by Janna King
Hot breath grazed Mia’s neck, sending a buzz down her spine.
“I never pegged you for a wallflower.”
She turned her head to see Cole behind her. He sipped from a beer bottle. “You have all this Summer Solstice Soireeing around you and you’re standing here by yourself?”
“I’m taking it all in,” said Mia.
The jazz ensemble on the small stage started playing Katy Perry’s “Firework.” The bassist, drummer, and keyboardist at the Moog synthesizer could’ve been any seasonaire’s grandparents. The singer, two decades younger with the same nose as the keyboardist, belted out the lyrics. Her crimson-slicked mouth opened wide at the mic.
“This is a very weird cover,” Mia chuckled. “I’m sure the band was Grace’s idea.”
“Dance?” Cole held his hand out to her.
Mia balked at the empty dance area in front of the band. “No one’s dancing.”
“Let’s start a trend.” Cole took Mia’s hand. “That’s our job, right?”
“Hashtag trendsetters!” exclaimed Mia in a faux enthusiastic voice as she posted a selfie of them to her Insta Story.
Cole led her onto the parquet floor placed over the hardwood. He was a decent dancer.
“Wow. Who knew?” Mia motioned to him.
“I do have mad dance skills.” Cole moonwalked.
“Very impressive.” Mia laughed until she saw his eyes move past her. She did a rhythmic spin so she could look in that direction. Jill was talking to Mac at the bar. With the distance and the music, Mia couldn’t hear their conversation. Cole moonwalked the other way and brought Mia’s attention back to him.
At the bar, Jill frowned at the wine Mac was pouring. “Rosé? Whose hack soiree is this?”
“Do you work for Lyndon Wyld?” asked Mac.
Jill gestured to her flowing palazzo pants and silk blouse. “How’d you guess?”
“Then I’d have to say it’s your party,” answered Mac. “But you look too sophisticated to be a seasonaire.”
“Is that your charming way of saying I look old?” Jill squinted at him. “I just started managing the store. You should come in.”
“Is that a charming way to say I’m poorly dressed? Because this is a uniform.” Mac gestured to his vest and white shirt underneath. With the suspenders and the scruff, he looked like a saloon keeper in an old Western, the kind with a dead wife and a vendetta who made all the lasses loosen their corsets. “What can I get you?”
“I’m not thirsty.” Jill tilted toward him. “I’m looking for something stronger.”
Mac recorked the wine bottle. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
Jill plucked a drink umbrella from the container in front of Mac. “Rumor has it, you’re here because you can.”
Mia tore her focus from the conversation she could only see but not hear across the room. She found the rhythm with Cole.
“She takes her job way too seriously,” said Mia. “Jill.”
“I admire that.” Cole gave Jill one more glance. “I mean, don’t you think you should do your best whether you’re the president, a proctologist, or a plumber?”
“I don’t want any of those jobs,” replied Mia, amused.
“What job do you want?” asked Cole. J.P. and Jade sashayed onto the dance floor with J.P. singing. Jade put her hand over his mouth. Mia chuckled and took some rhythmic steps back away from them. Cole followed.
She danced closer to Cole. “Lyndon’s. I want Lyndon’s job.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I want to be a fashion designer.” Mia corrected herself. “According to a self-help app I downloaded, then deleted, I’m supposed to say, ‘I am a fashion designer. I’m just not getting paid for it.’”
“You’re getting twenty grand this summer. Sounds like pay to me,” said Cole.
“I barely have time to sleep, let alone design.” Mia shrugged her arms like a ragdoll. “Although the sewing machine Lyndon and Grace gave me is a start.”
The song ended and the singer slowed it down with “Feeling Good.” Cole took Mia’s hand, but instead of pulling her in for a slow dance, he steered her to two tall stools at a high table. Mia’s disappointment was palpable since everyone else seemed to be swaying against each other to the music.
“If I wanted to be a fashion designer and all I was doing all summer was chilling and going to parties, I’d hate that,” Cole teased Mia. “I mean, what could be worse?”
Mia lightened up, flicking him on the arm. Cole nudged her affectionately with his shoulder.
“Okay, so it’s fun,” conceded Mia.
