I felt my cheeks heat up.
What’s that about? Pipe down, Raven. You don’t have a chance in hell where that’s concerned.
“Gavin is really nice, actually.”
She glanced over at me. “That’s it? Really nice?”
“He’s…” I decided to be honest. “He’s sweet…and hot.”
“He is a very good-looking guy. Weldon, too, but you tend not to notice it as much because of his personality. Gavin is a good egg. I’ve known them since they were small, and your initial assessment is correct on both. It’s amazing how kids can take after different parents. Gavin is all Gunther. And Weldon…he’s the clone of Ruth.”
The thought of Ruth made me shiver. “She’s such a bitch. And what’s up with that diamond necklace she always wears? It’s like she wakes up and puts it on. I saw her wearing it the other day in her pajamas.”
“Harry Winston. Ruth likes to flaunt her wealth. That necklace is her way of identifying herself as above everyone else.”
“She’s so snobby. And rude.”
She shook her head. “I’ve been dealing with that woman for years. The only reason she hasn’t fired me is because Gunther won’t let her.”
“You know, she saw me talking to Gavin and gave me the dirtiest look.”
“Well, believe me, she won’t let you anywhere near him, if she has her way.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.”
CHAPTER TWO
* * *
RAVEN
When I arrived at the house the following day, I had my work cut out for me. The Masterson boys were having a pool party. Great. A bevvy of beautiful, blond girls in skimpy bikinis hung around the large, in-ground pool. At first, I thought Gavin was nowhere to be found, but then I realized he was just hidden behind a collection of said girls surrounding his lounge chair. One of them, in particular, was hanging all over him.
I hated that it made me a little jealous. You’d better get over that one real quick.
It was bad enough that I’d overheard these girls while they were changing in the bathroom earlier—gossiping about Gavin’s sexual prowess, among other things I pretended not to hear. I’d managed to avoid going outside.
Then my mother appeared and said, “Raven, take these fresh towels out to them, and find out if they want anything to drink or eat, either from here or elsewhere.”
Shit.
Begrudgingly, I walked out there. The sun beat down on me as water from the pool splashed my feet and soaked my shoes. I tried to just leave the towels on one of the empty lounge chairs so I could escape back into the house, but then I remembered Mom had asked me to find out if they wanted anything.
Even though we were housekeepers, we were in charge of everything from shopping to serving guests—anything aside from wiping asses. Normally, I didn’t mind any of it. But catering to Gavin and Weldon’s whores was the last thing I wanted to be doing.
I coughed out the words, “Does anyone need anything?” My voice was higher than normal, a disingenuous expression of niceness.
While I’d hoped no one would hear me, the opposite occurred. Each person started talking over the other with requests—from Starbucks runs to sandwich orders. It was impossible to keep it all straight.
Gavin finally emerged from beneath the harem surrounding him. “Whoa. She’s only one person. Pick a place.” When no one seemed able to decide, he said, “Fine. I will. Starbucks.” He handed the girl next to him his phone. “Type in what you want, then pass it around.”
After everyone had entered their orders, Gavin took the phone back.
Then he threw on a T-shirt and nodded. “Let’s go.”
“You’re coming with me?” I asked as I followed.
“Yeah. You shouldn’t have to carry all of their shit. You work for my parents, not them.”
Gavin led us to a shiny black Mercedes parked out front. I typically drove my mother’s old Toyota Camry to run errands. I’d never been inside a ride as nice as Gavin’s.
He disarmed the car alarm, and we got in. The leather felt hot against my skin, and the interior smelled of Gavin’s woodsy cologne—intoxicating and arousing. It felt sort of dangerous to be in here.
I turned to him. “You didn’t have to come with me. I could have handled it.”
Putting his seatbelt on, he said, “I needed a break.”
He then turned the ignition and took off faster than I was expecting.
“You seemed pretty happy to me,” I told him.
His brow lifted as he glanced over. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, you had a harem of beautiful girls flanking you. What guy wouldn’t be pleased with that?”
“Being a rich prick does have its perks, but it’s not always what it looks like.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’ll give you an example. Did you see that blond girl next to me?”
I laughed. “You’ll have to be more specific. They’re all identical.”
“I guess that’s true, huh? Anyway, the one in the green bikini who was stuck to me the whole time?”
“Oh…yeah.”
“That’s my ex-girlfriend from high school.”
