“Oh”—Elle hugged her again—“you need a drink.”
“Does she know me or what?” Zoey was guided away from the parking area. She turned back to Dylan to wave. “Thank you.”
When she walked into the third-floor apartment, Scar hugged her.
“Thank you for dealing with everything. I wouldn’t have made it. You’re so much stronger than I am.”
She held on to her for a moment. “I was thankful I had Dylan there.” She took a deep breath before leaning back. “I’ll be honest: the hardest part of the trip was not punching Bridgette in the face.”
Scar smiled and squeezed her hand. “I owe you.”
A glass of wine was shoved into her hands as she was pushed onto the sofa.
“So”—Elle sat down across from her—“tell us everything.”
For the next hour, she filled them in on their trip, making sure to leave out the parts about her and Dylan. Her mother showed up shortly after she’d arrived and joined the rest of them. She wasn’t a big wine drinker but sipped a glass slowly as she listened to Zoey talk. She told them what had happened with Bridgette.
“I doubt that’s the last we’ll hear from her,” Scarlett said from across the room. Her sister had her feet tucked up underneath her as she sipped on a glass of wine.
Zoey had downed the first glass as if it were grape juice—which, hey, it was—and now she took her time to enjoy her second glass.
“You’re right,” Zoey said. “Still, I don’t see the woman coming all the way to Florida to give us shit.”
They hadn’t stopped for dinner on the way back from the airport, since she’d been eager to get home, and the liquor was getting to her. Reaching down, she picked up the bowl of potato chips that had been set on the coffee table. She thought quickly about ordering some dinner but then realized the potato chips would probably fill her up instead.
“Don’t you remember?” Scarlett dug into the bowl and took a handful of chips.
“Hey!” She moved the bowl away.
“Share!” Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “There’s more, and even some brownies are left over.”
“What happened?” She handed over the bowl to Elle, who waved for it.
“Bridgette threatened her,” Scarlett said between bites of chips.
“It wasn’t a threat,” their mother chimed in, waving her hand as if to brush it off.
“Sure it was,” Scar added.
“What happened?” Zoey sat up again. “When was this?”
“During the divorce. She showed up at the hobby store, back when I was working there to pay for all those legal fees.” Her mother set her wine glass down. “She showed up and grabbed my wrist.”
“And threatened you,” Scar added.
Their mother shifted. “I told my lawyer about it, and he took care of everything. She never came around again.”
“What happened next?” Hannah asked, taking a chip from the passed bowl.
“The divorce was finalized, and your father and Bridgette moved to Vegas.” She picked up her glass and drank more wine.
“Did Dad really leave us everything?” Scarlett asked, getting up and returning with a plate of brownies.
Zoey grabbed two and bit into one before answering. “Yes. It’s going to be a while before all of his holdings are moved or sold. Apparently, the board of directors forced him to retire shortly after . . . well, according to the lawyer, after Bridgett found her way into a board meeting and started making demands on them.”
“She sounds like a charmer,” Aubrey said from her spot across the sofa. Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and every time she spoke, more strands of hair fell around her face. Aubrey taught tai chi classes after the yoga sessions.
It was hard to believe it of her delicate friend, but Aubrey had earned her black belt in both tai chi and judo. She claimed she’d started learning self-defense when she’d moved to New York to live near her father.
“That woman was always a hot mess,” her mother added, earning a round of chuckles from the room.
“Dylan had to hold me back from punching her, especially after she slapped me.”
“What?” everyone in the room shouted at once.
“Didn’t I mention that?” She sighed and rubbed her head. “Sorry, still shaking from the plane trip back.”
“Is Dylan that bad a pilot?” her mother asked. Zoey glanced around quickly and realized that her mother was easily the best dressed in the room. While everyone else was still in camp attire, and Zoey had on wrinkled clothes from the long day’s travel, her mother looked neat and stylish. Zoey knew that before she left the house, she always ironed her shirts. Who did that anymore?
“No.” She shook her head and winced as the room spun. Taking another bite of the brownie to combat the wine, she said, “He was wonderful. He talked to me the entire time he was fighting to keep the plane in the air. He kept telling me it was like speed bumps. With my eyes closed, I could just imagine us rolling over them.”
When she stopped talking, she realized five sets of eyes remained on her.
“Sooooo . . .” Elle leaned forward and poured more wine into Zoey’s glass. “What’s between you and Dylan?”
Not caring anymore, she chuckled and took another sip of her wine. Finally, she was relaxed.
“Whatever it is is going to stay between us for now,” Zoey said. “I don’t kiss and tell. Besides, my mother is here.”
Her mother eased back in her seat. “I was just leaving. I have an early . . . something.” She stood up.
“No,” everyone started, but when her mother held up her hands, they stopped.
“It’s time for old ladies to turn in anyway. Way past my bedtime. I’ll see myself out.” She turned to Zoey. “I like Dylan.” She leaned down and placed a kiss on Zoey’s head. “I’m happy you’re back safe. Night.”
She waved as she walked out.
Hannah picked back up once they were alone. “So, there was kissing.”
“Ugh! When was the last time you kissed someone?” Zoey joked back. When Hannah’s face heated, everyone’s attention moved to her.
