Fling Club (Serendipity Book 1)

by Tara Brown

  “Okay, dear.” She didn’t care what it meant. “See you when you get home. And don’t forget to tell Andrew I need him to call me ASAP, please.” She said ASAP in a fierce way and hung up. She never said goodbye, like we lived in a TV show or a movie.

  Who didn’t say goodbye?

  Texting my brother to relay the message from Mommy dearest, as if I were his secretary, I sauntered into the formal living room and plunked onto the sofa as commotion came out of nowhere.

  “Cherry?” My name was shouted in a hubbub of girls’ voices and quick footsteps on the stairs. “Oh, there you are!” Sarah came rushing in with Cora, Erica, and Laura hot on her tail. My girlfriends from home unexpectedly burst into the room, spewing emotion and gossip.

  “Oh my God, I am so sorry. We just heard about Griffin!” Erica dropped to her knees in front of me. “We came as soon as we heard you were back in New York.”

  “Are you okay?” Laura asked as she sat next to me on the sofa.

  “We grabbed gelato, in case you weren’t—okay, that is.” Sarah held up gelato from the Italian bakery down the road.

  “Sorry, Cherry,” Cora offered softly.

  “Thanks, girls.” I nodded, trying to keep my cool. These were also friends of Cait’s, the same way I was, so I had to be careful. Keep my cards close, as my grandma always said. “I’m okay. I swear.”

  “What happened?” Erica asked the question I dreaded. “Why would you ever dump Griffin?”

  “Tell us the truth,” Laura blurted.

  “What have you heard?” I asked carefully. I hadn’t even told anyone we broke up.

  “I heard he was banging someone else, and you walked in. My sister has a thing with Carl, and he said your brother called him, flipping shit and asking him to help beat the piss out of Griffin.” Sarah opened the gelato and handed me a spoon. “Which of course Carl would love to do. He hates Griffin. I don’t know why.”

  “Oh.” I took a deep breath and grabbed the spoon to scoop a large bite of spumoni gelato, our favorite. I’d have to remember to thank Andy for his “chivalry” later. “Then I guess you know the story.”

  “Carl hinted it might have been Cait,” Laura offered as she took a big scoop. She was bold, but even she didn’t look me in the eyes when she went fishing. We all feared Cait, even when she was eighty-five miles away at the beach.

  “I don’t know who it was. I didn’t see her face, just her on top of my naked boyfriend. Blonde hair. Tanned skin. Thin girl. French manicure. That’s all I can confirm.”

  “No wonder Carl assumed it was Cait. That describes her to a—”

  “Clearly it was her, you dummy!” Laura blasted Cora.

  “Oh.” Cora flushed.

  “What a bitch. I can’t believe—” Erica paused. “No. I can believe. Sorry this happened, Cherry.”

  “At least now ya know he’s not worth it,” Cora offered quietly.

  “Yeah, at least you didn’t fall head over heels and start planning the engagement.” Laura nudged me.

  “Right. But I don’t know if it was Cait. Honestly, it could have been anyone. Cait and Griffin don’t even really know each other that well. His family has never been one that she thought worthy.” I spoke carefully, not wanting to ruin Andy and Ella’s plan. I shoved a big bite of gelato into my face, ignoring my blushing cheeks. Something Sarah didn’t miss.

  She offered a slight smile—a knowing one. “No matter who the girl was, he was your boyfriend. He should have treated you better.”

  “You’re right.” I agreed with Sarah and defended Cait, forcing the words from my lips. “Whoever the girl was is inconsequential. A stand-up guy wouldn’t do that. And even if it was Cait, she shouldn’t have been invited to sleep with my boyfriend.”

  “Cheers to that!” Sarah clinked her spoon with mine. “It doesn’t matter who she was. It matters that he’s a dipshit.”

  Sighs filled the room as relief hit. I wasn’t going to start drama.

  I was letting them all off easy.

  No one would have to pick a side or pretend to hate Cait for me, while outwardly acting like her friend so they could have lives this summer.

  Had it really come down to it, I imagined Erica, Laura, and Cora would be my friends in the end. None of them were fond of Cait, even though they couldn’t admit that.

