Amanda paid for the lunch, insisting that she had invited me, so it was her treat. After a friendly goodbye squeeze, she left, her Kate Spade heels snapping down the sidewalk. I counted to ten and, as I expected, I was joined by none other than Ainsley St. John, as if she’d come out of nowhere. There were so many similarities between her and Aubrey, but I was beginning to see the differences now. Aubrey’s lips were poutier, her cheeks fuller. Ainsley’s eyes were a tad closer together, her nose a bit sharper. They were both beautiful though, as much as it annoyed me to admit that a Tri Mu was equal to a Deb in something.
‘We have to stop meeting like this,’ I drawled. I had to say, knowing that she was one of Liza’s phone sex operators made me like her a whole lot less. And I wouldn’t have thought that was possible.
‘What were you two doing in there?’ Ainsley demanded, pointing at the restaurant where Amanda and I had just eaten.
‘None of your business,’ I said as politely as I could, even though it should have been obvious, what with the forks and the plates of food and all.
Ainsley’s eyes narrowed on me. ‘I thought you would do something. That’s why I gave you the numbers.’
Right. The numbers. Now I concluded there might be something seriously wrong with Aubrey’s twin. You know, in the brain. Some kind of mental problem. Or maybe she wasn’t taking her meds like she should. It was just a tragedy pile up where this girl was concerned. I had taken her seriously when she’d said she wanted the phone sex ring shut down. But that was before I knew she was an integral part of its operation.
‘What do you want?’ I asked, trying to sound nice. Maybe if I was nice, she’d go away. That usually worked with the over-eager sales associates trying to sell me perfume at the department store.
‘I want justice.’ The self-righteous tone of her voice was shocking. Like she, of all ho-bags, had any room to demand anything.
‘If people keep picking up the phone, there’s nothing I can do.’ I looked at her accusingly. I understood that she felt victimised. My one experience the night before had definitely given me insight into the sleaziness of the business Ainsley was involved in. But she had to take responsibility and acknowledge that if she kept accepting calls from perverts, she might be helping to perpetuate the nastiness.
‘Margot?’ The voice came from behind me. I turned and there was Amanda, a question huge on her face as her eyes darted between me and Ainsley. She pointed lamely at the tea room door. ‘I think I left my credit card.’
The three of us faced off awkwardly for a moment. I thought fast. I didn’t want a mentally-unstable Ainsley to attack Amanda or anything. That could cause PTSD. For Amanda and for me. ‘She’s not involved in this,’ I said to Ainsley about Amanda. ‘She’s not Panhellenic anymore. This is between us. Deb and Moo … Mu. Mu.’ I hoped she would ignore the slightly insulting slip of the tongue. It was one thing to call them Moos behind their back, it was quite another to say it to their face. My pledge trainer taught me better than that.
Ainsley pointed at Amanda. ‘She could have stopped this from the beginning.’ Ainsley looked back at me, ferociousness in her pretty eyes. ‘It was her job!’
Amanda gasped self-righteously. I put my hands out between them. ‘Seriously. Leave her alone.’ I used my sternest Chapter Advisor voice, the one that really hadn’t been working so well recently. Maybe I just needed practice.
Ainsley’s lip curled. ‘I see now that you’re just as bad as the rest of them. You just won’t take me seriously until I expose every last one of you slutty Delta Beta bitches.’ And with that dramatic statement, she whirled and stomped off down the street.
‘Ainsley …’ I called after her half-heartedly. The Chapter Advisor in me wanted to broker some sort of peace. The Delta Beta in me wanted her far, far, away from me. Like on another planet. Without hair dye or moisturiser.
Then I remembered Amanda, awkwardly standing by after being attacked for no good reason. ‘Are you okay?’ I asked, searching her face for any distress. She nodded and I saw that she was upset. But then, like a strong Deb woman, she pushed her shoulders back, lifted her chin and went to get her credit card.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I was knee deep in a fascinating TLC marathon about big fat Amish gypsies when the doorbell rang. I picked up my broom, just in case I had to chase a fraternity pledge with it.
Turned out, it was just Ty Hatfield.
