It’s Always the Husband: the Sunday Times bestselling thriller for fans of THE MARRIAGE PACT. Michele Campbell
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“Yeah, that’s the point.”
“I’m sure if we talked to Kate . . .”
“Oh, I tried. She just acted all vague and sweet, like she didn’t understand what my problem was. Bullshit. She knew exactly what she was doing. She thinks the rules don’t apply to her, and the fact is, they don’t. She’s Kate Eastman, you know, like Eastman Commons? Like President Eastman?”
“President – who?”
“Her grandfather or something, or maybe great-grandfather, was president of the college. Her father’s a trustee. Their name is on buildings, you catch my drift?”
“She isn’t here now, is she?” Aubrey glanced around in alarm, worried about being overheard, and getting off on the wrong foot with this exalted personage.
“Don’t worry,” Jenny said. “She ran off when I got in her face about the room assignment. But I’ll shut up about that now. You must want to unpack.”
“I don’t mind, really. I’m just excited to finally meet you.”
“Aw, sweet,” Jenny said, and Aubrey heard a note of condescension in her voice. But she was probably being paranoid.
The double turned out to be a bright, spacious room with dormered windows and a skylight. Aubrey loved it but didn’t say so, lest she appear uncool. Jenny was being so welcoming, and a misstep from Aubrey might turn her off. The double had two of everything – matching twin beds, two wooden desks with chairs, two bookshelves, two modular wardrobes. Jenny had taken the side of the room with the nook for the bed and slightly more space. (Aubrey almost said something about that; by her own logic, shouldn’t Jenny have waited? But she held her tongue. Don’t rock the boat.) Jenny’s bed was made up with a lavender and white polka-dot comforter and piles of pillows in varying shades of lavender and purple. A bulletin board hung over the bed, crammed with colorful photos of Jenny with her friends and family. Over the desk, there was a second bulletin board, this one meticulously laid out with the orientation schedule and class list, all neatly highlighted in pink. The desk lamp had a shade that exactly matched the comforter cover, and under the bed and on top of the armoire, there were a bunch of cute plastic storage units – also lavender – that looked like they’d been hand-selected by an expensive decorator.
“Your stuff is so pretty,” Aubrey said, taken aback.
It had never occurred to her how rich people would be here. Even the townie girl was rich. Every dollar of Aubrey’s work-study money was earmarked for tuition. She’d better get a second job ASAP, if she wanted to keep up with these people.
Jenny’s glance flickered over Aubrey’s ratty jeans and old Chuck Taylors, and the army surplus duffel on the floor.
“Hey, you know, if there’s anything you forgot to bring, you should let me know, because we have a lot of extra stuff at the store,” Jenny said.
She wasn’t trying to be unkind, but the pity in her voice was palpable. Despite herself, Aubrey entertained Jenny’s offer for a second. The frayed sheets crumpled up in the bottom of her duffel were pretty awful. She’d love some new ones, and a few cute plastic storage units, too. But she wasn’t a charity case.
“No thanks, I’m good,” Aubrey said.
“Oh, hey, I meant as a loan. Seriously, you’d be doing my parents a favor. The room décor items sit around gathering dust and taking up space. Customers don’t come in for them because it’s mainly a hardware store.”
“Thank you, that’s nice of you, but I’m fine. I’m not into material things.”
That was a lie, and a pretty obvious one, but Jenny had the sense to let it go. She helped Aubrey unpack her stuff, which didn’t take long. Orientation festivities officially kicked off in a couple of hours with a band and a barbecue on the Quad. In the meantime they walked around campus checking people out, went to the bookstore (where Jenny bought a Carlisle sleepshirt with their class year on it that she charged to her account, the concept of the bookstore charge account coming as a revelation to Aubrey), and got iced coffees at a perfect, grungy café on College Street called Hemingway’s that looked and smelled exactly how Aubrey imagined a café should. They headed back to the Quad just as the barbecue was starting. The scent of charcoal and burgers floated on the velvety late-summer air, along with an occasional whiff of pot. A band played a cover of “Peace, Love and Understanding.” Kids danced, and laughed, and hugged, and lounged on the grass. A bunch of cute guys with no shirts tossed a Frisbee, egging on a goofy yellow Lab that kept jumping up and trying to snatch the thing in midair.
Every freshman dorm had staked out its own patch of ground, where it set up blankets and camp chairs. Jenny and Aubrey made a beeline for the Whipple banner.
“There’s Kate,” Jenny said, pointing.
A bunch of guys had gathered around a petite girl in sky-high platform heels standing under the Whipple sign. Aubrey only semi-recognized Kate from the picture. The image she’d carried in her mind all summer was of a snooty country-club brat, but Kate in the flesh was more hippie princess, with long flaxen hair and a ruby in her belly button. She had a wide smile and a throaty rich-girl voice that caught Aubrey’s ear as they approached. When she saw Jenny and Aubrey, she immediately turned her back on her admirers and walked straight toward them.
“The roomies return!” Kate screamed joyously, holding out her arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you two! Gimme some sugar, my sisters!”
Kate stumbled over her platforms, practically falling into Aubrey’s embrace. She was tiny, with delicate bones, and she smelled of herbal shampoo, and reefer. Aubrey put her back on her feet.
“C’mere, you,” Kate said, and hugged Jenny, too.
“My God, you’re wasted,” Jenny said, and giggled.
“Too true,” Kate said with a laugh, righting herself. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright. “It’s college! I am out from under the watchful eye of my keepers, and ready to party with my bestest girlfriends. They say your freshman roommates become your best friends for life. So – shall we?”
Kate crooked her arms. Jenny took one, though only after a noticeable hesitation; but Aubrey laughed out loud with sheer happiness as she grabbed the other. In that moment, Carlisle opened up to her like a flower. Kate gave off waves of light and energy. Colors seemed brighter and the air felt softer in her company. Most of all, arm in arm with Kate, Aubrey felt like she belonged, like she was free to live the life she’d imagined. No wonder she’d been such a loner in high school. She’d known somehow that this amazing girl was out there, waiting for her, and she hadn’t settled for less. Kate was the friend she’d been waiting for her whole life.
Jenny, you are literally a buzz kill,” Kate said, over the whir of an electric fan. She paused with the match an inch away from the tip of the joint.
It was Saturday night, and classes started Monday morning. The three of them were draped across the new furniture that overflowed the cramped living room of suite 402. Jenny’s father and brother had taken away the smelly couch and moved in a matching love seat and armchair upholstered in hot-pink suede. Kate immediately pronounced the new stuff “bourgeois,” yet proceeded to lounge on it all afternoon in her cami-pajamas,