Chapter 15: Zara Says It

Zara sat on Birdie's porch step in yesterday's tennis whites, with her hair in a rubber band and no makeup at all.

She stood up when we came up the walk, and she looked at Ramsay first.

"I'm not here to be forgiven," she said. "I'm here to do it where it counts."

"Where is that?" Ramsay asked.

"Sunday brunch. The veranda. He holds court there every week, with half the membership at the tables."

Birdie came out of the kitchen with a canvas bag over her shoulder and the green ledger inside it.

"Then we're going to brunch," she said.

At eleven the veranda was full of linen and mimosas and the low sound of people congratulating one another.

Stanford Lorring sat at the center table in a blue blazer, with the gavel from last night laid beside his plate.

He saw us come up the steps, and his fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

"Zara," he said. "You're back early."

"I'm back on time."

She walked to the middle of the veranda and tapped a spoon against a water glass.

The conversations died one table at a time.

Her hand was shaking, and she put it flat against her thigh to hold it still.

"The night the pool house burned, my father laughed at our kitchen table," she said.

"I kept that sound for eighteen years. I'm putting it down now."

A woman at table five put her hand to her throat.

"Zara, sit down," Stanford said, pleasantly. "You're unwell."

Keep reading free with an account. Start Corrupting My Billionaire Boss's Heart from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.