Good Luck (29 page)

“I bought a few things,” Emma said sulkily.

“Like…?”

“Like my wedding dress. Oh, my God, you should see it. It’s gorgeous. It’s strapless and has a tiered skirt with these cool, modern ruffles around the waist,” Emma said dreamily, her financial crisis forgotten for the moment.

“You spent all of that money on a dress?”

“No, of course not. We used part of it for our honeymoon—we’re going to Peter Island Resort. The pictures look amazing. It’s a private island, and the suites are all superluxe.” Her tone turned defensive. “Don’t we deserve to have a once-in-a-lifetime trip for our honeymoon?”

Deserve?
I decided to let that pass. “And that’s it? A dress and a vacation?”

“And I leased a Mercedes and bought some clothes. It actually went very quickly,” Emma said, her tone defensive again.

“I bet,” I said. And then, remembering my own shopping extravaganzas and the new Porsche parked in the driveway, I realized that it was true: It really did go quickly.

“Why don’t you sell the house?” I suggested.

“Christian doesn’t want to. But between the mortgage payments and the insurance, it’s sucking up all of our money. I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be able to keep it.”

I had a feeling I knew where this was going. And I had to stop it.

“Emma, I’m not buying you a million-dollar beachside home,” I said flatly.

“I’m not asking you to!”

“Then what are you asking for?”

“I need money for the wedding,” Emma said.

“I thought Dad wanted to pay for that,” I said.

“So he says, but he won’t give me nearly enough. I need at least another hundred thousand,” she said.

I stared at her. I’d always known that Emma had no fiscal sense. If you gave her a nickel, she’d find a way to spend a quarter. But to think that even Emma, who was learning for the first time what it was to be house poor, would be stupid enough to spend that much money on a wedding when she couldn’t even make her mortgage payments was incomprehensible to me.

I closed my eyes for a long moment and realized that if I gave in now, this would never end. Right now it was the wedding, but it wouldn’t be too long before she’d ask me to bail her out on her mortgage payments. And what then? Visa bills she couldn’t pay? Property taxes? Luxury vacations?

I drew in a deep breath, let it out in a whoosh, and said, “No. I’m not giving you more money.”

“Why not?” Emma demanded, her voice suddenly shrill.

“Because I would just be enabling your out-of-control spending habits,” I said.

“But that’s not fair,” Emma exclaimed. She jumped off the bed and glowered down at me, hands set on her narrow waist.

“It’s my money. I can do with it what I wish,” I said, crossing my arms and staring right back at her.

Emma snorted. “Please. It’s not like you earned it.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I just don’t think you have the right to be so selfish!”

“Right back at you, little sister,” I snapped, anger fraying my already tattered nerves.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“It means, I’ve already given you more money than you deserve. And instead of being grateful, you’re acting like a spoiled brat,” I shot back. “I wish I hadn’t given it to you. I wish I hadn’t given you one single dime.”

I had seen Emma angry before. When she was a little girl, she’d stick her lower lip out in a pout while fat tears trickled down her baby-rounded cheeks. And as a teenager, she’d had her fair share of temper tantrums that would end with her slamming a door behind her as loudly as possible. But I’d never seen her quite like this. It was as though all other emotions had been frozen right out of her. Her eyes narrowed, her jaw set, and she regarded me with cold hostility. I flinched; she was looking at me as though she hated me.

“If that’s the way you feel, then I don’t think I want you in my life anymore,” Emma said.

“God, Emma, stop being so childish.” I had wearied of this scene, and I turned away from my sister, wanting more than anything for her to just go and leave me in peace.

“I mean it. In fact, consider yourself officially uninvited to my wedding,” Emma announced, as though this were the worst punishment she could think up for me. “I don’t want toxic people around me on the happiest day of my life.”

Toxic people? I thought. I felt like I’d entered a fun house, my world turned into one of distorted reflections. Small became large, thin became fat, and handing over a half-million-dollar gift made you toxic.

My sister could be selfish and exasperating, but now, for the first time, I felt an intense stab of hatred for her.

“If that’s what you want, fine. And now I think it’s time for you to leave. Past time, really,” I said.

Emma stood there for a moment longer, bristling with anger. Clearly she wanted to say more, something that would wound me. But finally she just tossed her hair, turned, and stalked out of the room. I waited until she was gone, and then I sank back down on the edge of the bed and rested my head in my hands.

I’m not sure how long I sat there. I breathed in deeply, willing my fury to die down. But instead of relaxing, I just grew more angry. It felt as if my friends and now my family had turned on me like buzzards feasting on roadkill.

My thoughts went to Hayden again and the stash of money in her drawer. I didn’t know if I could bear finding out that one more person I’d trusted had let me down.

Twenty-One

         
HAYDEN DIDN’T GET HOME UNTIL THE EARLY AFTERNOON,
her breakfast out having extended into lunch and beyond. But despite the late night I assumed she’d had, Hayden didn’t look tired. To the contrary, she seemed to radiate contentment. Her dark hair was shiny, her green eyes were gleaming with triumph, and her dark red lipstick was, as always, perfect.

