Page 24 of Summer Ever After
Right now that’s the only pussy I need in my life. I thought to myself. Over the winter the women I’d dated had been duller than the November skies. “That’s not a bad idea.” I rubbed my chin with my free hand. “Although I’d have to hire someone to follow me around with a lint roller, and he’d probably annihilate the caviar table.”
I held out the hat for Jess. She snatched it and winced as she put it on her head, lake water dripping down her face, but she was too stubborn to take it off. A horn tooted and we both turned to see the pontoon boat departing from the main island.
Jess and I returned Trey’s wave. The passengers were all wearing matching shirts, but the boat was too far for me to tell if they were the new staff or the ones who had been with us for years. “Is Mrs. Graham on there?” I shielded my eyes from the sun.
“I doubt it. She’s been sleeping out here for the past couple of weeks. I think that she’s more nervous about the event than you are.”
I made a note to go talk to Faye. “She doesn’t need that stress.”
Jess shrugged. “You tell her that.”
“Maybe I’ll bring one of the maids as my date.” I elbowed Jess. “That will really stir things up.”
“You’re just trying to get a rise out of me.” Jess returned to her lounger. “I know that you would never do that.”
“Why not? Are you classist, Sissy?”
“Of course not. I fucked one of the landscapers last weekend,” she laughed. “But I’m not bringing him to the event of the year. No, the event of the decade.”
Trey’s stories about the women lining up for the maid job repeated in my head. It sounds shitty, but when you’re as rich as we are, you always have to wonder about people’s motives. And if the pool of new staff was filled with gold diggers, there was one thing I was sure of – I was going to stay far, far away from them.
SEVEN
DAISY
After two weeksat Starling Island and the factory job, the circles under my eyes felt as big as the canvas laundry bags Mrs. Graham was lugging from the dock to the cottage. Tara sat beside me on the front of the pontoon boat, our feet dangling over the frothy water as Trey hummed along to the country station.
“This commute is a lot better than walking to the factory in the mosquitoes.” I stuck my toe in the water that rushed beneath our feet.
Tara leaned her head back, letting the sun beat on her pale neck. “No kidding, and Mrs. Graham can be a stickler but she’s the nicest boss I’ve ever worked for.”
Over the past couple of weeks Tara and I had become close. Friendships always felt a little foreign to me, after Dad died, we hadn’t stayed in one place long enough for me to meet people. My work and school schedule didn’t leave any room for extracurricular activities, so while Chloe was cheerleading or hanging out with the football team on a weeknight, I was usually pushing a mop around under fluorescent lighting.
“She’s a softie.” I leaned back on my elbows and pulled my feet from the lake so they would be dry enough to put into my shoes by the time we reached the docks at the Starling Estate. “But, I still wouldn’t test her.”
Glancing over my shoulder to ensure that Trey was in his own country twangy world, Tara whispered. “This staff is the most loyal that I’ve ever met. Make sure you don’t talk shit about the Starlings around them.”
I had already picked up on the loyalty. There were photos in the break room with the core staff eating Christmas dinner with the Starling family – at the same table, not serving silver dishes over their shoulders. “Why would I?” I shrugged. “I haven’t even seen any of them.”
“I think that they are keeping clear from this circus.”
We pulled into the docks and the event coordinator was barking orders at several other boats arriving, loaded and practically sinking with boxes and totes of event supplies.
“If it’s this crazy now, imagine when we’re only a few days away from the ball.” Tara hopped off the boat with the line in her hand. “I’ve got the front Trey.” She held up the line.
“Good girl.” Trey cut the engine, hopped off the boat, and headed to the rear to tie it up. “They call that the bow though.”
Tara giggled. “Even though there are two pontoons, not technically a bow?” She tied the knot and pointed to the boat.
It hadn’t escaped my attention that Tara and Trey had been amping up the flirting over the past couple of weeks. “Technically, that’s not a knot.” He nudged the tangle of rope that Tara had looped around the ring on the dock.
“Show me?” Tara tugged at the rope.
Trey cleared his throat. Tara’s baby-voiced tone had clearly leaped into flirting territory. “Maybe Daisy can show you. I’ve got a meeting with Mr. Starling.” He tapped his watch and jogged away.
Tara chewed on her bottom lip as I showed her how to do a proper knot. “How do you know all this?” she asked as I showed her for the second time.
“My dad used to have…a sailboat.” We had a fifty-foot sailboat as well as a fleet of motorboats, including what I guess could be called a yacht. Now, I knew that even though one was named after me, the Rosie, none of them belonged to the family, but my dad’s stupid numbered corporation – and were likely now liquidated and the proceeds lining the pockets of the new CEO. “Now your turn.” I handed her the rope, but her eyes were trained on the shoreline.
