Fling Club (Serendipity Book 1)

by Tara Brown

  “Easy, tiger. Try chewing.” Andy spoke to me, drawing my attention to the fact they’d finished speaking and were now both staring at me.

  “What?” I blinked as Ashley lifted a napkin and reached for me.

  “You have a bit of icing there.” He wiped and smeared, proving I had more than a bit on my face.

  “I think you might be wearing more than you ate, Cherry.” Andy rolled his eyes.

  “Shut up, Andy.” I snatched the napkin and wiped my own face.

  “Yeah, Andy.” Ashley defended me, but mockingly. “She’s got a broken heart. Girls with broken hearts are allowed a bit of icing on their faces.” His smile made attempts at soothing things I wasn’t ready to have healed.

  “I don’t,” I blurted, lying. “I don’t have a broken heart. I’m fine.”

  I wished it back in my mouth the moment it left. It was the sort of lie everyone could sense but no one called out. Their eyes simultaneously filled with pity.

  “I’m going to hit the bathroom.” Andy got up and walked away, leaving us in the awkward silence he normally took up.

  “Anyway, you’re interested in the job?” I tried to fill the gap.

  “In what?” He leaned forward, offering me that grin. The one he’d given the rude girl at the counter. The one that made me feel like he wasn’t the sort of geek I was expecting. He was smooth. Just like my brother. Smart and witty and fast.

  “In the job,” I muttered back, oozing a quality of my own that was neither charm nor icing. I knew my brother long enough to know not to trust his womanizing ways. He might come across as a big nerd, but he always got the girl. I had to show disinterest, even polite disinterest.

  “Yeah.” He didn’t sound certain.

  “Even with all the dirty details?” I couldn’t believe he’d be interested. I couldn’t believe anyone would be.

  “If I’m being honest, it’s a bit of a reach for me. A little offside to trick some girl as a revenge plot. I can’t imagine a world where that stupid Fling Club exists. It sounds ridiculous, even if you can’t tell us the rules. And what self-respecting guy would want to be in on this? What a pathetic way to spend a summer. Some lapdog for a rich girl.” Ashley chuckled, sounding like my brother while my cheeks lit up, again. “But it’s your money and your mission, and I am in need of a job, so it seems like a win-win?” He perked up, sounding more sure again.

  “What do you normally do for the summer?” I didn’t want to talk about Fling Club. I knew I would have to, but seeing it from another person’s point of view wasn’t very flattering to us members.

  “My family spends summers together back home. I usually get a job at a local coffee shop. Something casual and easy, and then I do a lot of odd jobs in electronics. This summer will certainly be different.” He sat back, chuckling and folding his toned arms while staring like he was analyzing me.

  Fortunately Andy came back, rescuing me. “And where were we?”

  “I was just telling Cherry here that I think this Fling Club is distasteful.” He gave me a look like he was challenging me to defend it.

  “Oh, you have no idea. I’ve always been outside of it, looking in. I don’t really know how it works; these girls are tight lipped about the rules. But from what I’ve gathered over the years, it’s as bad as it gets. They try to use that whole ‘hate the game not the player’ mentality.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was picturing.”

  “Only maybe they wear cotillion dresses while throwing gang signs and playing tough girls.” Andy burst out laughing, slapping Ashley on the arm like he might have known what cotillion was.

  “Exactly!”

  I almost excused myself and left as they shared a series of bromantic moments that included lumping all us rich girls together as the witches of the East Coast. Man-eaters of the worst sort.

  Granted I was part of the club, but I’d never played a guy or eaten a man.

  I couldn’t vouch for Cait or maybe a few of the others, but my close friends hadn’t either. It was honestly just for fun. Even if I was now questioning my version of fun.

  As they laughed too hard at their own jokes and got along like brothers, I had to ask, “Do you guys know each other?” It came out a bit harsh.

  “No,” Andy scoffed. “But I’m pretty sure we’ll get along just fine sharing a space this summer.”

  “Like minds.” Ashley nodded, no longer laughing.

