by Tara Brown
Andy came into the room, pulling on a sweater and sitting down.
“No,” Ashley gasped sarcastically.
“You joke, but you should be on the lookout. She’ll be putting the moves on you next.” Andy laughed. “It can get a bit ridiculous here.”
“She’ll come on to me?” Ashley lost his grin, checking with me.
“She might.” I shrugged. “You’re fit and handsome and tall and toned, and your eyes—” I stopped myself before I started describing more personal details.
“That would be embarrassing.” His cheeks flushed with color.
“Don’t you have a home to return to?” Andy turned to me, making it clear that he was ready to finally have Ashley to himself.
“Yeah.” I gasped. “Shit! Hans is still in the driveway.”
“No, he left.” Andy got up and sauntered to the front door.
“Okay, I’ll call him to come get me.”
“Nonsense. I’ll drive you,” Ashley said quickly. “I can take you now.”
“Oh—” I tried not to react to his wanting me to go. “I’ll get my things.” I turned and left the room, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. I’d already packed my bags myself, since the house was almost entirely devoid of help, so grabbing my things took but a moment.
When I arrived at the front door, Ashley wasn’t there, but Andy was. “Don’t worry, Cherry. She’s going down.”
“What?” I asked, dragging my own bags.
“You acted weird tonight, and I know it’s because you’re worried about this scheme not working. But you don’t need to. We’ll be fine. We got this.” He said it casually as he sauntered back over to his chair.
“Right. See ya later.” I turned and left, dragging my bags outside to where Ashley was with the car.
He hurried forward. “Hey, let me get those.” He grabbed my suitcases and brought them to the trunk.
“Thanks!” I turned and climbed into the car, feeling anxious.
He got in and smiled at me. “I haven’t ever driven a car this nice before.”
“Well, get used to it.” I smiled and stared at my hands.
“I wanted to tell you, you were right.”
“About what?” God, was he about to tell me how gorgeous Cait was?
“I wasn’t mentally prepared for how awful it all was. At all. I don’t think I’ve ever met such dreadful people. Your dad seems great, and Mr. Swenson is cool. But your mother and everyone else in that place were terrible. Those movies you made me watch were accurate.”
“Yeah.” I wrinkled my nose. “I did warn you. Heathers, Cruel Intentions, Valmont, and Dangerous Liaisons are my sister’s favorites. She made me watch them over and over. I thought she wanted to be like them, but then I realized she was trying to give me some perspective.”
“Yeah, I was unprepared for the level of peacocking and the fake everything. Smiles, breasts, lips, cheeks, hair, tans, kindness. There were very few genuine people, and you could see it instantly.”
“It’s pretty bad.”
“Where am I going?” he asked after a second. “I got so excited to be leaving the house after our movie marathon week, I forgot to get directions.”
“Oh, shit, right. Sorry.” I started to laugh after I realized he was driving the wrong way. “It’s the opposite direction. I’m so used to—” I shook my head and stopped myself from sounding pretentious. “It’s about ten minutes down the road. Stay right along the shoreline.”
“You’re so accustomed to people driving you that you didn’t notice we were going the wrong way?” His tone was mocking.
“I just assumed you knew where you were going, like everyone does.” I didn’t want to own to what he’d said.
He chuckled and turned around, and the weird silence that we always seemed to end up in took over the car.
After a few minutes, I glanced at my phone, trying to look like I didn’t mind the silence. I had handfuls of texts asking me about the cute guy at my table tonight and if he was coming to the fling meeting. My insides clenched as I contemplated what to say. Of course he was coming; he was bait.
“So, who will you end up with if I get paired with Cait?” He asked the question I hadn’t even given any thought to in days.
“I don’t know. I guess one of the others at the party.” I shrugged, acting like I wasn’t dreading all of this now.
“Will he be your date for real?” He glanced at me.
“I don’t know,” I answered again, feeling too many emotions. “It’s two houses to the right.” I pointed just ahead of us.
