“He’s only mad because he was going to head out for college yesterday, and they put him on the shift for tonight because I requested it off.”
I saw Heather come up the stairs and walk in our direction. She wore a clingy gray dress with her hair twisted up. Of course, she was beautiful, but I didn’t pay attention to any of that for long. “Here she comes,” I said, trying to think of a logical reason to keep Jayce with me. I could be whiny and remind him of his promise that he wouldn’t ditch me, but I didn’t want to be that girl. The one who makes the guy stay with her even when she knows he’d rather be with someone else.
“Give me the word, and I’ll stay.” His gaze landed on mine.
Heather slipped her arm through his. “Ready?”
“Have fun.” I tried to sound convincing.
Jayce frowned. “I came with Brooke. I don’t want to leave her hanging.”
“Brooke doesn’t need a babysitter, right?”
I scoffed. “Whatever. I’m having a great time all by myself.” I turned and pretended to study the food. I picked up a few appetizers and placed them in a napkin. By the time I turned around, they were gone. I popped a mini-quiche in my mouth.
“Aren’t those the best?” a deep voice asked the question beside me.
I turned and stared up at him, my mouth full of quiche, surprised anyone else at this club would talk to me. And it was none other than Lucas Fairchild! With his bronzed hair, full lips, and half-smile, he reminded me of one of those soap stars.
“The quiche,” he prompted with a grin. “I can eat at least a dozen. What about you?” He popped a couple in his mouth.
I tried to swallow and say something but had to take a swig of water Lucas just handed me before saying, “They’re good.”
“You’re Brooke, right? Brooke McFadden?”
I nodded and took another sip of water. Why was he staring at me like that? With kind eyes and a warm smile? He was a Fairchild, wasn’t he?
“I’m Lucas Fairchild.”
“I know,” I blurted. When he raised his eyebrows, I added, “Everyone knows who you are.”
“Ah, I see. I’ve heard about my illustrious reputation. Just don’t believe everything you hear. I don’t have devil’s horns or anything.”
“No, I…I…I wasn’t saying that.” I stumbled over my words because that’s exactly what I was saying.
“Here, try this one.” He handed me a small pastry puff. “It’s full of cheesy goodness.”
Not knowing what else to do, I bit into it. I nodded and gave the thumbs-up sign.
“Right?” he asked. “I thought so.”
While I ate the pastry, he picked another couple of appetizers from the table. I took another sip of water, gathered my courage, and pushed myself to attempt a conversation. “Have you had one of the chocolate-covered strawberries? They’re out of this world.”
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I sat in the kitchen at the Boardwalk Restaurant and ate one for every two that Miguel made. That chocolate is imported from Switzerland.”
I nodded as if impressed. “Wow. Switzerland. Do they own the secret recipe to the best chocolate?”
Lucas laughed at my attempt at being funny. I found myself smiling. “Yes,” he finally answered, acting all serious. “They keep the secret chocolate formula vaulted underground. Word has it that only an elite group can access it and only if their firstborn is offered as a sacrifice.”
“Then they’d only be able to access it one time,” I said. “I mean, a person can only have one firstborn.”
“It’s very complicated,” Lucas said, his lips turning up. “I don’t know all the secrets.”
“Right.” I acted seriously.
We paused before laughing.
“Okay, okay,” Lucas said, his hands up. “I give up. You’re a tough crowd. There’s no impressing you.”
“I only saw the holes in your story and pointed them out.” I lifted my chin with a flair of cockiness.
“Yes, Robert McFadden’s daughter would be able to find the holes in any story, I’m sure.”
My smile vanished for a second at the sound of my dad’s name. This was the second time tonight someone specifically mentioned him. And of course, they would. He was a successful, bestselling author. He might not have been a millionaire, but for the last two years before his death, he was able to take care of the family solely on his royalty checks. I coughed and tried to smile again. “He trained me well.” I tried to keep my tone lighthearted still, but it didn’t look like Lucas was buying it.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought him up. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Seriously. I’m glad that he is remembered.”
“And so he should be. His books are legendary. I can’t wait for the third one to come out.”
“You read?”
My questions made Lucas laugh again. “I know. Crazy, right? Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want all the ladies to know that I’m actually an intellectual who also is a big fanboy of fantasy and sci-fi. I also have a secret stash of comic books from my preteen years that I refuse to get rid of.”
“Comic books? I am officially weirded out.”
“Hey, don’t judge. They’re valuable and worth money.”
“That’s what my dad said to my mom every time she complained about the boxes of comic books that sat in our basement.”
“Do you still have all those comic books? Since…” Lucas paused.
“My mom refuses to part with them.”
“I bet.” He became solemn, then continued, “I’m sorry for your loss. I’ve seen you once or twice this summer, but I never took the opportunity to offer my condolences.”
“Thanks.” I forced myself not to get emotional over his sincerity. “And it’s okay. I’ve kept to myself this entire summer. Sort of hiding from everyone. Probably not the healthiest thing to do.”
“It’s understandable. But it would have been cool to have gotten to know you before the last day of the season.”