  But Sarah would struggle with it.

  Well, all of us would struggle with it.

  All of our summers relied on Fling Club.

  So, instead of having the hard conversation, we ate gelato and laughed, pretending all was well with the world. We planned our summer flings, teased each other about possible candidates, and skated around the giant elephant in the room.

  But in spite of the lightheartedness, my heart was kind of broken, and Cait was at least partially responsible. I pretended it wasn’t her for the sake of peace, even if she was a whore-face who lied and cheated and stole and everyone knew it. Everyone knew it long before this incident. And she always got away with it.

  She was getting away with it right now, and I was helping her.

  For the moment, but not for long.

  Cait was going to get hers. And the visit with the girls was exactly what I needed to stoke the fire in me and bring out the rage.

  After they left and I closed the door to the town house, Andy gave me a curious scowl from the hallway. “So, no one plans on skipping slut club this season?”

  “Nope.” I almost beamed. “I played it perfectly. Even you would have been proud of me. I acted like it wasn’t Cait who betrayed me. I sold them all on the ‘hos before bros’ mantra like Ella said to: that it didn’t even matter who the girl was, that Griffin was really the one at fault. It will be business as usual in the Hamptons this summer.”

  “You did it? You actually convinced them you weren’t pissed at Cait?”

  “I think so. If anyone is skeptical it’s Sarah, but I can manage her. She drinks too much to be an issue.”

  “Then let’s move on to the interview portion of this plan.” His eyes glistened with devious excitement. He was enjoying this way too much. But then again, I was starting to have some fun myself.

  Chapter Six

  RICH PEOPLE

  Ashley

  “Where ya headed?” Simone, the girl in the dorm next door, asked, leaning on the doorframe and sounding like a Canadian. Everyone I’d met from Vermont did a little.

  “Off to an interview.” My lips lifted at the thought of the job description.

  “Back home?” She twirled her hair.

  “No, in New York.”

  “Holy shit, what kind of job?” She sounded surprised and impressed. I couldn’t imagine her look if I told her the truth. She was naive, hadn’t had a lot of exposure to the world.

  “Not really sure. Something to do with working for the wealthy in the Hamptons. I happened upon a job on the Post-it wall, and it promised to pay well. I shot them an inquiry, and they asked me to come for an interview.”

  “Man, good luck. All the way to New York, then back to Providence? You didn’t want to find something closer to Boston?” She said it like she was hopeful. “You could stay with me while you look. I have a sofa bed in the place I’m subletting for the summer.”

  “No, this one pays incredibly well. I need to give it a try.” I shrugged. “You know how the wealthy are.”

  “Not so much,” she said flatly.

  “They’re crazy and outlandish about how much they offer for services. They don’t understand actual costs.” I smiled as I grabbed my bag. I had only the one large suitcase; everything else had gone home to Providence a couple of weeks back when I’d been there to check on the house.

  “Hope it does pay well for all that traveling.” She rushed me, hugging tightly and pressing her body into mine. “See ya in the fall,” she whispered, too close to my face. This wasn’t the first time she’d come on to me, but I hoped it was the last.

  “Right, you will.” I pushed her back carefully, forcing he
r to a comfortable distance from me. “Have a great summer, Simone.”

  “You, too, Ash.” She sighed as I shrugged my backpack on and rolled my suitcase to the front door.

  Outside the weather was cold, weirdly so. I climbed into my Uber and sat back, worried about the money I was spending to go to New York, but intrigued by the job. The ad had been strange: bitter, off putting, and written on pink paper. As if a blunt or borderline rude girl had written it, or a guy pretending to be a girl. I wasn’t sure which.

  The email address had been even stranger. But the pay was beyond what I could make helping undergrads skate through their classes: twenty thousand dollars to spend the summer in the Hamptons pretending to be someone I wasn’t—a rich someone I wasn’t. They hadn’t even given me all the details yet, which meant they were hiding something. And that had me intrigued.

  It didn’t sound hard. It sounded weird; there wasn’t another word for it. Maybe bizarre. Essentially some rich people wanted to buy me for a lack of morals and a willingness to play along.

