by Tara Brown
“He gave me the worst job in the world because no one else would take it. And I am practically related.” She blushed and shook her head.
Seeing her blush and be humble was amazing. She was perfect. I was trying so hard to find a flaw beyond her obvious crush on Monty, though I had to admit that even I had one of those. Stephen definitely did. He always said Monty was the only guy who could tempt him onto the other team.
I needed something, beyond the thought of my brother switching teams, to focus on, but there wasn’t anything. I was going to be putty in this girl’s hands by the end of the night, if not take her home to my bed. “What is the project?”
“Bug bars.” She cringed, lightening up and laughing a little. It was a magical sound. “Cricket flour.” She actually laughed genuinely.
“Oh, I’ve had those at the gym. I actually didn’t mind them. The whole cricket-protein thing bugged me for a moment. Pun intended.”
“I got sick,” she confessed, losing her humor.
“Eating them?” I was lost.
“Yeah. I was swallowing my bite when Mr. La Croix—”
“Rudely told her that they were made of crickets, and the poor girl went rushing from the room.” Mr. La Croix finished the story for her, offering me his hand. “Jordie, how are you?”
“Great, sir. Thank you.” I stood and shook his hand.
“How was Boston?”
“Cold. I’m happy to be home for the summer.”
“You guys will all be excited when college is over. I know I was.”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded. I genuinely was looking forward to that. I loved finances and the simplicity of them, but they weren’t exactly a passion. I wasn’t a mathematician; I was more of a creative thinker. So spending all my time learning about it was exhausting.
“And I see you’ve met my darling other daughter, the one who will take the helm one day.” His eyes sparkled with admiration and love. Naturally I glanced at Marcia, checking for some sibling rivalry, but there was none. Her face was the same. They both adored Lacey.
“Well, unless Prince Harry is still available. Then I’m afraid I won’t be,” she added, making Marcia and Mr. La Croix laugh. Clearly an inside joke.
“Well, maybe you can settle for someone less royal and a bit more local.” Marcia draped an arm over my shoulders, as if we were this close and this joke was anywhere near the realm of appropriate.
“Anyway.” Mr. La Croix shot Marcia a look. “You kids behave yourselves. Try not to get into too much trouble before it’s time to go out. You know how some of you get.” His eyes darted to Lacey. She pressed her lips together and nodded. He smiled. “No one needs to get sick three times in one week.” He chuckled and walked inside, leaving Marcia snickering and Lacey’s cheeks burning, but she nodded along like this banter was normal.
“You told him about the Sunday puking?” Her eyes flashed on Marcia.
“Yes, of course. How else was I going to ensure he felt terrible? He needed to know he was evil for doing that to you.” She’d defended her friend to her father. Her friend who secretly crushed on her boyfriend and was stealing her position at the family company. What a strange group they were.
“Oh my God. He doesn’t need to feel worse. He’s already upset enough. He knows I don’t normally have a squeamish stomach.” Lacey covered her face, which nearly matched her tight pink suit dress. “Remember the sea insects we ate like peanuts in the bowl in that bar in Taiwan? He and I liked them.”
“Yeah, well, it was mean, and any opportunity I get to lecture him is taken.” Marcia stuffed some bread into her mouth, grinning before she started chewing.
Lacey rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I have to go get changed before everyone gets here.”
“What, you aren’t going clubbing in your work clothes like every other snobby New Yorker?”
“No, dick, I’m going to steal some of your clothes.” Lacey flipped her friend off and headed inside, surprising me in every way. Except the sarcasm. That I knew she was fully capable of.
“So, how’s Captain Jack?” Monty asked.
“Surly and gross and slutty.” I spoke slowly, really putting thought into those descriptors. “His idea of grandfatherly advice comes in the form of how to avoid getting crabs.”
“I love that old bastard.” He grinned. “He and my Grandpa got along so well.”
“I’m sorry about Old Monty. We were at the funeral, but it was so packed I never got a chance to say hi, and then I had to get back to school.” I lifted my glass. “He, too, was a classic.”
