I’m halfway to the front door when I hear high-pitched yelling on the other side. The front door opens, and a tall blonde woman rushes inside, her heels clicking on the floor. Our security guard runs in after her.
“I told her to wait outside, Mrs. Rossi,” he says. “She wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s all right, Emilio.” I nod and return my gaze to Simona Albano, formerly Rossi.
I have seen her numerous times at different social gatherings. It was impossible to miss her. Each time, I felt this piercing pain in the middle of my stomach. I envied her so much. The last time I saw her was six months ago, and since then, her lips have doubled in size, her boobs are bigger, and she’s lost at least ten pounds. She looks like a clothes hanger for her expensive, beige-with-black-polka-dots dress.
Standi