“Yeah, I sort of wasted it, you know? If I could do it over, I’d make myself get out more. And avoid your sister, especially when inviting me to phantom parties.”
Lucas cringed. “I heard about that. I couldn’t believe she did it.”
“Are you talking about me?” Heather stepped between the two of us.
“Why would we be talking about you?” I asked, annoyed that she showed up right when we were talking about her. “Are you that arrogant that you’d presume we’d have nothing to talk about other than you?”
Heather looked over at her brother. “You really will flirt with anyone in a dress, won’t you?”
“Knock it off.” His smile vanished, and his tone hardened. “You don’t get to interrupt my conversation and be insulting. And don’t you have a waiter to entertain?” The way Lucas said waiter made it sound like the word was far beneath him.
“Yes, I do,” Heather said. “I’m only up here because I forgot my purse.” Turning to me, she said, “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. He flirts with everyone. By the way, your dress is wrinkled.”
After she left us, Lucas sighed and said, “I swear I have no idea how we’re related. She can be… something. And I don’t flirt with anyone in a skirt. Married women are off-limits. So are women who are over ten years older than me.”
My mouth dropped open until I saw his grin. The tension broke, and I smiled in return. “Thanks for the warning. You should put all that on a name tag and stick it to your shirt.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Good thinking.”
Suddenly the yacht moved forward. It was then I heard the engines and saw that we had already moved quite a ways from the docks. I gasped as the panic hit. “Wha-What are they doing?”
“Taking a cruise on Lake Michigan. There are fireworks in a little bit.”
“Out in open water?” My skin became clammy, and I could feel the sheen of sweat upon my face.
I set my food and cup down and tried to
gracefully walk away. The last thing I wanted was for Lucas Fairchild to see me have a full-fledged panic attack.
3
“What’s wrong? You look like you might get sick? I have some motion sickness medicine somewhere if you need some.” Lucas followed me, then touched my arm, his brows knitted together in concern.
But my heart pounded so aggressively that I could barely hear Lucas over it. “Bathroom,” I said. “I need the bathroom.”
“Sure.”
I followed him past the sliding door and into what looked like a massive sitting room, complete with an oversized fish tank. If I wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack, I would have cracked a joke.
“Here.” He flipped on the light switch to a small bathroom.
I stepped inside, shut the door, and leaned against it. Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing techniques I had learned when faced with a panic attack. I breathed in through my nose, held my breath for three seconds, and then slowly released the air. Again and again. Feeling a little calmer, I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection in the mirror. “No big deal,” I said to the girl staring back at me. “You can do this. You walked the docks and stepped into the yacht, so you can handle a boat ride.”
My attention became diverted to my appearance. My green dress was wrinkled. And my long, curly hair had started to frizz. And I looked pale. I opened my small purse, found some lip gloss, and touched up my lips. I had no other make-up so I pinched my cheeks. I studied myself and sighed. “Well, that’s the best you can do.”
I opened the door and walked into the large sitting area. A few partygoers littered the room, but no sign of Lucas. I checked down the hall and didn’t see him there either. Then again, what did I expect? That Mr. Casanova would stick around for a neurotic girl in a wrinkled dress? But I still felt disappointed. I had enjoyed our conversation. I hadn’t smiled and laughed that much since before… I could see why the rumors swirled about him. Just a twenty-minute conversation with him, and I was already crushing. “Get a grip, Brooke,” I said under my breath.
A partygoer who walked by paused and glanced at me. “Did you say something?”
“Not to you,” I said. “Just talking to myself.”
Embarrassed, I left the sitting room and stepped back out onto the deck. I stood there for a moment and questioned what I should do. From the looks of it, the yacht had already left the harbor and was cruising through open water. I no longer wanted to be on the open deck. Being in an enclosed space would be better. Deciding to check on Bobby, I walked to the same stairs I had observed him descending, and I followed suit.
This level had another open room set up with a pool table on one end and a television screen that took up the length of the wall behind it. Several kids sat on the oversized couch and chairs playing a video game. Zach sat in the middle of two girls.
“Hey, Zach.” I tried to get his attention, but he was too focused on the game in front of him. “Zach!”
“What?” He glanced at me.
“Where’s Bobby?”
“Don’t know.”
Zach and Bobby were two peas in a pod. I began to get worried. “Have any of you seen Bobby?”
No one answered at first. Finally, one girl answered, “I saw him go with Georgia down that hall.”
I thanked her and began to walk down that same hall. I overheard someone ask, “Who was that?” Another kid answered, “That’s Bobby’s weird sister.” Knowing I shouldn’t, I stopped to listen.
“He can’t stand to be around her,” Zach said. “And she gives me the creeps.”
“You went into the cabin once, didn’t you?”
Zach must have done something that got everyone to laugh. Unable to help myself, I peered around the corner to see what he was doing. At the same time, one of the girls spotted me. I moved out of sight again, but cringed when she said, “Oh my God, she’s watching us right now.”
I rushed down the hall. The last comment I heard was, “She really is a creep.”
