A month ago, we three were out together and a little drunk, and I was so mad at Elliott that I had told them about the missing stove money. Apparently, they were so horrified they had discussed it with my men.

Reggie continued, “Whatever is going on with Griffin, he has been respectful. I think we all have our guesses on that. Your brother has been pretty vocal. He has very interesting opinions.” The way Reggie said that made me shudder.

As she was leaving, my phone buzzed. It was Elliott. He was obviously very drunk.

“You really piss me off, Bailey. You should have more understanding about my back. What the fuck? Why are you on your little high horse? I had an opinion. You are not supposed to eavesdrop on my conversations. When the fuck did you get so suspicious? You’re behaving like one of those bitches you hang out with. And I thought you were fucking Griffin.” I hung up the phone and hoped they hadn’t overheard Elliott. It was not his finest hour. One minute I was “darling” and the next minute I was “bitch.” Talk about emotional whiplash.

“Then there’s … those conversations.” Reggie pointed to my phone with her hand on the door. “But me, I say nothing. I am the voice of restraint.”

I laughed for the first time all evening. “Girls, y’all are a lot of things, but not so much restrained. What have you been doing the last six hours?”

“Au contraire. We kept our opinions mostly to ourselves for the whole nine months you’ve been married. Reggie, don’t you agree?” Elle said. We all embraced.

Well into the night, I felt angry. I felt naïve. I felt stupid. Really stupid. I also knew that I had never seen a marriage up close. I never went over to friends’ houses, and I had never had two parents. But I always came back to my strong suit. I was supposed to have vision. Why hadn’t I seen this coming?

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

“You may not want to look at the papers this morning,” Elle said. We were both getting ready to leave. I needed to go by the apartment to gather some things and then go to the restaurant. I wanted Lea to open the account information for me.

“What do you mean?” I asked her, and she handed me the paper.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Emblazoned on one of the pages in the tabloids was a picture of Elliott and me in his office yesterday yelling with the headline: “Kitchen Wars—Sparks Fly Between the Genius and His Muse. Is the Magic Over?” And then there was a picture of Elliott and a blonde. “I’ve got to get to the restaurant before Elliott does.”

“Don’t do something stupid, Bailey.” Elle hugged my neck.