“Hey,” she said, as she burst out on to the lanai, where I was lying on a chaise with Harper Lee, rereading
Anna Karenina.
I was just at the part where Vronsky has followed Anna back to St. Petersburg, and I wondered what it must feel like to inspire that sort of love in a man who hardly knows you. Or maybe that’s the point; maybe it’s the mystery that attracts him. Would Vronsky continue to follow after Anna like a love-struck puppy if he’d seen her flossing her teeth or puking in the toilet with a stomach flu? Doubtful.

“Hi,” I said, closing the book.

“You would not believe what I have been through in the past twenty-four hours,” Hayden said, kicking off her heels and flopping down into the chaise next to mine. She closed her eyes and lifted her face up toward the sun.

“Ian called about ten times,” I said.

“Ian! I totally forgot!” Hayden exclaimed, her eyes popping open. “I was supposed to meet him at the Drum Roll last night.”

“That’s what he said. He was worried about you.”

Hayden didn’t seem overly concerned. She waved a dismissive hand. “You’re not going to believe this, but I met my future husband yesterday,” she said, turning to look at me.

“I saw him.”

“You did? Where?”

“The two of you were out here by the pool last night,” I said.

Hayden let out a nervous giggle. “I was wondering why you slept upstairs. How much did you see?”

“Too much. I beat a hasty retreat,” I replied.

“I should probably be embarrassed,” Hayden said. She smiled and stretched. “But I’m too happy. Amazingly, incredibly, deliciously happy.”

“Tell me about him,” I said.

“His name is Hartford McAllister, but everyone calls him Trip,” she said.

“Understandable with a name like Hartford. How did you meet him?”

“Actually…” Hayden hesitated. “He’s sort of a friend of my father’s.”

My eyebrows arched about as high as eyebrows can go. “Are you serious?”

“It’s not like they were boyhood friends or anything,” Hayden said hastily. “They just know each other from around here.” She circled one hand in the air to indicate the island.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “So how old is he?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask,” Hayden said. “But I don’t think age is all that important in a marriage. What matters more is common goals and ideals.” She smiled wickedly. “And lots and lots of money. Which, luckily, Trip happens to have.”

I had a feeling that was the direction we were headed in. Trip was an attractive man, especially for his age, but he wasn’t much competition for Ian’s sweet smile and killer body. I’d seen Ian in a bathing suit; it was an impressive sight.

“How much money?” I asked.

“Big time. Oil money. His family’s from Texas,” Hayden said. “And Trip is part owner of a nationwide chain of restaurants.”

“Which one?”

Hayden shrugged. “Something to do with hamburgers. I don’t know. Anyway, I bumped into him at Ta-boó, and he said he remembered me from some cocktail party my mother threw a few years ago. To be honest, I didn’t remember him at all, but we got to talking, and I found out he’s newly divorced, and one thing led to another….”

“Is he aware that he’s going to be your future husband?”

Hayden’s smile faded and was replaced by a concerned frown.

“What’s wrong? You seem weird. Did something happen last night at the fund-raiser? Did you and Drew have a fight?”

Drew. Disappointment washed over me, followed closely by a chaser of shame. I’d badly screwed things up with him. But I couldn’t think about that now.

“I went into your bedroom last night,” I said, abruptly changing the subject.

Hayden stiffened visibly. With a studied casualness, she pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her bag and slid them on top of her head, holding back her hair. “Oh?”

“Your computer was on. I saw what you were auctioning off on eBay,” I said.

“You were snooping through my private things?” Hayden asked sharply.

I stared at her, not quite believing that she was going to play the role of victim. It was a bit like a woman finding out that her husband is having an affair by checking the incoming and outgoing calls on his cell phone and then, when she confronts him, he gives her a lecture about respecting his privacy.

“No. I went in there to borrow pajamas, since I couldn’t get into the pool house, and your computer just happened to be on. Why are you selling off the stuff I bought you?”

“That’s none of your business,” Hayden said. She folded her arms in front of her. Something was wrong here—very wrong—but I didn’t know what. Yet.

“None of my business?” I repeated, staring at her in disbelief.

“Yes. Those are my clothes, my things, and I can do with them what I wish.”

“But I
bought
them for
you
.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“You didn’t say no when I offered either,” I retorted. “And even if you didn’t ask, you made it pretty damned clear that you wanted them.”

Hayden turned away, her shoulders stiff with anger. “Lucy, like I said, this is none of your business. So please butt out.”

“What about the money?”

“What money?”

“The cash in your drawer.”

“You went through my drawers too?” Hayden whirled back around and stared accusingly at me.

I squared my shoulders and stared right back at her. “I told you, I was looking for pajamas. So is that money mine?”

“What exactly are you trying to say, Lucy?” Her voice was like cut glass, sharp and cold.

My skin felt tight and hot on my face, and it took effort to keep my voice even. “I’m asking you if you took money from me.”

“How dare you?” Hayden hissed.

Tension crackled between us, and I could feel the hair on my arms stand on end, as though electrified. For a moment I considered backing down. I could say I must have been mistaken, and apologize for bringing it up. But I knew it wasn’t a mistake. I don’t know how I knew—maybe it was the intensity of her anger, or maybe I saw shadows of guilt flickering behind the veil of her green eyes—but I knew: Hayden had been stealing from me.