Once I had some distance, I paused and leaned against the hallway wall. “I’m not a creep,” I whispered to myself, angry that I was allowing a bunch of twelve-year-olds get to me. But what hurt more than their insults was Zach’s comment about Bobby not wanting to be around me. Sure, he had spent most of the entire summer out of the cabin, but I thought it had to do with friends and pools and girls and summertime stuff.
I made it to the stern and saw Bobby with a cute red-head girl leaning against the rail. I hurriedly opened the sliding door. “Bobby, be careful!” I rushed out but stayed away from the edge.
Bobby’s smile faded when he saw me. “What? We’re just watching the water.”
“I know, but you shouldn’t lean like that. What if you slip and fall in?”
Bobby sighed and said to the girl, “Come on. She’s not going to leave me alone if I don’t do what she says.”
They walked past me and back into the boat. For a second, my gaze locked on the tumultuous waves beyond the rail. I walked backward slowly until I was inside, then slid the door closed. I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. Then I turned and saw Bobby and the girl almost to the end of the hall.
“Bobby!” I called out again.
He looked back at me, so I waved him over. Bobby whispered something in the girl’s ear then moved toward me, a scowl on his face. “What do you want now?”
“I want to see how it’s going?” I tried to keep my tone light. “Who’s the girl?”
“No one.”
“She seems like someone to me.”
“What are you doing on the yacht?” He didn’t hide his irritation. “Weren’t you staying back at the cabin like you always do?”
“Well, yes, but Jayce stopped by and convinced me to face my fears and come with him. And I’m having a good time. Or I was until the yacht started moving and your friends started making fun of me.”
“What did you say to my friends?”
“Nothing,” I said in defense. “I was only looking for you. But they called me a creep.”
“Maybe that’s because you sat in the cabin all the time and never showered or combed your hair. Word gets around you know.”
“Hey, I showered!” I said. “Don’t be a jerk! I only wanted to check up on you and say hi.”
“Why? You haven’t checked up on me this entire summer. You acted like I didn’t exist!” His preteen fists were balled, and his face had turned red. “Just leave me alone with my friends!” He spun on his heel and left me.
That’s when I saw his group of friends down the hall watching us. “And I’m not a creep! And I do take showers!” I yelled at them before turning and heading down another hall.
Once I had some distance, I paused and leaned against the wall, hurt that my brother didn’t want me around. And from the sounds of it, he agreed more with his friends. Is that what other people thought? That I was a creep who didn’t take showers? Heat rushed to my face in humiliation.
Not knowing what else to do, I decided to find a quiet spot and wait for the boat ride to end. I took a right at the next hallway and started passing servers. “Am I going the right way?” I asked one of them.
“Galley’s down the hall,” she said.
“I don’t want the galley.” Still, I headed in that direction. Maybe Lakely would be there or someone I knew that I could talk to until we got back to land.
The galley had servers coming and going with a short man wearing a chef’s hat barking out orders. But it was Heather sitting on the counter that caught my attention, her eyes red from tears. Everyone worked around her, while she stuffed miniature cream puffs in her mouth.
“Is everything all right?” I asked. “Where’s Jayce?”
Heather’s head snapped in my direction. Her facial expression changed from surprise to apparent fury. “Get out of here!” she yelled, throwing a cream puff at my head. She slid off the counter and stormed toward me.
“I’m sorry. I got turned around. Where’s Jayce?” I aske
d. “Is he still waiting for you?”
“You and your family,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I…” I hesitated, not knowing how to answer that.
Heather crossed her arms and tilted her head as if thinking. “Jayce’s down one floor. Looking for you.” She shoved past me and down the hall.
The servers had stopped what they were doing to watch the scene. I picked up the thrown cream puff and set it on the counter before apologizing for interrupting. Then I made my way to a set of stairs. In the back of my mind, I wondered if Heather decided to pull another prank on me, but I also wondered if she pulled a prank on Jayce.
I took the stairs down into what appeared to be one large corridor with bedrooms on each side. But that didn’t keep my attention. Because down the hall, I saw Mr. Fairchild whispering in my mother’s ear.
Mom? And Mr. Fairchild?
I covered my mouth in shock and horror. But I couldn’t look away. I watched as he whispered in her ear, his hand on her back. He tucked her hair behind her ear in an intimate gesture. I thought of Heather crying upstairs, and I now understood why. She must have seen this too, and she wanted me to see it for myself. No wonder she treated me like a disease!
Before I could stop myself, I yelled down the hall, “It looks like someone got over their grieving!”
Mr. Fairchild stepped back while Mom spun around to face me. “Brooke?” She acted horrified. “Wh-Wh-What are you doing here?”
“That’s the question you’re going to start with?”
“It’s not what it looks like.” She began to approach me. Mr. Fairchild took one look at me and headed in the opposite direction.
“So his hand wasn’t on your back? And he wasn’t whispering in your ear or playing with your hair?”
Mom stumbled over words, but nothing that came out of her mouth made sense.
“What are you doing with a married man?” I asked, my anger getting the better of me. “He’s...He’s…He’s married!”
Mom ran her fingers through her hair, her face crestfallen and agonized. “It’s not like that…I mean, we’re friends.”
Falling Too Deep Page 3