“Oh.” He sighed.
“Will you be able to find your way back?” I realized how weird it was that he was driving me, and that he didn’t know the Hamptons at all. For a minute, I’d been able to tease myself that he’d been part of the tapestry here all along.
“Yeah, I think so. I have Andy’s cell number if I can’t,” he muttered, sounding down as he pulled in. “Holy shit!” he said at the gate as one of the guards saw my face and opened it for us. “This is your house?”
“My parents’ house.” I didn’t understand the question.
“It’s bloody massive!” He leaned forward as we drove up. “It’s like five of the Weinbergs’ house in one.”
“Right.” I nodded, thinking it was probably closer to six or seven of it.
“Oh my God. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a house this large,” he said as he parked and Hans rushed over to open my door. “It looks like a hotel.”
“I guess.” I tried to downplay his surprise, suddenly feeling self-conscious of the unnecessary opulence.
“Miss Cheryl, I didn’t realize that you had wanted to come back,” Hans said, sounding upset.
“No, it’s not your fault. I changed my mind and decided to come home. Sorry, I should have said something.” I smiled and patted him on the arm as he grabbed my bags. “Thank you, Hans.”
Ashley got out of the car but stood by its open door, staring at me.
I walked over to him; I didn’t know why, but I did. “Thank you for the ride.”
“So, you’ll stay here then, from now on?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I exhaled the word awkwardly.
“Okay.” He stared, and I stared, and we were awkward, and it sucked. “But I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“You will.” I smiled, stuck on him in every way I could be. I’d never felt like this with anyone before. I stood on my tiptoes and placed my hands on his chest, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. I lingered; it might have been inappropriate, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was horrible that we were about to be apart for the first time in two weeks.
“I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” he whispered, pressing his face into the kiss. “I just don’t see Andy making cosmos or charcuterie boards with the same flair.”
“No, it’ll be a lot of nachos and beer, I’m afraid.” I smiled.
“Just not the same quality.”
“I’ll miss you,” I admitted boldly. What did I have to lose? We were alone, and this was his last night to possibly be mine.
“Not as much as I’ll miss you and the entertaining way in which you win chess.” He swallowed a lump in his throat, or words he shouldn’t say. Either way, we stood, staring, speaking in glances and clinging to each other.
“Cherry!” My dad’s voice broke the moment. “Ashley, come inside. Have a drink.”
“Say no,” I whispered, so my father couldn’t hear.
“Thanks, Mr. Kennedy, but I have to get back. I left poor Andy at the Weinberg house, and they don’t even have cable. I don’t want him getting himself in trouble. Idle minds and all . . .”
“Well, you boys make your way back here for dinner tomorrow night before the big party at the Landrys’.”
“Thank you, sir.” He waved as my dad went inside, then looked once more at me. “Good night.”
“Good night.” I squeezed his hand and left. Every bit of me was colder than I’d ever been.
/> Chapter Twenty
THE QUEEN OF CLUBS
Cherry
Lying back in the chair, I fanned myself lightly. The heat had come out of nowhere. We’d woken up and summer was here, skipping spring completely.
I glanced over at Ella in her black skirt and tank top and wrinkled my nose. “You must be sweating.”
“I am.” She shrugged. “It’s good for you. I read sweating is the body’s natural way of cleaning and cooling. So technically I’m cleansing.”
I chuckled, but Mom lifted her head and scowled. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Why don’t you swap out reading for more important things, like a social life? Maybe Cheryl could get you into the club, even if you’re not a Paulson girl.”
“No way! Ella’s too cool for the club.” I winked at my sister.
“Cheryl, darling. Don’t argue. It’s a good idea and about time she joined. It’s your final year; you have sway. And her joining will keep us connected.”
“Not likely.” Ella rolled her eyes and ignored Mom, who was still carrying on.
“What a lovely event last night. I adore your father, Rachel. He’s a wonderful man. And your brother is a sweet boy. Very handsome. I thought for sure he was older than seventeen.”