  At the point I was at in my life, I had decided some things were worth more than morals and self-respect. If this job was going to pay that much money, and offer me room and board and spending money and possibly the opportunity to go home to see my dad, before . . . then I couldn’t turn it down.

  Seeing my dad was worth more than morals.

  Helping my mom out with finances was worth selling my soul to do.

  Spending the last summer before school in the company of other people might even be good for me.

  Even if these were the type of people who made it easier to remain in the company of avatars.

  All I could do was hope the gig wasn’t illegal.

  There were some things I couldn’t take back and that weren’t for sale. I had lines—maybe not morals, but integrity. I couldn’t sell that.

  No matter what.

  Chapter Seven

  INTERVIEWS

  Cherry

  “So where do you normally summer?” I asked one of the questions Andy had written down.

  “Summer?” The prospect, a nerdy guy named Marcus, sounded confused. “I work for my parents’ shop all summer and stay in my old bedroom. Sometimes I go to the movies or the odd Comic-Con if I can get there.”

  Sweet Jesus save me from this moment.

  “Comic-Con.” I nodded but knew I sounded bewildered. I was lost.

  “Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Andy muttered, distracted by the girl ordering at the counter.

  “In junior year, there was a girl on the mathletes squad with me. We held hands a couple of times.” His cheeks flushed. “Why is this important?”

  “Oh, it’s just that the job entails seducing someone who could spear you and eat you alive—”

  Andy cut me off. “Mostly being able to put the moves on her.”

  “Cool. I can do that.” Marcus nodded, a little too confidently for the level of skill he was rocking. Cait would never even contemplate him. And if she did, she would chew him up and spit him out in no time.

  I kicked Andy subtly under the table and sipped my cold brew.

  “Well, we’ll be in touch. We have your email.” Andy stood, offering the guy a hand.

  “Oh, uh, okay.” Marcus got up and shook Andy’s hand, clearly squeezing and trying too hard. “Nice meeting you both.” He sauntered off, pausing like he wasn’t sure which exit to take.

  “Dear God,” I whispered.

  “The second guy wasn’t so bad.”

  “Are you kidding? He was awful,” I scoffed. “He told that same story about band camp three times. Like dating Cait will be anything like playing the flute.”

  “Okay, that was bad. But he could have been made attractive. He wasn’t a complete loss in the looks department.” Andy was reaching, and we both knew it. I didn’t even have to respond. “No, you’re right,” he lamented. “He wasn’t the one. If the next guy doesn’t work out, we might have to resort to some actor from a Broadway production.”

  “Off-Broadway, you mean,” I grumbled. Two days of this had been a wash.

  “Off-off-Broadway.” Andy sighed, cracking his neck and stretching.

  “Right,” I groaned. Even the cold brew wasn’t keeping me invested in the whole thing. I was dreading the next interview.

  “Can you do me a solid and get me a brownie, please?” He handed me a five and glanced at his phone. “I’m just gonna check my emails again and see if this next guy is even showing up.”

  “I guess. But you’re sharing it with me.”

  “No.” He handed me another five. “Get your own. Sharing with you means I don’t get any.”

  “Fine.” I snatched the money and went to the lineup. Waiting for the lady in front to finish her order, I got lost gazing at the various baked goods. The brownie was delicious, but so were the raspberry buns. I leaned into the glass case and inhaled, trying to get even a hint of them.

  “If you’re trying to decide, get a raspberry bun. They’re amazing. Worth every calorie,” a guy said quietly from behind me. “We have one of these franchises in Boston, and I absolutely love them.”

  “Yeah, I’ve had them before. They’re my favorite.” I glanced back, pausing when I took in his face. He was cute in sort of a scruffy way.

  “The amount of cream cheese icing on them should be illegal,” he said with a moan, not perversely, but like someone truly enchanted by the buns.

  “I’m sure cardiologists everywhere would agree with you.” I smiled at him, noting that I still felt a little whisper of guilt looking like that at another guy.

  “Oh, aye.” He smiled, chuckling. The way he said aye sounded foreign, but I couldn’t place his accent.

