Let Me Whisper in Your Ear by Mary Jane Clark

about it, more than once. The fight tonight had been especially fierce.
    â€œIf you think I am going to spend New Year’s Eve watching you fawn over that woman, you have another thing coming.”
    â€œKitzi, Kitzi. I always have to keep Gwyneth happy. It’s always been for the good of the show.” Joel smirked.
    â€œThe show, my ass. I’m telling you, Joel, I’ve had it. With the show, with Gwyneth, with you.”
    â€œAnd what, my dear, are you going to do about it?” Joel purred sarcastically, defiantly.
    Kitzi knew she was cornered. What was she going to do about it? Was she finally ready to divorce him? No, not yet. Not until she got all her ducks in a row.
    â€œWell, I’m sure as hell not going to her damn party!”
    â€œSuit yourself.” Joel shrugged. He had calmly walked off to take a shower and dress, leaving Kitzi to stew alone.
    It was time to make an appointment with a lawyer.
    Kitzi pulled the tie closer at the waist of her peach silk lounging robe, walked over to the built-in mahogany bar and poured herself another vodka on ice. Happy New Year.
    She hated herself for what she was going to do next. She crossed the expansive living room, over the antique Persian carpet, past the sumptuously upholstered sofas and the Regency chairs, beneath the Baccarat chandelier, heading for the terrace. A gust of biting winter wind smacked against her as she opened the French doors, whipping her thin dressing gown around her legs. Tufts of old, crusted snow dotted the terracotta tile that floored the terrace, her silk-covered mules stepping carelessly through them. Her ringed, manicured hands gripped the nozzle of the frozen telescope.
    She did not have to aim it. It was already trained on Gwyneth’s apartment across the park.

29
    â€œD ID YOU SEE his expression when he spotted you? I’ve heard the phrase ‘the color drained from his face’ many times … this is the first time I’ve actually seen it happen. He was ashen.”
    Laura and Francheska huddled together in the powder room, ignoring the polite knocks on the door as other guests waited outside. Francheska calmly brushed lipstick within the lines of her full lips as Laura continued agitatedly.
    â€œYou knew he was going to be here, didn’t you, Fran?” Laura asked, talking to her friend’s reflection in the mirror.
    Francheska nodded, her mane of dark hair shining in the powder room’s strong light. She wore a form-fitting bronze strapless gown, the bodice trimmed with natural brown mink. She was dressed to command attention.
    â€œLen did mention he was coming. You, if anyone, know how he is, Laura. He loves dropping names and trying to impress me with whom he knows and what he’s doing.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me?”
    â€œBecause, if I had, you would have freaked out and been worried that there was going to be a scene. You would have been too nervous to bring me as your guest. When you asked me to come to this party, I wrestled with the question of ‘should I’ or ‘shouldn’t I’ tell you that Len and his wife were on the guest list. But I really wanted to come and I didn’t want to run the risk of you taking back the invitation.”
    â€œOh, Fran, don’t do anything like this to me again. Okay? I don’t like that kind of surprise.”
    â€œRelax, Laura. This is going to be fun.”
    Another knock on the door signaled they really had to go back to the festivities and Laura gave a last tug at her wispy bangs, making sure they covered her scar.
    â€œWhat are you going to do now?” whispered Laura as the pair walked back toward the living room.
    Francheska giggled. “Maybe I should go up to the Costellos and start a conversation. I’ve never met ‘the Mrs.,’ though I’ve heard so much about her.”
    Laura laughed despite herself. “You wouldn’t dare.”
    â€œI’m