‘Again?’ I asked.
‘I could say the same about you,’ he said, pushing his way in the door. A dark haired officer followed him: Malouf, the same one who had come the night that Liza died.
‘Is Hunter Curtis around?’ Ty asked.
I didn’t like the sound of his voice. It was very … official. And not very friendly. And when a cop talks like that, it makes you stand straight and answer, pronto.
‘He’s probably in the dining room. We just finished dinner.’
Because he was looking all official and sounding official and had another officer with him, my stomach felt like lead as we walked back to the dining room.
‘Hunter?’ I called his name, seeing the hard worker cleaning off the tables where the ladies had just eaten chicken à la king and fruit salad for dinner. ‘These gentlemen …’
But I was cut off by Ty stepping forward. ‘Hunter Curtis?’ There was his authoritative cop voice again.
Hunter nodded, struck mute by the same respect for law enforcement that I had.
‘You’re under arrest.’ The dark haired officer Malouf grabbed Hunter by the shoulder and spun him around, linking both of Hunter’s hands behind his lower back.
‘For what?’ I demanded hotly.
Ty gave me a cool look. ‘For burglary, destruction of property, criminal mischief.’
I was shocked. Yet, Hunter was not. His head hung low and his shoulders slumped as he was led out of the house. It was to be expected that sorority sisters started gathering in the hall, their nightly activities interrupted, yet again, by police in the sorority house. The fact that Hunter was a criminal, here, working for us, working among us, was going to devastate everyone.
Ty walked slower than his partner, staying behind with me. My mind was running a mile a minute. I’d have to call HQ – again – and ask about Hunter’s background employment check. They’d have to call our lawyer about liability. And Casey! I’d have to call him the second the police left and give him time to formulate a PR statement.
‘His fingerprints were all over the room,’ Ty said under his breath.
‘What?’ My head spun to look at him. ‘What room?’
‘The Chapter Advisor’s office.’
I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘Let Hunter go, right this second.’
Ty stopped and stared. ‘Excuse me?’
‘He’s the house brother,’ I explained calmly. ‘He does house work for us. His fingerprints are all over this house. That’s no proof of anything.’
‘They were wrapped around the award used to destroy the computer.’ Ty’s words chilled me. ‘They weren’t accidental, house cleaning fingerprints.’
I let go of the breath I was holding, slow and measured. Ty continued. ‘The fingerprints matched ones taken at the Beta Gamma house two years ago when their chapter room was stacked with giant blow up phalluses.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘They called the cops about that?’ I asked incredulously. Beta Gamma had no sense of humour. Ty was deadpan and I remembered something about goats in the bathroom. I decided to focus on the bigger issue. ‘So Hunter broke into the office as a frat pledge prank? He’s not even a pledge!’
Ty shrugged. ‘Or he helped his pledges get into the house.’ He started walking toward the door again, paused and looked back at me. ‘Have you thought about a security system yet?’
A frustrated exhale blew my bangs out of my eyes. I watched Hunter being put into the police car and then they drove off, leaving me and thirty sorority women with no one to clear our plates. This was getting ridiculous.
I hustled up
some pledges to help with the kitchen clean up, promising them a reprieve on their other pledge duties later. Until we hired a new house brother, or Hunter came back, I’d have to come up with a rotating system for the chores he normally did. I mostly focused on the inconvenience of it all until we finished the dishes and then I remembered what else had happened the night that the Chapter Advisor office had been trashed. Stefanie Grossman’s file had disappeared.
Why would the frat pledges have stolen just one file from our office? It didn’t make sense. But then, goats and giant phalluses and a hundred pineapple no cheese pizzas didn’t make sense either. These were fraternities we were talking about.
Still, with the sensitive information contained in Stefanie’s file, I needed to make sure that didn’t get passed around fraternity row. Next thing you knew, they’d all expect sexual favours in the stadium bathroom and Delta Beta’s reputation would be toast.
Callie’s room was on the second floor by the stairs. As S&M director, I thought she should be brought in on this discussion. As I approached her door, I heard the familiar sound of a girl crying. Oh boy. Not another one.
