Three days later, Althea received a text on her new number.
Georgina: We need to talk. For Holt's sake. Meet me at Le Coucou. 2 PM.
Althea stared at the screen. She knew she shouldn't go. But the mention of Holt-even though she was trying to sever that cord-still tugged at her. And she needed to make sure the divorce papers actually reached Easton. She didn't trust him to have opened the folder she left.
Le Coucou was crowded with the lunch rush of Manhattan's elite. Georgina was seated at a prime window table, a tiered tray of pastries in front of her. She was snapping photos of a macaron for her Instagram story.
Althea walked in. She was wearing dark jeans, a crisp white button-down, and loafers. No makeup. Her hair was down, loose and wavy.
Georgina looked up, phone poised. Her eyes widened slightly, perhaps surprised that Althea didn't look like a wreck.
"Althea! Darling!" Georgina stood up to offer a cheek kiss, but Althea sat down, ignoring the gesture.
"Cut the act, Georgina," Althea said. "What do you want?"
Georgina sat back down, her smile turning brittle. "You look... tired. Easton is worried sick, you know. He thinks you're having a breakdown."
"I'm sure he does." Althea reached into her tote bag. She pulled out a thick manila envelope. "Give this to him."
Georgina eyed the envelope. "What is it? A love letter? Begging to come back?"
"It's the divorce agreement. The original copy. I doubt he read the one I left."
Georgina's eyes lit up. A genuine, malicious spark. She reached out and took the envelope, her manicured nails tapping against the paper.
"You're really doing it," she whispered. "You're handing him to me."
"He was never mine, was he?" Althea signaled the waiter for an iced water. "You've been working on this since the day you 'accidentally' spilled coffee on him in the lobby."
Georgina laughed. She dropped the pretense. She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hiss. "You were always so boring, Althea. So domestic. Easton needs a partner, a power player. Not a glorified housekeeper. I did you a favor. Now you can go back to... whatever trailer park you crawled out of."
Althea felt a bubble of laughter rise in her chest. It was absurd. If only Georgina knew.
"Make sure he signs it," Althea said, standing up. "And Georgina? Be careful what you wish for. He's a lot of work."
She walked out.
Georgina watched her go. Once Althea was out the door, Georgina opened the envelope. She scanned the document. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the "retain own assets" clause.
No money? Georgina thought. That won't do. If she leaves with nothing, Easton might feel guilty. He might pity her. That pity could turn into lingering affection.
Georgina pulled a pen from her Hermes bag. She found the page detailing the financial settlement. With a steady hand, she crossed out a line and scribbled in the margin: Demand: $10 million lump sum for emotional distress & a gag order.
She smiled. Easton would be furious. He would see this not as a demand, but as blackmail. He would hate Althea for it.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Easton.
"Easton?" she sobbed, her voice breaking perfectly. "I just saw her. She was horrible. She... she said the first agreement was a trick. She gave me this new one and threatened to go to the press with stories about you if you don't pay her ten million dollars."
