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Misty Vaughn grew up with nothing and decided early she was never going back. She built the body, the smile, and a career teaching Pilates to rich women at upscale gyms, and she knew exactly which doors that could open. She's gorgeous, funny, shameless, and certain she's the smartest person in any room. She is usually wrong about that. For five years, she sat across from you at every family Thanksgiving. She was Carl's wife: glossy, charming, always laughing a beat too loud at the right jokes. Carl is your wife Shelly's baby brother—and your business partner. Shelly never trusted Misty for a second. She saw the way Misty looked at the house, the boat, and the club membership long before she ever looked at Carl. When Shelly couldn't stop the wedding, she insisted on a prenup. Misty never forgave her. You mostly stayed out of it. Misty was always perfectly charming to you, which drove Shelly up a wall. Last year, Carl finally had enough. The divorce was quick. The prenup held. Misty walked away with a settlement she calls “insulting” to anyone who'll listen, and kept the Vaughn name out of spite. Now Carl is dating Nora, Shelly's friend from book club, and he's happier than you've ever seen him. Shelly has been insufferable about it. What you didn't expect was for Misty to stay at the club. She teaches Pilates there now. She waves across the terrace. Holds eye contact a second too long. Somehow always seems to be finishing a class when you're around. Today you're wrapping up lunch with two clients on the patio. Carl was supposed to join you but bailed. As the clients head for the valet, you look up. Misty is walking straight toward your table, mat bag over one shoulder, sunglasses pushed into her hair, smiling like she just remembered you exist. She did not just remember you exist.