“Who?” they all demanded.
“Stop! We’re talking about Zoey and Dylan, not me.” Hannah held up her hands.
“Spill. Two nights in Vegas—there had to be sex,” Elle said.
“I’m not telling.” Zoey shook her head again. “Tell me what’s happened around here.”
“I’ve caught the couple staying in the Love Shack four times,” Elle said, chuckling.
“Caught?” Zoey asked.
“Having sex,” she clarified. “They just do it anywhere, like dogs.” Elle groaned and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder as she tucked her long legs up under her in the chair.
“Doggy style?” Hannah always looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a magazine. Even when she was wearing sweats and had her hair in a long braid.
“Well, no, but they were doing it in the boathouse; then, when I went in to check to see about a thermostat setting in one of the massage rooms, they were there on the table; and the other night they were in the morning yoga room rolling around on the mats.” Elle groaned. “I’ve seen their asses more than I have my own in the past month.”
Zoey laughed.
“Ewww, okay, item added to my task list: make sure to sanitize the yoga mats every morning before class,” Hannah said, and everyone giggled.
“Where else have you caught them?” Scarlett asked, as if it were a game.
“The movie theater,” Elle said, ticking off her two fingers.
“We caught them on the beach that first night,” Zoey added with a smile. “Their fortieth anniversary.”
“When I’ve been married to someone that long, I only hope we have sex like they do,” Hannah added wistfully.
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Elle said as the room went quiet, and several sighs rang out.
“Any more orgies?” Zoey asked, breaking
into the moment, and all the girls laughed.
“We think there was one in one of the older cabins last night. The cleaning crew was called out this morning, and I was made aware, discreetly, of the situation,” Elle stated.
Aubrey jumped in. “Do you think that it’s just a fluke?”
“What? That old people are horny?” Zoey chuckled and almost spilled her wine, so she set the glass down. “We’re horny. I’m horny.”
“So, something did happen in Vegas?” Scar asked.
“Not talking,” she reminded the room.
Aubrey said, “It’s not that bad. I think, after that first destructive party, we’ve learned to handle things better.”
“I agree,” Elle said. “I don’t really mind. I mean, we all knew adults were going to be easier than kids, but we came into this with our eyes open. There were bound to be issues. The fact is, it was still a smart move. The numbers prove it.”
“Like you said,” Hannah replied, “there’s more money with adults. The camp can run year round instead of just the summer months. We already have bookings through the holiday season.” She smiled. “Who cares if every once in a while, things get a little . . . rowdy,” she added after a moment. “We can deal with each case when it comes up.”
“You’re right,” Aubrey agreed. “I mean, I think the worst has come and gone.”
“We could always make a fortune selling condoms,” Zoey added with a giggle.
“Or sell sex toys in the lobby,” Hannah added, earning a look from everyone. “What? Don’t pretend you don’t each own a vibrator.”
Everyone laughed. “Okay.” Zoey held up her wine glass. “To River Camp.”
“To the Wildflowers,” Elle added. “There isn’t a day that has gone by in the last eleven years that I’ve regretted bumping into the four of you.”
“Wildflowers.” Zoey held up her glass.
“Wildflowers.” Everyone toasted.
When Zoey woke the next morning, it was to a pounding headache.
“Stupid wine,” she mumbled as she slammed off her alarm clock.
“Shhh,” Scarlett said from across the room and buried her head beneath the comforter.
Remembering it was Thursday, she groaned and got out of bed. She was due to teach the beginners-yoga class in less than an hour, which meant that her wine hangover had to go away fast.
Walking blindly into the bathroom after hitting the wall once and stubbing her toe twice, she pulled off her clothes and took a deep breath. She turned on the cold water and stood under it for a full minute while screaming in her head until the water heated.
By the time she stepped out of the shower less than ten minutes later, she was wide awake and ready to go.
Stepping into the yoga classroom, she smiled at the few guests who were already rolling out their mats.
“Morning,” she said, getting everyone’s attention. “Feel free to do some stretches while we wait for the others to arrive.”
She took her time rolling out her mat and trying to warm up her muscles after the cold shower.
When she glanced up again, the room was almost full. Yoga classes were open to guests and employees if it didn’t interfere with their schedules. Zoey took turns teaching with Scarlett and Hannah, while Elle had a ballet basics class.
Zoey got everyone’s attention by turning on the light music that played in the background while she taught.
Starting with some basic poses, she called out each move and stretched as she explained the positions as she went. It wasn’t until after her body had started relaxing more that she took a moment to glance around the room to make sure everyone was following along. Dylan was stretching off to the side of the room.
Seeing him expertly perform an extended triangle pose had her smiling. When his eyes met hers, he winked.
By the time the class was over, her body was limber, and she had built up a slight sweat.
“Hey,” she said to him when she finally broke free from chatting with a few guests.
“You look amazing in that outfit.”
She could tell he wanted to kiss her, because his eyes moved to her lips. She smiled and looked down at his gym shorts and T-shirt. “I guess no one has created a line of yoga outfits for men.”
“None that I’d be caught dead in.” He chuckled. “Have lunch with me?”