“To Old Monty.” He clinked his glass to mine.
When Marcia left us alone, we sat down and I leaned in. “What is going on here?”
“With what?” He looked around nervously at the switch in my behavior.
“Why am I here?”
“Cause I like you?” He changed to confused.
“I met that Lacey girl a couple of nights ago, we kissed on the boat cruise, and then I stupidly hit on her a bit in front of Amy, who I honestly forgot was my ‘date’ at the last peacocking party. Lacey called me out on it. Which I get. But then I called Marcia to find out her story, certain I could solve my Amy issue by the end of the week and maybe ask Lacey out like a gentleman. I ask one question about the girl, and now suddenly I’m here. Having drinks with Lacey, who doesn’t look like she’s excited to see me, which makes me think she wasn’t in on inviting me.” I lowered my voice even more upon seeing his expression. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“Not even a little clue.” He glanced back behind us. “I thought she invited you because you’re one of my favorites, we never see you because Marcia hates Stephen and you two are always joined at the hip, and you’ve been in Boston for school for almost half a decade. Which means”—his eyes got serious again when he looked at me—“Marcia has a plan. She clearly wants to hook you and Lacey up.”
“I can think of worse ways to die.” I chuckled.
“Yeah, but it’s weird because Marcia lumps you in with your brother’s old behavior. She thinks you’re a pig. She wouldn’t normally hook you up with Lacey. And even if she would consider it for some uncharacteristic reason, Lacey’s cool. Like, the coolest girl I know. She’s smart, funny, honest, hardworking, humble, smoking hot. I mean, she’s the whole package. And her little brother is her in guy form. Very rad family.”
“How do you know them?”
“Her grandparents came into some money when Lacey was thirteen. They decided to pay for the kids to go to a good school. They went to Pennbrook Academy with us.”
“Oh, wow, and to think I turned down Pennbrook to go to Dalton.”
“Better football. I was always jealous of you.” Monty sighed, still checking on the girls to ensure they weren’t coming.
“Yeah, well, now I’m jealous of you. You’ve known her this whole time and never accidentally—”
“No, man!” Monty scoffed. “She’s like a little sister. And we didn’t hang out a ton until I started seeing Marcia a few years ago. She isn’t that kind of girl anyway. She dated France—”
“Oh my God, that’s her!” I exclaimed, probably too loudly. “Fuck! Yes. I remember her now. Halloween party like two years back at Warner’s place. She was getting pissed at him, at France. He had cheated or something. She had on some crazy outfit, so I didn’t recognize her.”
“Right. She was Cruella De Vil. Had a wig and makeup on and a bunch of stuffed dalmatian puppies.”
“They always have wigs on. I never recognize half of the Upper East Side; could be my best friend’s girl, and I don’t have a clue whom he’s with. And not just on Halloween either. More wigs than plastic surgery clinics. I’ve just learned to go with it. Man! France blew that one.”
“Did he ever. She actually liked the dipshit too. Hasn’t dated since. Refuses to date a blue blood, in fact, so I don’t know why Marcia would torture you or her.” Monty sounded lost.
“She hasn’t dated in two ye
ars?” We had that in common.
“No. It doesn’t help that I have basically made her forbidden fruit either. Every guy in town wants her, but they know I’ll hire a hit on them if they mess with her. And she’s not rich, so of course no guys will actually invest their time in her. Plus she’s in school, has no pressure to snap up someone rich or connected before there’s no one left in the pile, and she works full-time all summer for a company that expects her to take over one day. I don’t imagine she has much time for herself or anyone else.”
“No.”
“And the little brother I was talking about, Martin. He’s sick. Just got diagnosed with cancer. Really shitty, cause it’s the same variety that killed their grandpa.”
“Jesus.” I grimaced, heartbroken for her, and I didn’t even know her.
