“Sorry, guys. I should have asked for your help before I said that,” I said as I clutched the binder to my chest. I looked to Jess, who shifted uncomfortably as she watched Sharon across the room. She hid it well, usually, but I knew Sharon made her feel unworthy. She only played the game for Summer’s sake.

I gave her a sympathetic look, and she took a swig of her wine. “Sure. I’m game to help. I think my mom is still friends with some carnies from the commune.”

Heather appeared in the doorway, hands clasped in front of her chest. She wore a long red jumpsuit with lace sleeves. “Ladies, thank you so much for coming. It means a great deal that you all took time out of your busy schedules to be here to support me.” Her gaze briefly stopped on Jess, eyes flicking down to her now-stained T-shirt before she smiled again. “Now, if you will all grab your plates and follow me into the formal living room, we have a fantastic program for you.”

Jess, Melissa, and I loitered around the food under the guise of filling our plates, especially when we saw a projector click on in the next room.

“It feels really weird to be together without Liz,” I said as I watched the other women obediently file into the “formal living room.”

“I know. She never responded to my text,” Jess said with a frown.

“I’m really worried about her,” I said. “Do you think we should reach out again?”

“I think—” Melissa quickly stopped as Heather appeared in the doorway. “You should go with the larger-sized air fryer,” she finished smoothly. It wasn’t hard to see how she was the youngest senior vice president at her company. Her ability to maintain her composure in the face of stress was something foreign to me, as evidenced by my blabbering about locust trees at urgent care.

“Hurry up, ladies. We paused everything so you could join us,” Heather said with a smile, a murderous look in her eyes. In her arms was her doodle dog, a white-and-tan fluffy little thing wearing a pale blue collar.

Jess patted the dog—Astrid. I remembered when Heather had first gotten him, she’d paraded him around the neighborhood in a tartan leash and collar. We were in our front yard and did the obligatory gushing (me) and real excitement (the kids).

Jack held out a hand and asked, “What is it?”

Heather replied, “A Cavapoo, of course. Bred from a champion Cavalier King Charles spaniel and Best in Show toy poodle.” She then leaned over to me. “Cost far too much and the waitlist was two years long, but the best puppies come to those who wait.”