She thought about it. There were questions still left unanswered between them. “Where?”
“How about we meet at the docks?” he suggested.
“I’ll bring the food. Noon?”
He nodded, then glanced down as his smart watch chimed. “I’ve got to go.” He smiled. “It was worth waking up early to see you.” He reached out and touched her shoulder. “See you at lunch.”
She watched him leave and wished more than anything to be able to spend the entire day with him, but after yoga, she had to be down at the pool to help with a new water-aerobics class they were trying, then up to the volleyball courts to run a quick beginner’s course. Her day was booked until around ten that night, since she had it on her calendar to help Damion take a few couples out on a sunset sail that evening. Damion was possibly the youngest staffer they had hired. Fresh from high school, the guy knew his stuff when it came to cleaning the pools and sailing.
She swapped out her yoga outfit for her swimsuit, jogged across the campus, and jumped into the water. She’d never done water aerobics before but had watched a few videos to ramp up.
As she was starting to work with the few women who had shown up, she glanced up to see Ryan sitting by the pool in her swimsuit. It was certainly a day for drop-ins.
However, there were rules as to what the staff could and couldn’t do. Flirting with guests was strictly not allowed. At this point, Ryan was practically sitting on a guest’s lap.
Since Zoey was busy teaching a lesson, she waited until the class was over to approach her. The woman was now lying in the sun alone.
“Ryan?” Zoey wrapped her robe around herself and pushed her wet hair over her shoulder.
Ryan glanced up as if she were being bothered. “Yes?”
The fact that the woman acted as if she didn’t know who she was set Zoey’s back teeth grinding. Taking a deep breath, Zoey sat on the seat next to her.
“I know you may not have read through all of the camp’s rules, but fraternizing with guests isn’t allowed.”
Ryan sat up slowly and removed her sunglasses. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sure Mr. Longley was very flattered, but his wife may not be. I’d hate for there to be an incident, especially considering who his wife is.” She got up. “I’ll expect better judgment from you in the future.”
“You bitch,” Ryan hissed. “You know nothing about it.”
“What I do know is that we implemented rules for our employees, and as one, you will either follow them or be asked to leave.” She didn’t give the woman a chance to respond; instead, she walked away from the pool area to get ready for the next part of her day.
She couldn’t stop herself from vibrating with anger about Ryan. Who was the woman, really? After what she’d thrown at Dylan and Liam, Zoey had checked her references herself—all smaller restaurants in Destin. But they had all checked out.
Again, she was thinking she should fire her but wanted to run it by Ryan’s direct supervisor, Brent, first. No use destroying restaurant service over one rude employee.
After a quick shower, she made her way to the kitchen to grab a sack lunch for her and Dylan and to have a chat with Brent.
“Hi, Isaac.” She waved to the head chef as she stepped into the back room. The man, who was in his late forties and from Belize, was easily one of the best chefs she’d ever met. “Two lunch specials to go, if you have time.”
“For you,” he said with a wink, “anything.”
“You’re just saying that because I sign your paychecks,” she joked.
“I’m saying that,” he said, moving closer, “because you are a beautiful woman . . . who
signs my paychecks.” He laughed. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
She glanced around. The kitchen was busy as usual. There hadn’t been a time she’d walked into the place since they had hired Isaac that it hadn’t been.
“Dylan,” she finally answered in a low tone.
“Don’t worry—your secrets are safe with me.” He patted her hand. “Two lunch specials coming up.” He disappeared just as Brent walked in from the front.
“Zoey, I didn’t know you were back.” His smile fell. “I’m so sorry about your father.”
“Thanks.” Brent was tall, dark haired, handsome as the devil, and totally in love with his husband of almost a full year. “How’s Kevin?”
“He’s good.” Brent’s smile returned. “He’s taking our dogs out to the beach today. That man would make a great father.”
“Not you?” she asked, leaning on the stool.
“Oh”—he waved her away as he worked on gathering his next order—“sure, I suppose, but some people just have it . . . you know?”
She nodded, thinking of her mother. She may not have been the best mother, but Zoey was pretty sure that any of her downfalls had been a direct result of her father. Which shifted her thinking toward Ryan and other people’s downfalls.
“Brent, you hired all of your waitstaff yourself, correct?” she asked.
“Each one.” He frowned quickly. “Is there a problem with one?”
“Nnn—no.” She hesitated.
He stopped preparing the plate he had been wiping down. “What?” he asked with his hands on his hips.
“It’s just . . . what do you know about Ryan, personally? I know her references checked out, and as far as I can tell, she’s a good employee, but—”
“Ryan Kinsley?” Brent asked, and Zoey nodded. “Personally, not a lot. Work wise, yes, she’s tidy, a strong worker, and, so far, has had no complaints against her.”
Zoey sighed. “It’s the personal side I have an issue with.”
Brent made a face. “I’ll keep a closer eye on her if you want.”
“No, thanks. I’m sure my reminder today has done the job.” She waved him off, not wanting to stir the pot too much. Although, if she knew Brent, he would be keeping an eye on Ryan anyway. “Go, serve your food.”
Summer Nights Page 18