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if Cole cares about Volvos and tennis, Jenny. But I’m pretty sure he cares about you.”
    “Do not try to turn my airplane pep talk around on me,” Jenny said, her voice jagged. “This is totally different.”
    “If you say so,” I said, unconvinced. “But you had some pretty good advice. I’m just saying.”
    Jenny blew out a deep breath. “What about you and James?” she asked, changing the subject. “You looked a lot happier in the pool earlier. Are you all better?”
    I nodded at her. “He asked me to move to California with him.”
    “I knew it,” she cried. “I knew it! I could tell just by looking at him. You’re gonna live happily ever after.”
    “I don’t know about that,” I said.
    “I do.” She looked at me levelly. “I know it’s gonna happen.”
    “Jenny, I see the way Cole is with you. I think he’s in love with you.” I hesitated to say it because I didn’t want to be wrong and make it worse. Still, I’d seen the way he looked at her. I believed there were real feelings there.
    “I thought he was, too,” she said, returning to her reflection and fluffing her hair. “But it must have just been that thing with his balls. I do it exactly the way he likes.”
    She smiled at me. “I’m not even mad at him, though. He’s great. I’m mad at me . I think I got too inspired by my own pep talk. I’m the one who started hoping—and that was a dumb fucking move. If I hadn’t hoped, I’d be psyched that I was getting a South End condo and a Range Rover. Now all I’m doing is crying.” She blew her nose loudly.
    “You should give him a chance,” I said. “See what he has to say for himself.”
    “I’ll think about it,” she said and gave her hair one final fluff. “In the meantime, I need some liquid courage to keep up with these people. Rich people sure drink a lot, huh?”
----
    M uch to my chagrin , we passed Celia Preston on our way back to the restaurant. “May I have a word with you, Audrey?” she asked. She looked at Jenny. “Alone?”
    “Of course, Mrs. Preston,” I mumbled. Jenny shot me a worried look but obediently headed back to the table; Celia was not someone you said no to. “What can I do for you?”
    “You could start by doing what I asked,” Celia said tightly. “And stop digging your acrylic claws further into my son.”
    “Excuse me?” I asked.
    “You heard me. We agreed that you would break up with James after this trip. I want to make sure you keep your part of the bargain.”
    “Excuse me,” I said again. “I never agreed to break up with James after this. You asked me to. I said I would think about it. You offered to bribe me. I said I would think about it. I promised nothing.”
    “You’re going to promise me now,” she said, her voice dangerous.
    “No. I’m not.” I shook my head. “I’m not going to do that, Mrs. Preston, even though that’s not what you want to hear.”
    She grabbed my wrist painfully. “You listen to me. I told you before—I know you have feelings for my son. You need to do what’s right for him . Don’t be selfish, Audrey. Don’t ruin his life by dragging him down with you.”
    “Just because I’m not wealthy like you doesn’t make me a bad person,” I said. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
    “Being poor doesn’t make you a bad person,” Mrs. Preston said. “Being a hooker does.”
    I felt as if she’d punched me in the gut. Inside, I was reeling. Outside, I tried to appear unruffled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. “Are you feeling well?”
    “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Celia let go of my wrist and I rubbed it; she had a surprisingly strong grip. She studied my face. “I know all about you and your little friend in there,” she said, motioning toward Jenny. “Don’t look so surprised, Audrey—you’re not the first whore I’ve had to keep away from my sons.”
    “What?” I asked, my voice coming out small.
    “Once I