The drink arrived, and she downed half of it in one long swallow. As the vodka soothed her tension, relaxed her muscles, and muddled her thoughts, she considered a relationship with Violet Turnmill. Maybe she and the pretty girl could have something real? Nat would be close to Gabe in a different way. She would have a role in his life as Violet’s partner. They’d spend weekends at the Hamptons house, eating breakfast together, swimming in the pool. At night, they’d have dinner, drink wine, talk and laugh. Maybe that would be enough?

But it wouldn’t be. Because at the end of that perfect day, Gabe would go to bed with Celeste, and it would tear Nat apart.

Violet was not the answer. Nat had to fix her relationship with Gabe. They had made a deal: she would stay away from Violet and he would open the lines of communication between them. Finishing her drink and ordering another, she decided to put their agreement to the test. It had been only a few hours since she left him, but she sent him a text.

Made it back to the city

She waited for his response. He’d be with his family now. Celeste would be home, they’d be discussing the disastrous party over a bottle of wine. Gabe preferred Scotch, though. Did his wife drink spirits with him like Nat had? Nat had never really liked Scotch, but she’d liked sharing it with him. Violet would be locked in her room, thinking about Natalie, maybe even touching herself as she did. The thought gave Nat a perverse thrill.

If Gabe planned on honoring their deal, he’d have his phone on hand. It would be safe in his pocket, away from Celeste’s prying eyes. He’d have it set on vibrate so he’d know when she summoned him but wouldn’t alert his wife. He’d have to excuse himself—go to the bathroom, or for a walk or a drive. And then he’d write back.

I’m glad you’re home safe.

It was good to see you.

See you Monday!

She smirked as she took a sip of her second drink. He wouldn’t mean it, of course, but he would say something along those lines. Gabe had to appease her, had to play along, or she would take his daughter away from him. She’d arrange to meet the girl in the city, where they’d talk, flirt, maybe even more. Gabe would never risk it. Nat had the power now.

But when the second drink was gone, and Gabe still hadn’t replied, she felt a combination of panic and anger. He was breaking their deal, going back on his promise. Why was she surprised? He was a liar and an adulterer and a heartless piece of shit. Her inhibitions lowered by the alcohol, she texted him again.

We had an agreement

Answer me, or I’ll text Violet

She gave him a chance to respond as she paid the bill and left a generous tip. She didn’t even look at her phone until she was outside on the sidewalk. When she did, there was a text. But it wasn’t from Gabe. It was from Violet.