“Like I said, her brother is a cool kid. Fortunately Marcia said he would be fine—it’s treatable and shit—but the kid’s only, like, seventeen.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Don’t tell her I told you. I just wanted you to know the deal in case Marcia has a plan for you two.” His stare grew serious, threatening almost. “She isn’t some side dish.” He took his role as big brother seriously.
“I’m not a side dish kind of guy.” I thought he knew me better than that, but I tried not to be insulted. “You know I haven’t dated in almost two years either. I don’t want commitment.”
“Dear God. You live like a monk then?”
“Yeah. It’s not so bad. Better than being with someone and worrying whether or not their family meets your family’s expectations. Watching my brother going through his shit to get my family to agree to Cynthia was way too much effort. And I haven’t felt a spark worthy of that much work in a while.” My eyes darted to the doorway.
“You don’t even give in every once and a while and just fuc—”
“No,” I laughed. “I don’t think I could do a one-night stand. Not my thing.”
“Totally changing the subject, but tell me you have a plan for this Amy situation.”
“I’m working on something. I mean she’s not a bad person per se, but she’s so incredibly narcissistic that I don’t know if she’s aware other people even exist. Except her friends. She’s always texting and taking selfies and posting live feed of her with the beautiful people, like they’re entertaining enough for that. Stephen told me she’s obsessed with some drummer of some band. I heard her and her friends talking about them a lot. She’s going to follow the band on tour this summer.”
“Amy’s going to follow a band all summer?” Marcia interrupted as she walked in on us.
“Yeah.” I laughed bitterly.
“Then why don’t you just break it off?” Marcia sat on Monty’s lap and stole his drink.
“Because my dad is cozying up to hers, trying to make us all one big happy family so they’ll invest and he can redeem himself with Grandpa Jack. I can’t burn the bridge; the deal isn’t even done, and it’s a ten-figure payout. It’s got to be handled delicately.” I sounded like my grandpa. For half a second, I contemplated telling them about how I was going to us the Test Dummy to test myself, pretending to be Amy, and risk getting disinherited if I couldn’t work my way out of the so-called relationship, but I decided not to. I needed to look guilty when I got caught, and Marcia was a blabber.
“You need to man up and end that. It’s ridiculous, and it’s killing your street cred, honestly.” Marcia finished the drink. “Your dad’s pimping you out. It’s sad.”
“All right, that feels better,” Lacey interrupted, though it might have been for the best. I didn’t have much to say in my own defense.
And whatever I did have was lost the moment I saw her, my spark.
She strolled out onto the deck wearing the sexiest little pale-pink dress in the history of sexy little summer dresses. It was perfect for a night of clubbing on a warm evening. And perfect for making me desperate to touch her. Her dark hair and milky skin stood out against the dress. It was almost as pale as her skin, making me uncomfortably drawn to her.
I didn’t have a chance to even think about saying something polite, because the party arrived all at once.
“Everyone’s here! Finally!” Marcia hurried inside, shouting and waving. “Time to party!” She was already halfway there.
Monty got up, nudging me. “Close one door before you open another.” He was offering some brotherly advice—not the kind my own brother would give me. No. Stephen would see Lacey and set a challenge for me, betting me he could get her into bed before me. And he would have. And then he would discard her, because that was who he was before he fell in love. But that’s not how I rolled.
My stomach ached as I stared at Lacey smiling and laughing with her friends. I longed to brush a hand along the bare skin of her back or drag my lips up her long neck.
She was beautiful.
Adding the fact that I couldn’t have her made me want her even more.
Chapter Nineteen
NEVER EVER
Lacey
For everyone else at the party, the drinks flowed, even turning into shots a few times, but I managed to avoid the bar. I loaded up on food and was constantly sporting a bottle of water that was switched out by Moser. He knew me too well. He’d tried with Marcia, but she was too far gone. She wasn’t having the water.
I had too much on my mind to contemplate getting drunk.
I needed to be sharp tomorrow when I took down Kami’s boyfriend.
Plus, I didn’t want to accidentally get drunk and end up saying something rude to Jordan again or having another bathroom rendezvous. Not when he was my next target. I needed distance from that one. Even if he looked incredibly hot.