  “Hey, I have an idea,” I interjected with mock enthusiasm. “Why don’t you guys just date each other and live happily ever after? Interview time is over, or should I say, playtime is over? We’ll be in touch, Ashley. Thanks for coming.”

  “Oh, come on, Cherry. He’s got the job. Firstly, he’ll never be a sap for Cait’s charms, and secondly, he’s got the intelligence we’re looking for. Shevaun’s going to have a blast with him.” Andy laughed again. “I’m just sorry I have to miss it.”

  “Miss what?” Ashley asked.

  “Your makeover. We have to have you looking international. Someone Cait won’t be able to resist.”

  “You aren’t staying for that?” I asked, nervous about being alone with Ashley.

  “No. As much as I would love to stick around, Mother dearest has volunteered me to housesit for the Weinbergs. I’m all in this week, and then you’ll have to do next week, Cherry. I’ll have to go back to New York with Dad. You’ll stay at the Weinbergs’ the whole month, Ashley. I’ll say you’re a friend from Oxford who’s over for the summer to hang and help out. You’ll be able to come and go as you please.” Andy beamed. “After that, we’ll move into the guesthouse at our parents’ and continue the fun.”

  Our plan to ruin Cait was fast becoming Andy’s own personal plan for the best summer of his young life.

  “Sounds sharp. So, who is Shevaun?” Ashley wasn’t beaming when he asked. He sounded nervous. “And what kind of makeover?”

  Andy’s dark eyebrows formed into peaks like an evil queen’s as his eyes narrowed in delight. “Just wait. You’re gonna love it.” He winked at me.

  I suspected Ashley wasn’t going to love it. In fact, I knew he was going to hate it. His NASA shirt told me everything I needed to know about his sense of fashion. That and his near unibrow.

  This was going to be amusing, for sure—only not for him.

  Chapter Eight

  THE TOWN HOUSE

  Ashley

  “You sure you don’t mind me staying straight away?” I asked Andy as we strolled back to the town house alone. Cherry had left ahead of us. When Andy had suggested I start the job immediately, Cherry had seemed unnerved.

  I couldn’t believe she was part of the job. The redhead had caught my eye the moment I walked in, and as I’d watched her drool over the dessert counter, I started salivating as well, only not over the pastries. It was disappointing she was one of them, the rich elite. Not my type, that was for sure.

  “It’s better this way. Cherry can bring you up to speed on the devilish intricacies of our world, especially dealing with Cait and all her wondrous qualities.”

  “Cait.” I inhaled sharply, noticing the nerves filling me up with every step we took. “So, what level of wondrous are we talking?”

  “The most wondrous.” Andy lost all his humor. “My sister is one of her minions; they all do whatever Cait wants. If she says something’s cool, it is. And they all try to emulate her. None of them think for themselves. She barks, and they come running like little sheeple.”

  “And how does she keep them under her thumb like that?” I scoffed that some spoiled princess could hold so much power. I was secretly looking forward to disabusing her of that notion.

  “I don’t know. One summer she was just Cait, my girlfriend, and the next she was running the entire shoreline. Girls who attend Paulson from out of state stay all summer long to be part of the festivities. It’s bizarre,” he said with a hint of something, regret maybe.

  “You dated this girl?” Disgust and an instant loss of respect hit me. I d
idn’t even hide it in my tone.

  “I did, for a while. We were much younger then; it was years ago. She was different and I was shallow.” He shrugged. “My dad jokes that I ruined her, but honestly, she sort of ruined me.” He laughed, but I could hear the bitterness in it all as he continued, “Cheated on me.”

  I was starting to see his true motives for wanting to get revenge against Cait. Andy wasn’t just this great older brother rescuing his sister; he wanted payback for himself too.

  I didn’t know how to feel about any of this. Andy was obviously a cool guy, the kind of guy I would hang out with, and I was trying not to let his privilege taint my opinion of him.