“Yeah, Ryan’s cool.” Rachel nodded along, fanning herself as well.
“He sure is, isn’t he, Ella?” I narrowed my gaze, certain I hadn’t been mistaken.
“Who?” she asked through a huge grin.
“Ryan, darling. Rachel’s brother. He’s a nice boy, isn’t he? And your age.” Mother hinted as subtly as a car crashing into you.
Rachel watched Ella for a second before blurting, “My brother is crazy about you, you know!”
Ella’s cheeks instantly flushed. “What—that’s impossible.” Suddenly it was Ella who was sputtering, awkwardly too. “He can’t possibly already—”
“It’s true.” Rachel sighed. “He didn’t sleep last night. Just don’t make him suffer. He doesn’t believe me that you’re not into guys, so you’ll have to tell him yourself.”
“What?” I burst out laughing because people always assumed Ella was gay.
“You know, being into girls and all.” Rachel was serious.
“Who?” Ella looked up casually. “Me? Oh, no, I’m—”
“Into girls?” Mom started some kind of sputtering-and-spilling-her-drink act. “Ella—honey—you aren’t into girls? Are you? Is this why you asked to go to that school in Manhattan?” She started shouting. “Ella, for God’s sake, stop laughing! Cheryl! Will you both stop laughing? Someone explain this right now! Are you coming out?”
I was cry-laughing and trying to explain, but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth.
Finally, through her own laughter at our mother’s dramatics, Ella managed to spit out one statement: “Not gay.”
“Oh, shit!” Rachel’s jaw dropped. “Oh, God. I just thought—someone said—”
“No!” Ella was waving her hands, trying to stop laughing at Mom.
“Oh, thank God.” Mom sighed, showing a little too much homophobe in her hemline. “Oh—um—not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, sweetie.” Mom downed her entire drink and wheezed a little as she poured herself more. She honestly was one of the worst people ever.
Rachel’s hands still covered her mouth, but she managed to speak through her fingers. “I didn’t mean to assume. I hate it when people assume.”
Ella snickered more. “It’s whatever.” She wiped some of the smudged mascara off. “Seriously, that was awesome. Did you see Mom’s face?” Ella laughed right at our mother. “Mom, you turned purple. I thought your head was going to explode.”
Mom fanned herself and took another big drink. “Stop making jokes out of it.”
As we all calmed back down and Mom stopped twitching, Ella glanced over at Rachel and smiled. “So, I guess that’s why Ryan asked me out for dinner. We’re going for a burger down on the boardwalk later.”
Mom gasped. “You’re going out with a boy? Wear pretty underwear, just in case.”
“Okay, stop making a big deal about it. It was funnier when you were just being insane.” Ella sighed as she got up and left us.
Rachel’s face was still bright red.
“Stop feeling bad. Being assumed to be homosexual isn’t offensive.” I tried not to look right at my mother while saying it. “Her best friend’s gay. Ella gets it all the time, just not in front of our parents. She hangs with a herd of chicks and does roller derby for fun. She goes to gay clubs. She’s—”
“She does?” Mom looked like she might start the exploding thing again.
“Yeah, like I said, her friends are gay. She goes to be a wing woman.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I waved my mom off.
Wincing, Rachel got up and poured herself a glass of iced tea, but only got half a glass before the pitcher was empty.
“Leah.” Mom gave the maid a heated look. “Didn’t you see that the pitcher was nearly empty?”
Leah rushed over.
“We can get ourselves drinks, Leah. It’s cool. Actually, it’s hot. Go take a break inside. Get yourself a drink. Take a load off. It’s too hot to work out here.” I forced a smile while taking deep breaths. Being around Ashley all week and doing things for ourselves had been nice. And I appreciated the break from constant watching.
Not to mention my mom drove me nuts, and rarely did I let it get to this point, but her outward mistreatment of others was where I drew the line. Ella was good for her. She made her have the uncomfortable conversations she tried to avoid. To accept that being gay or a feminist or a democrat weren’t things that people had to keep private.