“Can I quote you on Instagram?” Cole took out his smartphone.
“Sure, why not?” replied Mia. “At least you’re asking to take my photo.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” If Cole didn’t know about the post with her and Ruby, she wasn’t going to tell him. It was only a matter of time before he saw it.
He took a selfie with her and typed:
“OK, so it’s fun”— @miamamasgrl
#BeWyld #summersolsticesoiree
“I feel like a tool doing this. I didn’t have an Instagram or a Snapchat account before I landed this job.” He posted and showed Mia. She thought she saw Jill and Mac talking in the background, but Cole put his phone back in his pocket too quickly.
“What are your career plans?” asked Mia.
“I’m not sure yet. Are you asking me to decide?”
Mia put her hands up. “As someone said to me tonight, ‘I’m not your mother.’”
“Thank god, because that would be awkward.” Cole leaned close. Mia blushed. He went on, “Because I don’t know my mother. She ran off when I was seven. My dad and my grandparents brought me up.”
“Oh. That must’ve been hard.” Mia thought about her mom. She’d rather have a mother who was sick than no mother at all. She took another Aperol Spritz from the tray of a passing server and tried to push the thought of losing her mom out of her mind. She sipped. “These are so refreshing. It’s muggy in here.”
Cole looked toward the open back doors. “Let’s go outside.”
They stepped onto the deck, standing off to the side, partially hidden by a heater. Since it was a warm night, nobody gathered around it, so the two had the small block of space to themselves. The singer’s voice wafted out to them.
Cole polished off his beer and placed the bottle on a nearby table. When Mia finished her drink, he pulled her in to slow dance. Cole’s cheek grazed Mia’s. She could feel his smile.
“Does this feel a little like the prom?” he asked.
“I didn’t go to my prom,” replied Mia. “Can I ask you something? Who were you talking to on the beach?”
“Mia.” Cole pulled back. His smile disappeared.
“I’m sorry.” Mia’s response was genuine. She wished she could delete her question like a lame hashtag. “I don’t really care who you were talking to.” Their hands remained intertwined. “I just want to know if you have any interest in me at all, because I’m trying pretty hard and I’m getting mixed signals.”
Cole let go of her hand. “Listen, Mia. Summer’s just started. I’m trying to concentrate on the job because I got it as kind of a fluke. I mean, look at me.” He pointed to his face. “I’m not Grant.”
“Okay, no,” Mia shook her head with a scoff. “I’m the queen of the humblebrag and that shit doesn’t fly with me.”
“I’m serious. I’m just a guy from Detroit, lucky enough to earn some cash screwing around on Nantucket. No obligations except to sell some nice clothes. I mean, what were the chances?”
Mia looked out toward the beach. Off to the side, through a mound of thick green sea grass, she could see Ruby’s face glowing in the orange light of a vape pen.
“I get it.” Mia turned back to Cole. “I’m going for a walk. And this time, I’m not asking you to come.”
Cole started to follow her. She put her hand on his chest and left him on
the deck. Cole stood for a beat, then disappeared inside the restaurant.
Mia slipped off her sandals and held them in her hand as she stepped off the deck into the sand. Her feet slid down into the cool, grainy mounds. She made her way toward Ruby, who skipped toward the shoreline in her loose, barely-there dress.
“What up, Miiiiahhhh?” Grant’s voice startled her as he emerged from the darkness to the left of her. He zipped up his pastel plaid trousers. “Had to pee like a racehorse.” Mia looked past him and saw vacant Adirondack lounges dotting the sand. Mia caught a whiff of weed as he grabbed her by the hips.
“Come dance with me,” he begged.
“I’ll be up in a minute,” said Mia. “I’m gonna go for a swim.”
“I thought you didn’t know how to swim.”
“Then it’s about time, right?” Mia lifted his hands off her. “Especially when it’s totally dark and everyone around you is wasted.”
“You’re a funny girl.” Grant gave her ass a pat before he jogged to the restaurant. He never looked back at Ruby, who was twirling languidly, her arms in the air.
“What a beautiful night!” As she twirled, she saw Mia. “Hey, I know you!”
