Page 84 of For Pleasure Or Worse

chapter thirty

Natalia

Mateo could charmthe pants off a department store mannequin, but for all intents and purposes, today I was a Victorian era lady-in-waiting. He would have to get through layers of me. Corset, chemise, bodice, those really long fucking underwear made of wool that were virtually impenetrable.

We left the pool party, mid-afternoon siphoning into a cooler early evening, and our party of five dipped into a dazzling casino with the boys hot on our heels. I didn’t mind that they were keeping us in sight; it was easier to manage the scavenger items, and it upped the pressure to perform. The Swan boys had proven they were willing to do just about anything to win.

“Let’s play to our strengths,” Phee suggested. “Gambling tables, men,drunkmen, money, pretty girls in dresses—” she rambled off. “One of you Russos is our only chance at checking dice blowing off the list.”

There was no shortage of card games on the vast carpeted floor. The stench of cigarettes and citrus was overwhelming as little billows of smoke lifted out of ashtrays beside the sedentary customers at the poker tables. The last I’d seen Mateo, he had disappeared between a row of slot machines the size of SUVswith his brother and the time was as good as any to try to get ahead.

Camilla straightened her pink dress at the seam and tightened the halter, lifting her boobs just so. I was so used to seeing her in more conservative, pediatric unit hospital garb, it was almost alien watching her let her too stiff slicked-back ponytail down for the night. Having fun was something I didn’t know she was even capable of. For my entire life she was all business. The perfectionist eldest daughter. A lot of the time it felt like the world wasn’t serious enough for her, but she might not have had the chance to experience it any other way.

“Dad taught me how to play craps when I was a kid,” Cami said. A game was ongoing nearby. A small crowd had gathered to watch a pair of dice being tossed into a deep-set green felt table.

“Did he really?” I asked.

“I think it was his very misguided way of finding a common interest with me. Or one of those rare times he actually had to parent and didn’t know what to do without a nanny or Mom around.”

Bella laughed sardonically. “Sounds about right. Gambling 101 with John Russo. I’m convinced Mia and I were only born to entertain you like a pair of Baby Alive dolls.”

“And Natalia was their last attempt at a boy,” Mia added.

“Explains the resentment,” I mumbled. “At least you got a cool party trick out of the deal, Cami.”

She jokingly bowed to us. “I’ll go do my civic slutty scavenger hunt duty. Looks like this guy could use some luck anyway.”

“We’ll be here cheering you on,” Phee spurred her. “I believe in you!”

Camilla walked purposefully over to the game table, lingering on the outskirts with one of her French-tipped fingernails to her lips as though she was in deep, thoughtful contemplation. The man waiting drearily for his next turn couldn’t keep his eyesoff her. Sneaky, diabolical, doe-eyed Camilla. The easiest way to hook a man was by making him think he could teach you something.

Sure enough, the idealistic betting man in his oversized suit jacket and salt-and-pepper hair crooked a finger at Camilla and called her over to his side. She started asking questions, pointing at the lines and the curves on the table, basically shimmying herself right into the man’s side pocket, and excitement surged in unfamiliar ways inside my chest. Yes, because I realized she was a shoe-in for the ticket item, but also because I might have had something in common with my older sister. She turned on the charming confidence in ways I recognized in myself, like I did on camera. It was all for show. A hidden talent, a secret superpower.

On his next toss, Camilla shuffled to the edge of the board, gesturing at the two red dice in the man’s hands. She leaned in, breezing her luck and charm all over them and my mouth parted in a cheek-splitting grin.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Did you get that on camera?” I tapped on Ophelia’s shoulder. She was holding her phone horizontally, zoomed in and recording the entire thing, then zipped it away into the group chat before the roll had even settled on the table. Cami and the mystery gambler exchanged a very awkward double high-five as it was clear he expected more, and Mia took it upon herself to step in and save our oldest sister from her suitor.

Camilla ambled back to the group and without even thinking about it, I threw my arms around her neck for a hug. I couldn’t see Camilla’s face, but judging by Bella’s pinched eyebrows and clamped teeth, she was just as confused and uncomfortable as we were.

We did not hug.

Unofficially. Our family was not doting, or tender. It was just how we were raised. Thinking about it, I hadn’t seen anyone in my family show affection in a physical way. It was like getting my fingers caught on a piece of tape and flicking my wrist until it flung off.

Shockingly, Cami slowly but surely returned the embrace, tightening her forearms at the center of my back.

“I got that on camera, too,” Phee announced just as the flash shuttered. Cami and I parted, brushing each other off like a film of dust. “Oh my god, girls, is it hug time?” Ophelia pressed forward with open arms and my sisters curled in on themselves. “I knew I could successfully orchestrate team bonding.”

“You are exactly like that little Troll doll,” Mia said. “The pink one that sings and makes scrapbooks and drives everyone crazy.”

“Poppy,” Ophelia said proudly. “My students love that movie, so even if you mean it differently I’m taking it as a glowing compliment.”

“As you should,” I assured her. “Any type of acknowledgment from Mia is a compliment, because she will simply pretend you don’t exist if she doesn’t like you.”

A deep laugh rumbled behind me. It was familiar and conceited and could only belong to Tyler Swan, who had snuck up on us holding a soft pretzel. The remaining men were close behind. I ripped off a sliver of the salty bread and shoved it in my mouth.

“So she likes us,” Tyler repeated. Mia huffed and tried to take a piece of the pretzel but Tyler pulled it close to his chest. “This cost fifteen dollars, and legend says if I don’t eat it I’ll turn into a big green monster in purple shorts.”

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