  “After a while I began to see that she did me a favor. I had been one of the in guys up to that point. After she dicked me over, I saw everyone—and this whole world we belonged to—in a different light. It changed me. For the better.” He said it like we weren’t plotting revenge and scheming like mean girls, and then he said the most important thing he could. “And honestly, if it weren’t for Cherry, I wouldn’t be doing this. I wanted revenge against Cait, of course. But I’m a man now, not a schoolboy bent on destruction. I just need to get my sister’s self-respect and confidence back. I need to show her what the world looks like outside of the snow globe, just like I found out.”

  “She wouldn’t be able to do that on her own?” I asked as we rounded the corner of Fifth Avenue, a place where addresses mattered almost as much as breeding.

  “No,” he said breathily. “She’s spent her life being brainwashed by our mother and the society we belong to. She doesn’t stand a chance. She goes to Wellesley for God’s sake. She’s a doormat, and if I don’t save her now, she’ll end up the wife of some asshat like Griffin. The fact that she hasn’t already taken him back is a miracle. If I have to stoop to Cait’s level to bring her down and rescue my sister, then so be it. I’d do far worse for her.” He almost sounded like he owed her.

  Some, not all, of the respect I’d had for Andy when we met seeped back in. He wasn’t entirely disgusting. And this plan wasn’t completely self-serving. And because of that, I wasn’t exactly selling all my morals to make enough money to pay for a trip to see my dad and help with bills.

  We rounded the corner at East Sixty-Ninth and walked past a couple of the old mansions before he stopped at one of them. “And we’re here.” Andy held out a hand, suggesting the brick four story was his house.

  “Is this a joke?” I glanced back down the road toward Fifth Avenue, seeing the park, and started to laugh. “Oh, you’re this rich.” I didn’t quite understand what level of wealth we were discussing. Seeing Cherry, the vacant but drop-dead-gorgeous debutante, was one thing; seeing the mansion half a block from Fifth Avenue was another thing altogether. They’d seemed so normal at the bakery. I thought maybe they lived in a nice apartment in the city worth ten million or something. Not this. This house had to be worth almost a hundred million dollars.

  “Well, I’m not this rich.” Andy laughed. “But my dad and my grandpa, yes. They’re this rich.” He slapped me on the back. “Time to assume your character and start using your accent.”

  “Right, I actually have an accent. I use the American one to stop the questions about my accent.” I started using my normal accent.

  “Oh, brilliant. Then I guess the only acting will be pretending you’re part of this world. That’s what you’re getting paid to do, after all. Don’t make too much eye contact with the staff; don’t do any of the things I do. Let them serve you. It’s easier than trying to explain how you disagree with having employees run your life or the need to have a house this size.”

  “That should be easy,” I joked. “How long has your family owned this house?”

  “Over a hundred years.” He opened the front door, and I tried not to be the mouth-agape, eyes-wide-open, “fresh off the turnip truck” bumpkin I apparently was. But it was difficult.

  The foyer glistened with white-and-black-checkered marble floors and carved columns in the doorways. The dark walnut staircase leading up to the second floor was as wide as my bathroom back home, possibly my dorm room, and so glossy I could see the light reflecting off it.

  The walls were white and high, ten-foot ceilings at least, with several doorways leading off the massive square room. There was not much furniture besides two sizeable beige Queen Anne chairs and a shiny round black marble table standing on a stunning royal-blue rug. There was artwork, though, I would guess originals, all pictures of abstract flowers done in grays and beiges with a slight bit of blue on each of them. It was as if they were commissioned for the room.

  We were greeted by a man with a suit and a friendly smile. “Good afternoon, Master Andrew.” He nodded, almost bowing.

  “Richard, how are you?” He offered the man his hand. “This is my good friend, Ashley Jardine. He’ll be staying with us for the week and then coming home with us to the Hamptons. He’s here from Oxford.”

  “Very good, sir,” Richard said, uncomfortably taking his hand back and tucking it behind his back so as not to shake my hand.

  “Nice to meet you.” I smiled, noting his accent was from Kent. I knew the area well. I contemplated saying something but figured the rich wouldn’t make idle chitchat with the help.