Mia stepped closer to her. “If you’re trying to crash the party, you’re a little far away.” They were out of the guests’ direct line of sight.
“Nope. I don’t crash parties. No one should ever be where they’re not wanted.” Ruby beamed at Mia. “But I’m happy you’re here.”
“Are you okay?” asked Mia.
“Amazing!”
“Grant’s such an idiot sometimes.” Mia waited for a response. Ruby kept twirling, rolling her wrists, her fingers swiping the air like a belly dancer.
A motor echoed off the Sound. Ruby stopped twirling. She teetered, looking toward the noise. A single headlight cut through the black night, coming toward them.
“Mermaids!” Otto rode up to Mia and Ruby on a red-and-white custom ATV. He made a half circle and skidded to a stop, spraying wet sand. “How did I get so lucky to find you magical sylph-like creatures here?” He dismounted and plucked his box camera from the net storage pouch under the handlebars.
Mia eyed the festivities at the restaurant. She wanted to go back up, but couldn’t abandon Ruby in her wasted state.
“Who are you, enchantress?” Otto asked Mia.
“Oh, I’m so rude,” said Ruby, grabbing Mia’s hand. “This is Mia. She’s a Lyndon Wyld seasonaire.”
“We met,” Mia said to Otto. “At the beach a couple weeks ago.” Ruby held her hand tight.
“A seasonaire. I could’ve called that by your dress.” Otto swiped his fingers along the waist of Mia’s dress. Now it was Mia who gave Ruby’s hand a squeeze.
“Cotton-poly blend.” Otto seemed more interested in the fabric than Mia. He snorted. “When will Lyndon up the ante to one hundred percent cotton?” He squinted at Mia. “I’m asking you, Magical Mia.”
“I don’t know,” replied Mia.
Ruby took another pull off the vape pen. She passed it to Otto, who smoked.
“Don’t you have a joint, Ruby? Or that hash pipe? The lighter, the fire, the smoke are what makes the process so fun.” Otto shook the vape pen. “This is bullshit.” He offered it to Mia, who lifted her hand.
“No, thanks.”
Ruby stuck out a hip. “Where are you headed, Otto?”
“I’m going to that boring as fuck party of yours, Mia.” He squinted at Mia, then took another hit. “But before I go up, you should let me shoot you.” He touched the box camera hanging over his chest. You’re like yin-and-yang naiads, so different but so the same.” He framed the girls with his hands. “Fuck photographers. I’m behind the lens now. All my ads are me.”
“I’ve seen your ads,” said Mia flatly.
“You don’t like them. I can tell by the tone of your voice. Unless you’re always so uptight.” Otto snickered.
Mia straightened. “My opinion on your ads shouldn’t matter.”
“No, it shouldn’t. But I’m entertained by opinions. Opinions are the most intimate way to get to know someone.” Otto looked into Mia’s face.
Ruby giggled. “I thought you were going to say, ‘Opinions are like assholes. Everybody has one.’”
Otto kissed Ruby on the lips. “I love you. You’re so silly.”
“You say that to all the girls,” Ruby giggled again.
“I do, but there’s a lot of love to go ’round.” He smoothed his handlebar mustache.
Mia’s stomach turned, though she stood as still as the owl decoys on top of the restaurant’s roof to keep the seagulls from crapping on it.
“I’m gonna go pass these out.” Otto pulled condoms from his clam-digger pants’ pocket. The shiny red wrappers were emblazoned with the WN crest. “What’s your opinion on that, Mia?”
“I don’t think you should go at all.”
“That settles it. I’m going. Never do what people tell you.” He shook his finger, then turned to Ruby. “Coming, sweetness?”
“I’m looking for a bracelet I lost today.” Ruby shook her armful of them. “I came here for lunch with Axel and Quentin and when we got back, it was gone.” She pouted. “From this season’s collection.”
Mia glanced around on the sand. “I’m like a pirate when it comes to treasure hunting.” Mia held up her hand and the Lyndon Wyld cocktail ring. “Found this. I’ll help you.”
“You’re not sharing trade secrets, are you, baby girl?” Otto brushed a lock of Ruby’s hair from her face. Her eyes shifted down toward a broken shell. Barefoot, she pressed the bottom of her big toe on its jagged edge.