“She’s right, Leah, dear. It’s hot as sin out here. Go inside.” Mom got up from her chair, staggering slightly as she walked inside. She came back with a full pitcher of iced tea, tiptoed her way over to us, and filled everyone’s glasses. As if it were her idea all along.
I held my glass up. “Cheers.”
Mom lifted hers too. “Cheers, girls. To the very best summer of your lives. The last free one you’re ever going to have.” She sounded bitter and dreamy.
Rachel nodded toward the pool. I shrugged back, but before I could suggest a swim, Henry walked out onto the deck. “Miss Caitlyn Landry is here to see the young ladies.” He barely got the words out before the devil herself sauntered over.
My mother stood up. “Caitlyn, how wonderful to see you.”
Cait walked over in her prim little dress and perfect hair. She and my mother exchanged fake kisses. “Thank you, Mrs. Kennedy.”
“Have a seat, dear.” My mother pointed at the lounger across from us. Leah ran and got it and put it next to ours.
“Thank you.” Cait sat down, taking a spiked iced tea. “Cherry, how are you?”
“Fabulous. And yourself?” I tried not to snarl or throw my glass in her face or jump on her and choke her out.
“Excited about tonight.” She glanced at Rachel. “Hello, Rachel.” It was funny to watch her be nice for the sake of winning over a boy. It made her mortal for a few seconds. “Did you have fun last night?”
“I did. It was interesting.” Rachel chuckled. “Thanks again for letting me join.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure, isn’t it Cherry? We always try to invite the girls who are new to the area. Welcoming arms and all.” That was a lie.
“Very thoughtful of you.”
“How are you liking it here?”
“It’s stunning. My mother always liked it here, so Dad thought we should come and stay, experience a small part of her. My grandparents have a house here, so we bought near them. Since my mother died, they’ve been a bit sentimental.” Rachel answered the question like she was talking about a pair of shoes she’d bought, not a parent she’d lost. I didn’t know how to take that.
“I noticed you have a younger brother.”
“Yeah.” Rachel swallowed hard. “I do.”
“Will you be invoking the fifth rule?”
“Yeah, he’s only seventeen.”
“That’s good.” Cait nodded. “Anyway, part of the reason for my visit is to talk to you, Cherry, and make sure you’re planning to bring that guy from your table last night.”
Rachel looked horrified. I was hardly shocked that Cait was going for the throat and not pussyfooting around a little more. But she could do whatever she wanted.
“I wasn’t planning on it. When I asked him last night, he said he wasn’t interested if Andy couldn’t partake in the festivities.”
“Oh, how disappointing. Well—” She paused, like she needed this moment of thought. “Why don’t you bring Andy then. The more the merrier.” She flashed that winning smile.
My blood boiled as my mother patted me on the knee.
“What an honor to have the queen of clubs personally invite my baby boy.” She winked at Cait.
I threw up a little in my mouth.
Rachel gave my mother a dire look, not aware of our evil scheme.
“Of course.” I grinned back, doing the dance. “I know that would make Andy happy. And Ashley would like to meet new people; it’s hard being in an unfamiliar place. What better way for him to make genuine friendships than by introducing him to genuine people.” I might have sounded like a vise grip was around at my throat. Really it was an evil python who had me in her clutches. Only I had to remind myself I had a secret weapon this time.
My mother clapped her hands. “Excellent. What an excellent match. Ashley is a wonderful young man. Just last night when we were dining with him, I had thought he and Cheryl had taken a liking to each other. But being chosen by the queen of clubs is a far better prospect than that.”
That being me.
Me being the lesser prospect.
For the guy I actually liked.
I wanted to tell my mother that I might as well date Ashley first, as Cait was such a fan of my sloppy seconds. I wanted to rub that in Cait’s slimy face.
But I didn’t.
Not yet.
Not yet.
I whispered that mantra to myself over and over and over.