  I tried to cover up my what-the-fuck face as we made our way to the second floor.

  Glistening walnut floors and a massive main-floor living room with several conversation pits and two fireplaces. The dining room looked like something from a castle back home. The kitchen was white and easily the size of the main floor of my house. Everything was clean and shiny and new in a way that suggested it was made over every morning.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered accidentally.

  “Take it all in. Get used to it,” Andy muttered back.

  “I don’t think I can.” I gave him a look. “This is insane.”

  “Yeah, wait until you see the beach house.” He sounded dismal.

  All my self-doubt and worry about taking this job came rushing at me. The room narrowed and widened, and I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath.

  I was out of my league, way out.

  “Oh, you’re here.” Cherry strolled into the living room, her red hair and porcelain face both striking compared to the room. She added vibrancy, and yet there was a cloud over her. If we’d just been two people in a coffee shop, buying glazed buns, I might have sat with her and asked her out and tried my best to win her over with charm and intelligence. I would have been nervous about what she was thinking under those stormy eyes and her pained expressions. I would have imagined she had all sorts of deep ideas and felt more than mere mortals. Her eyes suggested battles and wars waged inside her.

  But my worst fears were confirmed the moment we met.

  She was the job. She was a rich snob. One of them. A vapid socialite who looked pretty and did what she was told.

  Still, something in me wanted to see what she really cared about under that exterior. I had to rein myself in, remind myself that the temptingly beautiful redhead wasn’t ever going to be my type. She was a spoiled rich girl who played with men’s hearts. And those stormy eyes were a lie.

  Not that it mattered. I was the staff. She represented everything I disliked in a girl and a human. She was hiring me to trick someone else, take them down a couple of pegs, as if she and her brother were the authority on what was right or wrong.

  No, she was never going to be the kind of person I could hit on. Not if I wanted to look myself in the eye. Or worse, look my mother in the eye.

  Chapter Nine

  PROPER GENTLEMEN

  Cherry

  Sitting at the men’s salon, waiting for Ashley to finish getting his makeover, I busied myself by answering texts that contemplated the list of hotties Cait had compiled in the chat we had going on Facebook. I tried being the old, phony me, acting excited about whom I would distract myself with over the summer, but it wasn’t happening. Instead I ended up on Griffin’s Instagram
page, scrolling through his photos. He still had all the ones of us up. Pictures of me smiling like a fool. The fool I was and just didn’t know it at the time. His newer photos were weird, dark and random.

  There was one of an alleyway, like where he might have peed after a late night at the bar. It looked like he was in Boston, meaning he was still there, as the picture was posted yesterday. The newest picture was of choppy seas and a gray sky. It would have been a cool picture if an asshole hadn’t taken it.

  Curiosity got the best of me. I wondered if he and Cait were still seeing each other. I went to his contact in my Messenger and checked his location, flinching when I saw that he was in New York. In fact, the little red pin appeared to be a couple of blocks from me. The phone recalculated and showed it getting closer and closer.

  “No.” My stomach clenched as I wondered if he was looking at my location and coming this way, or if it was by chance? He went to this salon when he was in town. But why would he be in town now? He said he wasn’t coming home until a full week after me, and I had only been in New York for four days. Today was my first day alone with Ashley; it was already tough enough. Adding Griffin would really be the icing on the cake.

  Getting increasingly uncomfortable, I turned my location services off and sat awkwardly in the leather chair, no doubt looking like I wanted to run away. Sweat formed on my brow, and uneasiness crept around inside me.

  What did I do?

  What if he was coming here?

  I couldn’t face him.

  And how could I explain being at a men’s salon?

  Who I was waiting for?

  I couldn’t tell him who Ashley was or why we were here together or how we knew each other.

  I decided to leave and meet Ashley back at the house, but as I was about to get up, Griffin appeared in the mirror across from me, walking through the front door. My entire body clenched with dread. I gripped the seat and pretended not to see him and act casual, even if sweat was glistening on my brow for no reason. The air blasting in with him was frigid. We’d had the worst spring on record for temperature.