Sour Grapes (The Blue Plate Series) Read Online Free Page B

omelet. “So, Margaret, how are you really feeling about Nick marrying Lillie?”
    Piper and Faye exchange a conspiratorial look, and I wonder how many conversations they’ve had about this behind my back, how many jokes they’ve made at my expense.
    “I didn’t realize you all were aware of it.” It’s strange how my voice sounds neutral and steady when it feels as if a fist has punched my chest.
    “Oh, honey, of course we knew about the wedding,” Samma says with a laugh that’s as genuine as a cubic zirconia. “It happened months ago. As I understand it, Nick and Lillie have been waiting until after the Food Network filmed a special about the diner to take their honeymoon.”
    Monthsago?
    “We would’ve mentioned it, but we didn’t want to spoil the fun of you discovering it for yourself.” Faye smiles, but it’s anything but kind.
    “See, your reaction is priceless. You look like a kid who just found out Santa Claus isn’t real. I can only imagine what it looked like last night after you ran into Nick,” Piper says, pointing at my face, which clearly betrays the unaffected air I’m trying hard to project. She nonchalantly steals a piece of cantaloupe wrapped in prosciutto off my plate, as if we’ve casually been discussing if ankle boots are a fading trend or a classic style.
    My stomach clenches so tight I worry my breakfast may ride up my throat. I know what I’m feeling is shock, but I’m not sure if it’s Surprise, you’ve been punked, or Surprise, these women are even more vindictive than you suspected.
    I gulp down the remainder of the prosecco and toss my napkin onto the table. “I’m glad this situation amuses you all so much.” My tone is dry, stripped of all color, despite the anger bubbling up in me.
    “Sweetie, we know it hurts that Nick married a waitress, but for God’s sake you need to put this whole mess behind you,” Samma says, patting my hand. “Though it is unfortunate you ran into Nick the way you did.” Her expression is smug, and the undercurrent of superiority in her words is unmistakable. She’s enjoying watching me fall.
    Nick may come from the same background as us, but he’s never cared about wealth and the privileges it afforded. There’s always been something different about him—something deeper and utterly unattainable in its rawness—that puts him in a separate category. It’s these differences that make people like Samma, Piper, and Faye seethe with jealousy. While they’re stuck in predictable, cookie-cutter marriages that were entered into for status, ego, stability, Nick is living an adventure, something I’d once been a part of, if only for a little while.
    “Besides, it’s obvious Lillie’s trash and Nick enjoys slumming it,” Faye says. “You shouldn’t want to associate with someone like him even though I know you can’t help yourself.”
    I glance around the table at these women who have clearly never been my friends, merely appropriate social contacts my mother approves of, and the anger finally bursts out of me.
    I’m done. With all of it.
    “Oh, you want to talk about what we can’t help doing?” My voice is loud and unrecognizable, filled with something feral. “Let’s start with you, Faye, and your pathetic Botox addiction. I know you think you’re preserving your youth for inevitable husband number three , but the only thing you seem to be preserving is your total inability to fake anything. So how do you fake your orgasms? I wonder.” I focus my attention on Samma sitting beside me. “And, sweetie , Nick may have married a waitress, but are you really one to throw stones when you’re sleeping with the lawn guy? You should probably wash your clothes before Alan notices the grass stains.”
    Pushing up from the table, I gather my purse and begin to walk away when Piper calls behind me, “What about your portion of the check?”
    I stop and turn to face her. “Pull a hundred-dollar bill out of your wallet. You’ll