Free Masked Desires by Elizabeth Coldwell

saw Heather sitting on the chesterfield, smiling at me. Unlike me, she’d brought a change of clothes, looking neat and prim in a long-sleeved floral dress; no walk of shame for her this morning.
    I couldn’t pretend not to have recognised her, so I walked over. ‘Hi, Heather, thanks for putting on such a great event. We had a fantastic time last night.’
    ‘Eddie not with you?’ She rose from her seat, looking at me in a way that made me uncomfortable, though I couldn’t have said quite why.
    ‘Oh, he likes to sleep in. I’m just popping out for some breakfast.’ It wasn’t entirely a lie. ‘What about you?’
    ‘I’m waiting for Phillip to come down. I’ve just got a couple of things to sort out with the hotel manager, then we’re off to have our monthly brunch with Phillip’s mother in East Hampton.’ Despite the breeziness of her tone, something suggested she found these get-togethers a chore. ‘But I’m so pleased you enjoyed yourself. You know, what I love about events like this is the chance to catch up with people you haven’t seen in ages. In fact, would you believe I was talking to someone who knows you over dinner?’
    I didn’t have a clue who she was talking about, and she must have seen that on my face. ‘Really?’
    ‘Yes, an old friend of mine, Rebecca Haynes.’ She waited for the impact of the name to sink in, clearly relishing the fact she had me on the back foot. ‘She and I go way back. We were in business school together. She was really intrigued when I mentioned my stepbrother was dating one of her staff.’
    God, Eddie had told Heather I sold ads on the Reporter , hadn’t he? My stomach gave a sick lurch.
    ‘You know, Summer, it’s the damnedest thing. When I mentioned your name Heather said you hadn’t actually worked at the Reporter for over a month now. In fact, she told me that she had to let you go. Poor timekeeping, persistent failure to meet targets, bad attitude, Crazy Color in your hair – any of that sounding familiar?’
    OK, so I hadn’t exactly been the model employee, but Rebecca had clearly oversold my faults in a major way. I started to protest, but Heather cut me off. ‘So, does Eddie know you don’t actually work at the Reporter any more, or are you spinning him a line so he doesn’t realise what a failure you are? And could you be lying to him about anything else? I mean, Rebecca told me that you and some little friend of yours were always bragging about the rich, flashy guys you met in bars. You’re not maybe still meeting those guys behind my stepbrother’s back, by any chance?’
    ‘Oh, that’s total bull –’ I began, but a stocky, silver-haired man, looking rather ill at ease in a raspberry polo shirt and khaki chinos, had come hurrying over.
    ‘Is this girl bothering you, darling?’ he asked, casting an anxious glance from Heather to me.
    ‘No, Phillip, it’s fine,’ Heather assured him. ‘Eddie’s little tramp of a girlfriend was just leaving, weren’t you, Summer?’
    My hackles were up and I bristled with anger, but I knew better than to make any kind of scene, not when the girl at the front desk was looking our way, no doubt wondering whether she ought to be calling security. So I turned and headed for the door, holding my head as high as I could, not wanting Heather to see how her words had wounded me.
    Central Park West seemed eerily deserted as I walked down to the 72nd Street subway station; too early for the tourists to be out, too late for the night birds and last straggling clubbers. At least no one was around to see me, coat pulled tight over my beautiful, too-tight dress, trying to blink away the tears that stung my eyes.
    Somehow, I just knew that as soon as Heather had the chance, she’d confront Eddie, letting him know I was a liar, a loser, and most likely a slut too, even though I hadn’t dated anyone since Todd, and before him – well, I couldn’t even remember. What had Rebecca said, that Delia and I had