“Yeah. Can I use your bathroom first?”
Kate pointed to a powder room off the hallway. Ivy splashed water on her face in the hopes that it would help her feel less out of sorts. She was pleased to see a little clutter in the bathroom, an open box of tampons sitting in the corner. She constructed a fake Us Weekly headline in her head: KATE WELLS BLEEDS—JUST LIKE US. Sunday’s New York Times was folded on the back of the toilet bowl with the crossword puzzle completely finished and written in pen.
The basement of Kate Wells’s house was a fully equipped soundproofed exercise studio with mirrors on three walls, a ballet barre, weights of every shape and size, a full set of kettlebells, and a closet filled with various other props.
“I know your specialty is circuit training, so I’m ready to do whatever you suggest.” Kate smiled. “Should I turn on some music? Anything you prefer? I have it all. Except Madonna. She kissed my ex-husband at a Grammy party and I can’t listen to any of her music without wanting to scream. And not in a good way. But, too much information. Right? Oh. Wait. Did you sign that confidentiality agreement I sent over to you? I need everyone to sign that. I have no filter, and you wouldn’t believe the things people have leaked to the press over the years. I had a maid who took photographs of all my bras and panties and sold them to the Daily Mail for a small fortune. Can you imagine someone paying for something like that? Or being the kind of person who gets paid for things like that? It’s disgusting.”
Ivy reached into her gym bag for the signed confidentiality agreement, her fingers brushing the folded check.
“Here you go.” Ivy handed her the piece of paper with her name scrawled on the bottom. She’d only skimmed it before signing it. Essentially the document forbade Ivy to say Kate Wells’s name in public unless she wanted the actress to be able to sue her for the very little amount of money she had, which right now was about $31,500.
Ivy didn’t know how to approach her next question, so she just said it. “You know I work at SoarBarre. Do you want SoarBarre-style training, you know, the kind where I yell at you?”
Kate Wells laughed her perfect laugh.
“No, no honey. If I wanted to be abused I’d read the comments section of my blog. Let’s just work out.”
Ivy was so relieved she wanted to hug Kate. “Let’s start with squats. Twenty-five. Grab the ten-pound kettlebell and lift it up to your chin as you’re coming back up. Give me ten push-ups in between sets and we’ll do three sets. Sound good?” Ivy couldn’t help but admire Kate’s picture-perfect body as she bent over to pick up the kettlebell. It was amazing what a healthy diet and good fitness could do to a body. She wondered if Kate had ever had plastic surgery. Nothing was too obvious. Her breasts were a perfectly normal size and even drooped a little the way breasts should after having a couple of kids. The thought of plastic surgery made Ivy think about Miranda Mills again.
“What you said earlier…about Sara Strong being willing to do anything for money. What did you mean? What do you think happened to Miranda Mills down there?” Ivy hoped she wasn’t pushing her luck with the question. Kate nodded to indicate she’d answer when she finished this set of exercises.
Once her push-ups were complete, the actress stretched her legs in front of her and bent over her thighs.
“Sara wanted The Workout to be bigger than any other fitness class out there. She wanted something that would make her rich and famous,” Kate said, her breath beginning to equalize. “But at the end of the day it was just an exercise class. She wanted to make it something grander. She needed to make her clients obsessed with it. And so she made The Workout something they absolutely had to have.”
What was Kate talking about?
“Mark my words, if they did a toxicology report on that poor model they’d find out she didn’t just have a heart attack. Sara was giving her clients speed. She put it in the tea. She put it in the clay. It kept them skinny and it kept them coming back. Those women were actually addicted to The Workout. But they didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
Ivy’s jaw dropped.
“How do you know?”
“I get my blood tested on a weekly basis to check my hormone levels and have my diet rebalanced. My doctor noticed something funny. There were ridiculous levels of amphetamines in my system. I knew right away. I’m also a little psychic. I don’t know if I told you that. I just have a more highly attuned sixth sense than most people.” Kate stood and grabbed her bottle of water from off one of the weight benches. “I confronted Sara about it. I told her I couldn’t work with her anymore. The problem is that she knew a lot about me. She was around when I was having problems in my marriage. That was before I had people sign off before they worked with me. We came to an agreement. We’d part ways; neither of us would air the other’s dirty laundry. But I knew this would happen one of these days. I knew it would go too far and someone would get hurt.”
Ivy didn’t know what to say. It made sense. Those women were amped up out of their minds when she saw them down at the retreat. She’d assumed it was by choice, but maybe not. And Miranda Mills’s heart attack most definitely could have been caused by having drugs in her system when she went under the knife. Fuck! That meant Janey had been given speed too.
She had to come clean and tell Janey what she knew.
“Do you think Miranda’s family knows she took something before she had the surgery? Do you think it could make a difference?” Ivy asked Kate, who was working on her second set of squats, diligently pulling the kettlebell up to tap her dimpled chin with each movement.
Kate appeared lost in thought. “I hope someone who knew what was really happening called the doctors and tipped them off,” Kate said.
Ivy nodded. “Me too.”
As quickly as she’d begun discussing the topic, Kate Wells shut down. “I can’t talk about it anymore,” she said in a clipped tone. “It’s just too sad.”
“Of course,” Ivy said carefully, taken aback by the shift in her mood. “So, next up we’re going to move on to plank…Do you mind if I run up to the powder room again? I have the tiniest bladder.” Kate shook her head as she steadied her arms and legs beneath her in the most perfect plank position Ivy had ever seen.
Ivy walked up the stairs and into the backyard, where the only people who would hear her were Kate’s gardeners.
Janey’s phone just kept going to voicemail.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX