Amelia dropped her fork with a metallic clink against the china.

"Lizzie, what's so strange about that? You know how business is, honey; so don't start spinning your twisted conspiracy theories."

"I'm just saying..."

"That you don't trust your husband anymore?" She lifted her wineglass to her mouth.

She looked away toward the windows, but someone touched her shoulder lightly, and she smiled when she recognized Sara Campbell standing there.

"What a surprise, Elizabeth."

"Come, join us," Liz said, pointing to the empty chair, and Amelia's smile tightened.

She was her mother's best friend, and they'd gone to college together, so Liz had a special fondness for her.

The conversation drifted toward lighter topics until Sara mentioned a mutual friend.

"Poor thing, she never imagined her husband would stoop so low. But you know what they say: whoever goes looking always finds something."

Amelia rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"That won't happen to us, least of all to you, Elizabeth, because you have the best husband in the world."

Amelia laid her hand over hers, and Liz forced a smile, but Sara's words had already lodged in her chest.

* * *

On the drive home, anxiety consumed her as she wondered, over and over, whether the doubts growing inside her had any real basis or were only the product of her imagination.

She walked into the living room and found Emma with red eyes, playing alone, so she set her thoughts aside and sat down beside her to tickle her. At first she laughed, but then she broke into tears against her chest.

"Am I a bad girl, Mommy?"

"Of course not," she answered carefully. "Who told you that?"

"It's just that Beth is leaving."

"Oh, darling," she said, cradling her against her chest. "It's because of her daddy's job, but we can go visit her in Dubai over the holidays."

She almost laughed at the way the girl's eyes lit up before she ran off for her favorite doll.

"Can we play princesses, Mommy?" The little girl wiped her face clumsily.

"Of course, sweetheart. So you were crying about your friend?"

Emma looked toward the kitchen and shook her head.

"Daddy got angry."

Liz hugged her daughter tight, feeling her heart clench with pain. She shouldn't have gone out with Amelia.

"Don't cry, my love," she said, winking at her. "You know grown-ups get a little strange now and then."

She smiled, though she couldn't let it go. It was one thing for them to have marital problems and quite another for him to mistreat Emma just because he'd come home in a bad mood.

She walked to the door that led to the garden, and seeing him laughing by the pool was like a stab.

He seemed so oblivious to everything while she wrestled with her own demons that when she saw him set his phone on the counter, she grabbed it on impulse.

But she didn't expect to find it locked.

"What are you doing?" He frowned and snatched it from her hands, plugging it in out of her reach.

Liz felt her heart race.

"I just... wanted to see if you'd gotten an important message."

"Really? Since when do you consider yourself my secretary? Don't you trust me?"

"It's not that, but..." Liz felt cornered. "Today Sara was saying that..."

"Sara? Now that old woman is your marriage counselor?"

Just then Emma tripped; the phone slid off the table and smashed against the floor with a dry crack.

"No! Why the hell can't you be careful?" Richard shouted at her, setting off the girl's tears again.

"It's not her fault," she whispered as her daughter clung to her legs.

"Are you implying it's my fault?"

A knot in her throat kept her from answering, though she wanted to scream at him that she needed an explanation for the chasm that had opened between them.

"That's just perfect." He let out a humorless laugh. "I'm going to rest for a while, since I didn't sleep a wink all night. And I hope you'll stop making up ridiculous stories in that little head of yours."

Emma's sobs brought on her own, because the life she'd known was vanishing like smoke between her fingers.