  “Can I help you?” the girl behind the counter requested impatiently.

  “What?” I turned.

  “What do you want?” she asked, irritated by my very existence, or her own.

  “Two raspberry buns, please,” I ordered, panicking, then stepped to the side so the guy behind me could order.

  “Oh, look at you.” The guy chuckled. “Getting two buns. Throwing all caution to the wind. Everyone respects a girl who gambles with her arteries. Enjoy them. While you can anyway.” He grinned. “Before the cardiologists win,” he said, before smiling wide at the barista. “I’ll have the same. Two big buns are better than one.” He winked at me, taking my breath, and any comeback I could have made, away.

  “Certainly.” The girl behind the counter grinned back at him, not even a hint of the rudeness I received evident.

  “Enjoy,” I managed to mutter like an idiot. I took my plates and sauntered back to my table.

  “What the hell?” Andy glared at the bun as I handed him his. “Brownie, Cherry. I said brownie.”

  “They were out,” I lied, and nestled back into my seat, excited for the bun and the possibility Andy wouldn’t eat his and I could have it too. He hated cream cheese, and I had a serious sweet tooth that never got enough action and was at max capacity for stress and discomfort. My favorite time to eat.

  “Whatever. I think our guy’s here, anyway. NASA shirt.” He waved at someone behind my back. “You must be Ashley.” Andy stood and offered a hand.

  Ashley? He had said guy, hadn’t he?

  I spun, stunned that the cute raspberry-bun guy was our next interviewee. He didn’t look the part, based on recent experiences. For one, he was taller, and two, he had just more of everything. While he had the thick black-framed glasses, unkempt hair, and a nerdy T-shirt like the others—this one said “NASA”—there was something about the way he held himself that was altogether different. Underneath his T, he was filled out, like he exercised. And he stood taller, sure of himself. He didn’t slouch or try to shrink inside his own body. He didn’t mind being seen or even stared at, if the girl behind the counter was any indication. And he flirted outwardly, confidently.

  “And we meet again.” Ashley grinned, and my stomach tightened. He had perfect teeth framed by plump lips, but som
e serious coffee stains to go with his coffeehouse scruff.

  “Yeah.” I sounded moronic.

  “And you must be Andy?” Ashley spoke again with what seemed to be a subtle accent.

  “Yes. This is my sister, Cheryl. Have a seat. I see we have the same pastry.” He glared at me and sat again as Ashley did. Only I remained standing, confused and momentarily stunned.

  This was our geek?

  He just wasn’t right.

  And yet he was perfect.

  He could glow up.

  There was potential in the canvas, for the first time out of all the interviews.

  But also for the first time, I didn’t want this one to take the job. He was too cute.

  I could tell right off the bat that he was funny and charming, and it would be wasted on Cait. She didn’t deserve any of it, even if Ashley would just be putting on an act.

  “Cherry, sit!” Andy barked.

  I obeyed, oddly, still stuck on Ashley’s smile and the way his dark eyes narrowed like he was amused from behind the glasses.

  “Cherry?” Ashley smirked. “That suits you better than Cheryl.”

  “Uh, thanks.” I lifted my cold brew and sipped.

  “So, tell me about this job.” His eyes dazzled, like Andy’s. Like he was already game for some shenanigans. And he was the sort of guy who said shenanigans.

  I observed them as Andy went totally off script with this one. He didn’t ask questions like he had of the others. Instead he rehashed the disgusting particulars of my ex-friend, Cait, and her betrayal with my ex-boyfriend, giving all the dirty details. It was hard not to be embarrassed that Ashley was hearing it. That he knew my sad little secret. As if this were a flaw in me and not in Griffin and Cait.

  I mentally slapped myself and repeated that old Cherry was dead. I was here now and taking names. Getting even . . .

  Ranting internally, I tore off a piece of the bun, devouring it as if eating were the same as going to war. I chewed and told myself that Cait was obsessed with me. That with any guy I even glanced at, she slithered between us and weaseled her way onto his lap. I reminded myself that Griffin had been lying and wooing and charming me from the beginning. Saying and doing all the right things, but breaking all those promises behind my back.