Shoe Addicts Anonymous (27 page)

She raised her eyebrows. “Did I?”

“Don’t fuck with me.”

She gave a laugh. “It seems I’m about the only one who
isn’t
. Now, here’s the deal. I want a divorce, and I want the house free and clear. I also want a net settlement of two million, so you’re going to have to pay the taxes on it before I get it.”

He looked at her with open hostility. “You bitch.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, you ain’t seen
nothin’
yet. Try and screw me over, and I’ll take this public and you really won’t have a future.”

He twisted his lips into a smug smile. “You just said the public would forgive infidelity.”

“I don’t mean a political future. I mean a literal future—thanks to that detective you hired to follow me, I have some really excellent pictures of you and Chiara Mornini. In her red silk bed. You remember that, right?”

Jim paled three shades.

“I don’t think Anthony would take the news nearly as well as I did.” Helene stood up. “So I can expect you to agree to my terms, right?”

He glowered at her. “And I can expect you to be discreet, right?”

She nodded, as if they’d just agreed to a dinner date. “Absolutely. Lucky for you, I can be
far
more discreet than you.” She turned to go and tossed over her shoulder, “Let me know where you’ll be staying, so my lawyer can contact you.”

She didn’t listen for his answer. She didn’t care anymore. She had the upper hand and she knew it.

She was leaving with her head held high.

And she was going straight to Ormond’s to buy those Bruno Maglis.

I
’ve got it!” Lorna called, hurrying into the newly expanded offices of SAA, Inc. She held up a copy of
Women in Business,
a national monthly that had profiled Lorna, Helene, Sandra, and Joss a couple of months ago for this, their October issue.

Sandra and Helene hurried over, Helene holding six-month-old Hope Sutton Zaharis on her hip, despite her two-thousand-dollar Armani suit.

“What did they call it?” Helene asked, hoisting the baby over to her other hip so she could move in and look over Lorna’s shoulder.

Lorna flipped through the pages. “‘Sole Distributor.’” She nodded approvingly. “Nice. Accurate.”

“Where’s Joss?” Helene asked. “She should hear this.”

“With Phillipe, of course.” Sandra laughed. Where
else
would she be?”

Joss and Phillipe had been spending a lot of time together and, as a result, not only was Joss aglow with infatuation, but her shoe taste had improved
enormously
. Phillipe had even named his latest creation, a gorgeous satin peep-toe pump with a stacked stiletto heel, the Jocelyn.

“They should just get married,” Lorna said, scanning the article. “It would be great publicity. Oh! Oh! Look at this—‘
record orders
from Nordstrom, Macy’s, Bergdorf Goodman, Saks, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.’ Here we go. ‘With the creative eye of former senate wife Helene Zaharis, and the consumer sense of former spendthrift Lorna Rafferty, the group has forged forward into the hearts and minds of shoe addicts everywhere.’ I can’t wait to show Holden that
Business-Week
finds my former spending ways to be an asset to the company.”

“What about me?” Sandra teased. “Just because I don’t sleep with power or overburden my credit cards, I don’t get a mention?”

“Don’t worry, here you are: ‘Potomac native, Sandra Vanderslice, is credited with being the group’s moral compass, keeping the company on environmentally high ground, and implementing fair trade initiatives.’ How do you like that?” Lorna wiggled her eyebrows. “You are our moral compass!”

“Many of my former callers would agree with that.”

Lorna laughed and read on. “‘Jocelyn Bowen, armed only with an AA from Felling-Garver (VA) Community College, put together a business plan that excited so many investors that the IPO was completely snapped up within an hour of trading.’ That was amazing,” Lorna commented, then read on, “‘She is now the steady amore of star designer Phillipe Carfagni, and he calls her his muse for his spring collection.’ Aw. Isn’t that so sweet?”

“She deserves it, too,” Sandra said without a trace of envy. “At least one of us got the fairy tale without having to kiss all the frogs first.”

“And she got the shoes, too,” Lorna said wistfully. “All the perfectly fitted, beautiful Carfagnis she could ever want.”

“So do you,” Helene said, giving Lorna a nudge. “It’s one of the big benefits of owning this company.”

“You’re right.” Lorna laughed. “Free shoes for life. I guess it’s a fairy tale come true for all of us. I guess your addictions can either kill you or make you rich.”

“I’ll take rich,” Helene said.

“Hear, hear.” Sandra agreed.

And they did.