Chapters (56)
- Cover
- PART ONE The Preparations for the Party
- Claudine
- Zara
- Henry
- Zara
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- PART TWO The Affair
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- PART THREE The Game
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Zara
- Claudine
- Zara
- Henry
- PART FOUR The Murders
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- PART FIVE The Process of Elimination
- Claudine
- Henry
- Henry
- Zara
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Zara
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Henry
- Claudine
- Zara
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“And finally, there will absolutely be no photos taken of Zara. To ensure this, I’m going to ask you all to please hand over your phones. Louisa will collect them and lock them away so no one is tempted. I have the code to the Lions’ safe. They will be returned to you at the end of the night.”
Again the group laughed. Again Claudine’s face remained serious. When they realized she meant what she had said, their laughter turned into grumbling protests. Henry spoke up.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Claudine.”
“And I do,” she said. “We should be wrapped by eight o’clock. That’s two hours. Surely you can all last that long without checking your social accounts or whatever else you might be doing besides your jobs this evening. If your phone is more important to you than getting the chance to be in the same room as one of the greatest entertainers of our time, then by all means you’re free to leave. Go now.”
Nobody moved.
“No?”
“We don’t even have phones,” said Captain Tiggleman proudly. Mrs. Tiggleman patted his knee.
Louisa moved through the group, collecting them. Once she had them all in a stack, she stood by Claudine’s side.
“What about yours?” Kevin asked. “Aren’t you going to turn over your phone?”
“Yeah, what about your phone?” Jerry said.
“I need my phone to monitor Zara’s Instagram and see if she posts about the house and tags us,” said Claudine. “That’s another goal of this evening. We don’t just want her to buy this house; we want her to brag about it. We want her to advertise. So no fawning, no fangirling. Be the charming, smart, successful Calhoun + Calhoun friends and representatives you are. Or, especially if you work for me, as always, fear my wrath.”
This time Claudine smiled. This time no one laughed.
Then the doorbell rang, a booming series of chimes.
“That’s her!” Claudine said. “She’s here. Quick, everyone to your stations. Let’s get some piano music, some hors d’oeuvres circulating. Guests, please mingle, act natural. Henry, come stand with me to greet her.”
Claudine could feel a growing internal power. Complete control of her destiny was within reach. The life she’d always wanted. The life she deserved.
She took Henry by the hand and led him to the front door.
“How do I look?” she asked him.
“Ready,” he said.