I knocked three times. ‘Callie? Can I come in?’
She answered in the affirmative and I found her curled up in her bed, a Deb T-shirt quilt wrapped around her. She was clutching her cell phone so tightly her knuckles were white.
‘Callie.’ I went to her immediately. It broke my heart seeing her, clearly devastated by something. ‘What is it?’
A wet sob bubbled out of her and I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her. Ten years of sorority life and I knew only one thing wrought this kind of devastation.
‘Boy trouble?’ I asked.
She nodded, clenching her phone into her chest. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Callie’s head shook in my shoulder. ‘It’s okay, I know,’ I sympathised. ‘Boys are so stupid.’
She nodded in my shirt and I heard the squelch of something wet from her face.
‘I know, I know. Let me guess, he was supposed to call and he didn’t?’
Another shake. I was getting a little frustrated at this guessing game. ‘Why don’t you just tell me what happened?’ I said, pulling away so I could give her a chance to talk. And breathe.
‘I just don’t get men,’ she wailed. ‘They just don’t listen, you know? They want you there when they want you, but when you want them to you know, shut up and give you a chance to talk, they’re like, they’re the man and they’re going to do what they want to do. You know?’
‘Maybe,’ I said. I wasn’t quite sure I followed, but sometimes distraught girls just needed someone to hear them out.
‘We talk every night,’ she sobbed. ‘But he said he couldn’t call tonight.’ I hoped the phone was sturdy because she was gripping the thing very tightly.
‘Why can’t he call tonight?’ I asked carefully. I was pretty sure she hadn’t covered that part.
‘BECAUSE HE’S STUPID.’
Oh yeah, now that I got.
‘Look,’ I grabbed her wrists and shook her slightly. It was hard, with her arms locked to her chest around her phone. ‘You are Callahan Campbell. You are a descendant of Mary Gerald Callahan, the founder of one of the greatest sororities. Do you think Mary Gerald waited around and cried when a stupid boy didn’t call?’
Callie sniffed. ‘Probably not. In 1879.’
‘Exactly!’ I said. Point proved. ‘No, Mary Gerald and her best friend Leticia didn’t want stupid boys running their lives. They wanted to have a place, all their own, where women could support and love each other and live together and not worry about what other people thought.’
Callie cocked her head. ‘Family gossip has always been that they were lesbians.’
I took my hands off Callie and folded them in my lap primly. Point proved. ‘Like I said, we don’t need men,’ I added briskly.
‘I know,’ Callie sighed, leaning back into her pillows. ‘It’s just hard for me. When they just won’t listen. You know?’
I had been a sorority Chapter Advisor for a little over a week. I totally understood being ignored.
‘I need to talk to you about Stefanie Grossman,’ I said.
‘It just feels like you’re not even a real person. When you’re being talked at and not to.’
‘It’s about her file,’ I said. ‘The one that was taken from the Chapter Advisor’s office.’
‘I just want someone to hear me, really hear me,’ she said.
‘I’m concerned about the confidentiality provision being compromised,’ I explained.
Callie got a lost look on her face. She stared at me then crumpled into moist sobs again. For such a cute girl, she sure was an ugly crier.
‘Okay, okay. We can do it later, if you want,’ I said.
With a pathetic little nod, she rolled over on her side still clutching the cell phone in her hand. I guessed I should just do this another time. She was clearly too upset to handle sorority matters tonight.
‘Remember Callie,’ I said, trying to cheer her up. ‘Another stupid guy will come along. Just wait. You’ll see.’ I thought she looked a little better when I left.
*
I was settling in with Casey to watch a Project Runway marathon in the Chapter Advisor’s apartment. It was our favourite thing to do together, since Casey didn’t love Law & Order as much as me. With me travelling so much, I didn’t always get to see the Project Runway episodes, especially since there were places in this country that didn’t have premium cable. I know, it shocked me too.
We were sipping our Diet Cokes mixed with whatever was in Casey’s magically refilled Delta Beta flask and nibbling on a selection of Milano cookies, sighing over Tim Gunn’s dreaminess, when my phone rang. I could tell it was headquarters because I had a special Destiny’s Child ring tone for Delta Beta sisters. Independent Women just seemed appropriate when I thought about all those sassy Debs at HQ.