Marcia’s plan to invite Jordan infuriated me, and he must have sensed that, because he spent the night hanging with Monty and Theo, drinking on the deck with cigars around a fire. His eyes were the only thing that dared to venture across the room to me. I caught him staring a few times.
In the light of the fire and the twinkling buildings all around him—New York’s own version of a starry sky—he was obviously easy on the eyes but hard on everything else.
Hard on my morals, mostly.
He was everything I despised.
Rich, spoiled, trust-fund brat, cheater, and entitled.
“This dress is supercute.” Maya, one of our school friends, plucked at the skirt, pulling me from my internal conversation.
“It’s Marcia’s. I had to steal it. I came here after work wearing business clothes. Because I have a job.” I laughed and nudged Marcia, jumping back into the party.
“You swore you wouldn’t throw it in my face anymore.” She feigned a hurt look.
“I lied!” I cackled and let her attack me with hugs.
“Just love me, dammit. Accept me for who I am.”
“Stop fighting it, Marcia. Even I’m working now.” Maya smiled wide, interrupting us. “My mom got me in with her friend who does high-end designer work for interiors. She’s, like, the best of the best and looking for her newest intern. I start on Monday.” She beamed.
“Congratulations!” I dragged Marcia over to hug Maya with me.
“Yeah, I figured since my parents are splitting, I should find a career so that I can live on my own. My dad said I wasn’t allowed to move out until I chose a focus. So, there it is.” She laughed like she wasn’t in pain, but her eyes outed her truths.
“Oh, shit.” Marcia cringed.
“I’m so sorry, Maya. I didn’t know.”
“No one did. They told me last week. Mom’s moving to the Hamptons for the summer, and Dad’s going to stay in the house here. And they’ll avoid each other at all costs while Mr. Sandu ends his marriage and he and Mom start their new life together.” Her bitterness showed.
“Oh.” I didn’t bother delving any further. There was no way to pretend I didn’t know they were still seeing each other. Everything was clearly out in the open. And Marcia had seen them just a week ago.
“Shit.” Marcia repeated her thoughts on the whole thing.
“Complete. But I’m not going to dwell. I knew my parents were unhappy. And it’s whatever. At least I’m the youngest and this doesn’t really affect me. I’ll get my own place and finish my last year of school and start life.” She lifted her glass. “To choosing a career.” She sounded perkier, but again, her eyes betrayed her.
I clinked my glass and drank a sip.
“And you’ll be next,” she said to Marcia like this was even an option. “I guarantee it. You’ll find something you love.”
“I don’t know.” Marcia’s eyes decided to do the same thing Maya’s did: convey troubled waters and high emotions. “I honest to God can’t think of a single thing I’d want to do for the rest of my life. I watch my dad buy these bullshit businesses and turn them into some massive company and then sell them, and all I can think is, how did he know? How did he see the potential? All I saw was some lame shit show no one else could manage.” Her eyes darted to me. “You got that from him; you got all the potential in the family.”
Her words stabbed me right in the heart.
The conversation was taking a dark turn. I handed Maya my water and placed both my hands on Marcia’s cheeks. “That is the dumbest thing you have ever said to me. And maybe the dumbest thing you have ever said in general.” I felt tears starting to form in my eyes, which was crazy; I wasn’t the crier at the party. That was Carmen. She was the one who always ended up in tears and telling everyone she loved them. And I wasn’t even drunk. “You have so much inside of you that you don’t see or use. Why do you think your dad and I always hound you? We see it. You’re more than your mom. You’re half your dad and at least a third me. So stop setting your bar so low.”
“Lace—”
“No.” I cut her off, refusing to let her make this a joke. Not when she’d finally opened up about her feelings. “Trying to be your dad is a waste. You’re so much more than that. He’s a great example of what happens when you find the thing you’re good at. Nothing more. So yeah, he found it early. Lucky him. You’ll find yours.”