“Tell me why,” I pressed her.

Hayden’s face suddenly twisted with fury. “Do you have any idea how much you’d have to pay in rent to live in a house like this in Palm Beach?” Hayden asked, her voice rising to a near-shout. “Try fifty thousand a month, at
least
. Yet you’ve been living here for
free
. And then you have the nerve to turn around and bitch about a couple of bucks here and there? Some clothes?”

I stared at her, not quite believing that this was happening. Hayden and I had never fought before, not even when we were roommates sharing a two-hundred-square-foot dorm room. I had certainly never seen her look at me like this—as if she wanted to strike me. Her cheeks had darkened, and her eyes flashed. Her red mouth curled into a sneer.

Be very careful whom you trust,
Peter Graham had cautioned me. The memory of those words jolted me. I had never thought they could apply to one of my oldest and closest friends.

“Why?” I asked again, my voice choked with emotion. “What do you need the money for?”

Hayden’s eyes slid away then, fixing on a spot on the ground. I half-expected her to tell me to mind my own business again, but it had gone too far: We were beyond denials.

“I’ve had a run of bad luck at the tables lately,” she said.

It took a few beats for this to sink in.

“You mean, gambling?” I asked slowly. “But I thought you did that just for fun.”

“It was. In the beginning.”

“Beginning? But how long have you been gambling? Just since we came here, right?”

Hayden still refused to meet my eyes, and suddenly the truth of what was going on clicked into place, like pins in a lock, and it all became devastatingly clear. Ian wasn’t the one who had a gambling problem. It was Hayden. And with this blinding insight, everything else began to make sense—Hayden’s estrangement from her parents, her financial problems, even her failed Web site, which was probably just as much of a gamble as a hand of blackjack.

“How much do you owe?” I asked.

Hayden closed her eyes briefly. “Thousands.”

“Like ten thousand?” I asked.

Hayden looked at me then, her expression no longer defiant. Instead, she looked beaten.

“All together, around two hundred thousand. Not including what I owe my parents. They paid for some of my debts before cutting me off,” Hayden said. Her voice thickened, and tears glittered in her eyes. She tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in her chest and came out as a strangled sob.

I gaped at her, stunned by this enormous figure. “But…how? Where did you get the money to wager that much?”

“The casino advanced me markers. They knew who my family is and figured I was good for it. I thought that if I could just raise some capital and turn my losing streak around, it would all be fine. Then I was going to pay you back, Lucy, I swear I was. My parents too.” The tears spilled out, trailing down her cheeks. Hayden’s shoulders slumped forward in defeat.

As I stared at my friend, I was overcome by a deep rush of sadness. Hayden had everything—she was bright, beautiful, and had every advantage money could buy, the sort of privileges and education that most could only dream of. And she had pissed it all away. Thinking about this, about all that had been wasted, I suddenly felt as if a plug had been pulled, and all of the energy drained out of my body.

“I should leave,” I said abruptly. “I’ll make the arrangements as soon as possible.”

“You don’t have to go,” Hayden said, wiping at the tears with the back of her hand. “Really, Lucy, I’m going to make this right. That’s why I have to marry Trip. Then all of these problems will go away.”

“Marrying Trip isn’t going to make this go away,” I said slowly. “Hayden, you have a problem. Surely you must see that. You need help, professional help, to deal with your gambling addiction.”

Hayden looked at me blankly. “Gambling addiction? Jesus, Lucy, I think you’ve watched a few too many episodes of
Oprah.
I’ve just had some bad luck, that’s all.”

“When you reach the point where you’re auctioning off all of your belongings to feed your habit, it’s not just a run of bad luck. It’s a serious problem.”

Hayden shook her head, her face hardening. I made one last try.

“I’ll help,” I offered. “I’m sure we can find a program designed to help people with this sort of problem.”

“You, help me?” Hayden laughed scornfully. “That’s a good one. You, the woman who wins millions and millions of dollars, the kind of money that can solve any problem, and yet acts like it’s the worst thing that could’ve happened.”

“No, I don’t! I never said that!” I exclaimed, stung by this sudden attack.

“Please. How many times have you moaned about missing your pathetic job? As though not working when you don’t even have to is some sort of tragedy. It makes me
sick
. You have no idea how lucky you are. So how
dare
you lecture me!”

I stared at my friend, so startled by her anger, her vitriol, that I couldn’t speak. Is that how she really saw me?

Hayden seemed to realize that she’d gone too far. She stopped abruptly and covered her mouth with one hand. Her eyes, green and luminous, were wide with shock. “Oh, God, Lulu, I didn’t mean to…” she began, reaching toward me.

I knew she was about to apologize, and I didn’t want to hear it. For now I was angry, too, my rage rising up until I could feel the blood pounding in my ears. I stared at her, wondering if I was seeing the real Hayden for the first time. She’d used me, stolen from me, and then finally sneered at me, as though I were some pathetic loser, beneath her contempt.

“Don’t bother,” I said. And then I got up and walked away from her. As far as I was concerned, our friendship was over.