Mabel Donahue was on the other end of the call. I straightened up on the couch, as if she could assess my posture over the phone. ‘Hello, Mabel.’ Casey sat up as well. ‘Yes, yes, he’s here with me.’
‘Put him on speaker. You’ll both need to hear this.’
I did as Mabel commanded, always had, always will. ‘The worst has come to pass,’ Mabel said with a dire tone.
Casey gasped. ‘Lindsay Lohan pledged Delta Beta?’
‘No,’ Mabel said. ‘Worse.’
Casey and I exchanged a horrified glance. What could be worse?
‘Fraternity mixers have been banned by Panhellenic?’ I guessed.
‘Worse.’
I clutched my pearls. ‘There’s a shortage of Diet Coke?’
A sigh came from Mabel’s end. I guess we weren’t headed down the right path. ‘The Tri Mus. They know everything.’
‘Well, that’s impossible,’ Casey said, stating the obvious.
‘I just got a call from their headquarters. They’ve been informed of the Sutton College chapter’s involvement with a phone sex ring. Barbra Kline was very supportive and offered their assistance.’
‘That bitch!’ Casey said. He could use that word, since he wasn’t bound by Panhellenic expectations of ladylike conduct.
Mabel continued. ‘She offered to send one of their leadership experts to our chapter to assist us with, and I quote, our “moral lapses.”’
I closed my eyes. The shame was too much. ‘It’s going to be all around the country by lunch tomorrow.’
‘You two have to deal with this,’ Mabel said sternly. ‘There is too much at stake to let the Tri Mus get the upper hand.’
‘Their Chapter President is one of the phone sex operators,’ I told Mabel officially. ‘They have as much at stake as we do.’
‘How do you know this?’ She asked.
Casey and I exchanged a guilty look. There was no way to explain to Mabel that we were only calling a phone sex hotline for the most noble of purposes. And using a Delta Beta credit card, besides. ‘She confirmed it t
o me.’ That was pretty much true. As mentally confused as Ainsley seemed to be, she didn’t deny doing what she did for money.
‘Alright then,’ Mabel sounded positive for the first time since the call began. ‘We have a weapon and we’re not afraid to use it. This is war. They hit us and we hit them back. Casey, can I count on you?’
He had already grabbed his laptop to work. ‘Yes, ma’am. Going to the message boards now. Scandals don’t exist unless they’re online.’
‘Excellent. Margot? I assume you can control the ladies in Sutton?’
Control was a strong word, but I wasn’t going to let Mabel down. ‘You can count on me,’ I promised.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Casey and I spent the next few hours trolling sororitygossip.com and truthaboutsororities.net, shooting down any and all Tri Mus that came out of the woodwork talking trash. Word was spreading fast online, there were even memes. And if it was online, it was definitely being gossiped about via text and Twitter. It was like a never-ending virtual carnival game and, at the end of the night, more than profane. We had to face the cold, hard facts. Tri Mu had a weapon of mass destruction and they weren’t afraid to push the button. We had to come up with a plan.
I called Amanda the next morning. I thought I should give her an update on the situation, as a prominent Delta Beta in the college administration. She picked up on the third ring, sounding a little breathless. ‘Hey Big, it’s your little,’ I said.
‘Oh hey, I was just about to call you.’ That sounded less than enthusiastic.
‘Yeah?’ I asked, suddenly nervous.
‘I’m still officially Panhellenic Advisor so I’m just going to come right out and say it.’
Now I was definitely nervous. Had the rumours reached her already? ‘What?’
‘There’s been a complaint filed against you.’
I blinked hard and shook my head like there was water in my ears. ‘WHAT?’ That was not what I was expecting.
‘Actually two.’
‘Who?’ The one word was all I could get out. I was dumbfounded.
‘It’s so ridiculous, it really is. But … once paperwork is filed …’ Amanda’s voice trailed off. I understood. In our world, these things were official.
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