speak to him, he was tucked into a corner with Richard, talking as though they were old friends. David had always treated Richard with insincere deference. Richard, in keeping with his giant ego, had lapped up the attention.
She wondered for a moment how many of these people would remain in her life after she and Richard divorced, and surprised herself by not caring. The volume of conversation increased as people consumed more alcohol. Soon the jazz that was in the background was switched to the R&B songs that Olivia and Richard had danced to in the 1980s.
Someone moved the couches and coffee table to free up the living room floor. Soon the music got loud, a blessing in Olivia’s mind as it gave her an excuse not to engage in conversation. People danced. Olivia mingled. Every time someone handed her a glass of champagne or wine, she would thank them and set it down, never taking a sip. She planned on being perfectly sober by the time she confronted Richard.
When she retreated to the kitchen for a glass of water, she found Denny and David in the middle of an intense conversation. David was towering over Denny and doing most of the talking.
When Olivia said, “Everything all right?” they stepped away from each other. David gave her his usual cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes and Olivia wondered, not for the first time, what Denny saw in him.
“Are you enjoying your party?” David asked.
“I am.” She turned her gaze to Denny, noticing her daughter’s damp eyelashes. “Thank you for planning it, Den. The catering and the decorating has your touch of elegance.”
“I enjoyed it,” Denny said. “Nice to know I still have an eye.”
Richard and Olivia had hoped their daughter would follow in their footsteps and go to law school. As it turned out, Denny had no interest in a four-year degree. Instead, she had attended community college and studied painting. Denny was a shy, sweet-natured woman who was impeccably organized, easy to talk to, and very creative. When her best friend got married, Denny offered to organize the wedding and the reception. She did such a good job that two other brides-to-be pulled her aside at the wedding and offered her a generous fee if she would plan their weddings as well.
Denny’s career was launched. She loved her job and it showed. Soon she had more business than she could handle and was on the verge of hiring an assistant and expanding, when she met David Grayson at a fundraiser for Children’s Hospital in Oakland.
David – tall, dark, and handsome – had swept Denny off her feet. The romance had been a whirlwind, culminating in a marriage proposal after just six months. At the beginning, David was attentive to Denny and friendly to Olivia and Richard. Olivia had never liked him, and because she couldn’t put her finger on the reason for her dislike, Richard teased her relentlessly, accusing her of not wanting to let her daughter go and of being too possessive.
David and Denny married within a year at the Marin Art and Garden Center, Denny pulling strings and calling in many favors to reserve the popular venue on such short notice. Olivia had been surprised when Denny had given up her business to be with David.
“Don’t be giving her ideas,” David said abruptly. “We don’t want Denny to think she can get back into party planning, do we? I need her at home with me.” David put his arm around Denny and pulled her close. Though he smiled, the gesture felt an act of physical domination. And there was no mistaking the flash of irritation in Denny’s eyes.
“I think Denny should be able to do whatever she wants,” Olivia said.
“Mom, don’t,” Denny said, her tone sharp like a slap across the face.
“Sorry,” Olivia said, putting her hands up in the air. “Forgive me. I’ve had a long day.”
“No worries,” David said. “We were just leaving anyway. Getting ready to say our goodbyes.”
“I should stay and help clean up,” Denny said. “I’ve got my car—”
“No, you’ll come with me. I’ll bring you to get your car in the morning,” David said.
“Okay,” Denny said.
“I’ll get our coats.” David nodded at Olivia and left them alone.
The minute he was out of earshot, Denny said, “Don’t say a word, Mom, okay? I know you think he’s bossy. But he’s stressed from his job.”
“It’s okay, honey. I wasn’t going to say anything.” Olivia had no business to criticize Denny’s marriage, did she? Especially in light of her own situation. “You did a beautiful job on my party. Thank you.” Olivia felt her eyes fill with unshed tears.
“Mom? Why are you crying?”
Olivia pulled Denny into a hug. “Because I’m so happy.” She lied easily. “And because I’m very proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? If it’s sunny maybe we could go for a walk.”
“Okay,” Olivia said. And with a wave, Denny was gone.
An hour later all of the other guests were gone too, save Richard’s business partner, Andrew Rincon, and another man who Olivia didn’t know. They sat with Richard in the living room, a bottle of Scotch on the table, talking in hushed whispers, oblivious to the fact that the party was over and everyone had left. Olivia took this opportunity to go into the bedroom and pack two suitcases for Richard. She took them into the hallway. That task completed, she called a locksmith, asking for an emergency change of locks.
“I can do it, but it’s not going to be cheap,” the man who answered the phone said.
“No problem. Can you be here in an hour?”
“See you then.”
After forwarding the video to Richard, Olivia sat in her room with the lights out, waiting for the last of the guests to leave. Once she and Richard were the only people in the house, Olivia made her way to the living room, where Richard stood with his back to her, a fresh glass of Scotch in his hand. She watched him swirl the ice around for a minute before he took a sip. She waited, letting her anger build along with her anticipation. When would he notice her? There she stood, reflected in the window right before his eyes. Yet he didn’t see her. Somehow this seemed a metaphor for their marriage, now that she knew it was over.
At last he looked up. From the squaring of his shoulders, she knew he’d finally noticed her reflection.
“Why did you threaten me with divorce?”
“I know.”
“Know what? I’m not in the mood for games, Liv. What are you playing at?”
“Now I know why you leave the room when you make certain phone calls, why you double-check if I’m near before you check your texts. God, I’ve been so naïve. I’m finished, Richard. Finished with you. Finished with our marriage.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Check your email.”
Olivia waited while Richard pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the email. She watched while the look in his eyes went from smug, to incredulity, to anger.
“Who’s the blonde, Richard?” Olivia didn’t bother to keep the disgust out of her voice.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve planting a camera in the studio. Jesus, Olivia. I didn’t realize you’d become so desperate.”
“I didn’t plant the video, Richard. How dare you! I’ve not set foot in that studio for ages, and you know it.”
“Olivia, listen—”
Richard moved close to Olivia. Instinctively she stepped away. “Stay away from me,” she hissed. “Who is she?”
“She’s my secretary.”
“Oh, my God. What a cliché.”
“She didn’t