Grafton spent the rest of the day staring at his phone. He typed out text messages and deleted them. I didn't mean it. You took it out of context. Are we still on for Sunday brunch?

He couldn't hit send. The memory of Isadora's cold eyes in the café haunted him.

That night, he drove to her apartment. He parked his Porsche illegally in front of the fire hydrant and waited.

At 9:00 PM, Isadora came out the front door carrying a bag of recycling. She was wearing sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. She looked tired.

Grafton jumped out of the car. "Isadora!"

Isadora froze. She looked at him, then at the recycling bin. She sighed, a sound of pure exhaustion. She walked over, dumped the glass bottles-they crashed loudly-and turned to go back inside.

"Isadora, please," Grafton said, blocking her path to the door. "Can we just talk? Like normal people?"

"We aren't normal people anymore, Grafton," Isadora said. She wrapped her arms around herself against the night chill.

"Look," Grafton said, running a hand through his hair. "At the club... I didn't ignore you on purpose. Bella just got back from Paris, and she's insecure, okay? She needs a lot of reassurance."

"It doesn't matter," Isadora said.

"It does matter!" Grafton's voice rose. "We've been friends for twenty years. You can't just throw that away because I have a fiancée."

Isadora looked up at him. The streetlamp cast harsh shadows on his face. He looked like a petulant child who had lost his favorite toy.

"I heard you," Isadora said softly.

Grafton stopped. "What?"

"In the bathroom," Isadora said. "I heard you talking to Topher. You said I was a burden. You said I was like a child."

all the color drained from Grafton's face. "Isadora... I..."

"Did you say it?"

"It was just guy talk!" Grafton pleaded, stepping closer. "I was just trying to... you know, look cool in front of the guys. I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did," Isadora said. "And you were right. I was dependent on you. I built my whole world around you. And that was my mistake."

"No," Grafton said, reaching for her. "No, Izzy. I take it back. I need you. You keep me grounded."

Isadora took a step back, dodging his hand. "You don't need a friend, Grafton. You need a fan. And I resigned."

"I am serious," Isadora said. "I wish you and Bella the best. Goodbye."

She turned and swiped her fob at the door. The lock buzzed. She pulled the heavy glass door open and slipped inside.

"Isadora!" Grafton slammed his hand against the glass.

Isadora didn't turn around. She walked to the elevator and pressed the button.

Grafton stood on the sidewalk, watching her disappear. He felt a surge of anger. How dare she? After everything he did for her?

He punched the glass again, harder this time. The doorman inside glared at him.

Grafton stormed back to his car. His phone rang. It was Bella.

"Hey, baby," Bella cooed. "Where are you?"

"I'm... out," Grafton said, his voice shaking with rage. "Isadora is being crazy. She's cutting me off."

"Oh no," Bella said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. "That's terrible. She's probably just jealous. Listen, why don't we invite her to dinner tomorrow? At Le Bernardin. My treat. I'll apologize to her, smooth everything over. If she sees we're trying, she'll come around."

Grafton gripped the steering wheel. It was a lifeline. "You think so?"

"I know so," Bella said. "She just needs to see that I'm not the enemy."

"Okay," Grafton said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Okay. Let's do that."

He hung up, feeling better. A dinner. A nice, expensive dinner. That fixed everything.

In her penthouse uptown, Bella set her phone down on her vanity. She looked at her reflection. She applied a coat of dark red lipstick.

She smiled. It was a shark's smile.

"Let's see how much she loves you after tomorrow," Bella whispered to the mirror.

Le Bernardin was quiet, smelling of sea salt and old money. Isadora sat at the table, feeling like she was wearing a costume. She had worn her office clothes-a simple black pencil skirt and a white blouse-because she didn't want to go home and change. She didn't want to be here at all.

Grafton had texted Zoe, threatening to show up at Zoe's workplace if Isadora didn't come to this "peace offering" dinner. Isadora had come to protect Zoe, not to forgive Grafton.

Bella was wearing a red dress that probably cost more than Isadora's college tuition. She was beaming.

"Isadora, try the scallop," Bella said, placing a piece on Isadora's plate with silver tongs. "It's divine."

"I'm not hungry," Isadora said.

"Oh, come on," Grafton said, pouring wine. "Don't be difficult, Izzy. Bella is trying."

Isadora looked at Grafton. He looked desperate for everything to be fine. He wanted the illusion of peace so he wouldn't have to feel guilty.

"I see you aren't wearing any jewelry," Bella said, touching the diamond bracelet on her own wrist. "Did you lose that little heart necklace you always wore?"

"I gave it back," Isadora said, staring at Grafton.

Grafton flinched. He took a large gulp of wine.

"Well," Bella said, "I suppose it's better not to wear things that don't belong to you."

Isadora put her fork down. It clattered against the china. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Isadora, relax," Grafton warned.

"I need to powder my nose," Bella said, standing up. She looked at Isadora. "Join me? We can talk girl-to-girl."

Grafton kicked Isadora lightly under the table. "Go. Please."

Isadora stood up. She followed Bella toward the restrooms.

The corridor leading to the bathrooms was long, lined with polished wood and a short flight of three marble steps. It was empty.

Bella stopped at the top of the steps. She turned around. The smile was gone. Her face was hard, ugly.

"You think you're clever," Bella hissed. "Giving the necklace back? Playing hard to get? It won't work."

"I'm not playing anything," Isadora said tiredly. "I just want to be left alone."

"You're a backup plan," Bella said, stepping closer. "You're the safety net he keeps around in case he gets bored. It's pathetic."

"If you're so secure, Bella, why are you threatened by a backup?" Isadora asked.

Bella's eyes narrowed. She looked over Isadora's shoulder. She saw Grafton entering the corridor, his phone to his ear.

Bella grabbed Isadora's wrist. Her nails dug in deep.

"Don't touch me!" Isadora pulled back instinctively.

"Ahhh!" Bella screamed.

She threw herself backward. It was theatrical, violent. She let her body go limp and tumbled down the three marble steps.

She hit the bottom with a thud and rolled onto her side, clutching her ankle.

"Isadora! No!" Bella shrieked.

Grafton dropped his phone. He sprinted down the hall.

"Bella!"

He slid to his knees beside her. Bella was sobbing, tears instantly flowing.

"She pushed me," Bella cried, pointing a shaking finger at Isadora. "I told her she was hurting you, and she just... she shoved me!"

Grafton looked up. His eyes were wild with fury.

Isadora stood at the top of the stairs, her hand still raised from where she had pulled it away from Bella's grip. To anyone watching, it looked exactly like the follow-through of a push.

"Isadora!" Grafton roared. "Are you insane?"

"I didn't push her!" Isadora shouted, her voice trembling. "She grabbed me! She threw herself down!"

"I saw you!" Grafton yelled, standing up. He marched up the steps and got in Isadora's face. "I saw you standing over her! How could you be so jealous? So vicious?"

"Grafton, use your brain," Isadora pleaded. "Why would I push her?"

"Because you can't stand that I chose her!" Grafton spat the words. "God, you are ugly when you're like this."

The restaurant manager and two waiters came running. Diners were standing up, craning their necks.

"Get her out of here," Grafton said to the manager, pointing at Isadora. "She assaulted my fiancée."

Isadora felt the blood drain from her face. She looked at Bella. Bella was peeking through her fingers, a small, triumphant smirk on her lips.

Isadora was alone. Surrounded by enemies.