“No.”
“Good.” Otto trudged up the beach. Mia lifted her phone from her mini-crossbody bag and clicked on the flashlight, shining it on the sand. She and Ruby sifted with their feet, searching for a few minutes. With the light, Mia caught three red marks on the top of Ruby’s feet, between her toes.
“I didn’t lose a bracelet,” said Ruby.
“I know.” Mia stopped sifting.
Ruby hoisted on her woven rainbow backpack and pranced to the ATV. She got on.
“What are you doing?” asked Mia.
“Going for a ride.” Ruby grabbed the handlebars.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“As Otto said, that’s all the more reason I should. Come with.” Ruby grinned.
“I can’t.” Mia glanced up at the restaurant. The deck was empty. Through the open doors, she caught Cole dancing with Jill.
“No one’s going to see you,” said Ruby.
Mia got on behind Ruby and slipped on her sandals. “Do you know how to ride this thing?”
“My dad’s in a motorcycle gang, remember?”
“Oh, right.”
Ruby pressed the Start button and turned the throttle toward her. The tires spun in the wet sand as the ATV carried both girls off.
EIGHTEEN
Inside the restaurant, the dance floor was crowded. The band ended a rousing version of the “Macarena,” which made the partiers laugh. Despite the chuckles, when the singer announced they were taking a break, a disappointed “Awwwwww” filled the room. As the band left the stage, Otto entered from the deck. He commandeered one of the empty tables.
Presley took selfies with the two female guests she was dancing with. “Come see me at the store.” She handed them discount cards. “I’m usually there Saturdays. I’ll give you first dibs on the new merch.” Her eyes moved to Otto across the room.
Jade and J.P. threw back tequilas at the bar. Jade put her shot glass down and noticed Otto. She looked back at Mac. “Two Patróns. Silver. Neat.”
Mac poured two tequilas. He garnished them with limes, his eyes on Otto. Jade reached over and grabbed a salt shaker. She started toward Otto’s table. J.P. followed.
“Stay here,” said Jade. “And get your camera ready. Video.”
“What?” J.P. looked perplexed.
She leaned in to his ear. “Do it for me.
” She bit his lobe.
J.P. let her move off. He pulled his smartphone from his pocket.
Grant and Vincent stood by the restroom hallway. At the sight of Otto, Vincent pulled a box of Gitanes from his breast pocket and headed for the front door. “I’m going for a smoke.”
Otto leered at Jade, who took long, leggy strides to his booth.
“My daddy sends his regards.” She leaned over to put the tequila shot in front of him, her frayed tank top draped to reveal her breasts. “And a drink.”
“Arsenic?” Otto snickered.
“You’re hilarious. My dad loves you.”
“He knows I don’t like to drink alone.” Otto patted the seat next to him.
Jade slid close, her leg touching Otto’s.
Otto looked into her eyes. “I always said your parents made beautiful babies.”
At the bar, J.P.’s brow furrowed as he held his smartphone low and filmed. The band started to play again, so he couldn’t hear Otto and Jade’s conversation. But he didn’t need to. Jade leaned back. Otto poured a small mound of salt on the top curve of her cleavage. Jade laughed. He licked it off, then shot the tequila and sucked on the lime.
Presley approached Mac at the bar. “We have an infiltrator.” With a disgusted expression, she looked toward Otto, who cuddled closer to Jade. Mac had been watching “The Jade and Otto Show” while making two Manhattans. He placed the Manhattans in front of two millennials who were making out at the bar, like many of the other intoxicated guests. Some had gone back to dancing, including Cole and Jill. Mac walked around from the bar and across the floor to the Otto’s booth.
Grant sidled up next to J.P. “Some entertainment up in this bitch!” He nodded toward Mac. J.P. stopped filming, slipping his phone back in his pocket.
Mac reached the booth. “Mr. Hahn, this is a private party. Invitation only.”
Otto looked up and tilted his head to touch Jade’s. “This gorgeous creature invited me.”
“You’re gonna get me in trouble, Otto.” Jade offered a full-throated laugh.
Mac was laser-focused on Otto. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”