“Okay…”
“You know the guy wearing the orange board shorts?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s my former best friend, her current boyfriend. I’m sure you can put two and two together.”
“She cheated on you with him?”
“Not exactly. We broke up after I went away to London. I used to go to the high school here before my mother decided boarding school was a better idea. Anyway, I came home that first summer to find them together.”
“That sucks. And now she’s flirting with you in front of him. What a cunt.”
He laughed. “Which one, her or him?”
“Both of them.”
“You’ve got a dirty mouth, Raven. I like a girl who’s not afraid to say cunt.”
“It just came out. They deserve each other. Why do you even invite them over?”
“None of that really bothers me anymore. Those days seem like forever ago. I’ve moved on. These are just people I grew up with. I’ve known them since we were kids and can’t seem to get rid of them. They all live nearby and just come over uninvited.”
“What about the other girls? Are you dating any of them?”
He hesitated. “I’ve hooked up with a couple in the past.”
I couldn’t help but add, “At the same time, apparently.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I overheard an interesting conversation when your friends were changing in the powder room this morning. They were comparing notes and might have mentioned a certain threesome.”
They also mentioned how huge you are.
He rolled his eyes. “Great.”
His ears turned a little red. I found that interesting, because he didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who got embarrassed about stuff like that. But apparently he did.
“That was one time. It was stupid. I’d gotten a little drunk and—”
“Yeah. You don’t need to explain.”
“Anyway, I’m not currently involved with any of them. That was a long time ago. It would be nice if they weren’t blabbing where people can hear them in my parents’ house, though.” He seemed genuinely irked.
“Trust me. Girls are worse than guys,” I said.
“Oh, I have no doubt. Especially those girls.”
We pulled up to the drive-thru. He turned to me. “What do you want?”
Caught off guard, I shook my head. “Oh...I shouldn’t.”
“What do you want?” he repeated.
“A grande, hot caramel macchiato.”
He spoke into the intercom. “A grande, hot caramel macchiato and a triple shot on ice, please.”
“Anything else?” the woman asked.
“No, thank you.”
“What about everyone’s drinks?”
“They can wait. Let’
s have ours in peace first.”
Huh? This was becoming an interesting outing.
She gave him the drinks at the next window, and he handed me mine before proceeding to the parking lot, finding a shady spot to park, and blasting the AC.
I took my first sip of the hot, foamy liquid. “Thank you.”
He rested his head against the seat. “Ahhh...this is nice.”
“It doesn’t bother you to leave your friends hanging?”
“Not in the least. If they need their coffee that badly, they can go into the kitchen and make some.”
I chuckled. “How did you end up so different from your brother?”
“Oh. I heard the nanny dropped him when he was a baby.”
“Really?”
“No. Just kidding.”
“I might have believed it.” I sighed, looking down at my cup. “Well, this is a nice, unexpected break. But I’m certain your mother would flip out if she knew you were here with me.”
“She doesn’t have to know.”
He made no attempt to downplay what her reaction would be: irate.
“Yeah, pretty sure I’d be toast.”
He frowned and changed the subject. “What do you like to do for fun, Raven?”
I didn’t have to think long about my answer. “Jiu-jitsu.”
His eyes widened. “No fucking way…like, you could kick my ass?”
“Maybe. Don’t make me want to, and you’ll never have to find out.” I winked.
“Well, damn. Tell me more. How did you get into it?”
“I walked by the studio one day a couple of years ago, looked through the window at someone pinning someone else down, and thought it might be fun to try. So I signed up for classes, and the rest is history.”
These days much of the money I made went to martial arts classes.
“Do you do it to protect yourself?”
I shrugged. “There’s this misconception that the only reason girls might learn it is for self-defense. I mean, that’s a benefit, for sure. I don’t live in the greatest neighborhood, and it’s nice to know I’d have a chance to defend myself if something were to happen. But that’s not the primary reason I do it. It’s just…fun. It’s amazing what the body can do, like being able to choke someone out with your legs.”
“Damn. Remind me not to fuck with you. No offense, but you’re tiny. I would never have imagined you could pin me down.”
“That’s the thing about jiu-jitsu. You don’t have to be big to be a master. I can submit people who are nearly twice my weight.”
His eyes practically bugged out of his head. “Fuck. Is it wrong that I kind of want you to try that on me?”
An image of holding him down and straddling him flashed through my brain. Not sure why his hand was around my neck in that little fantasy.
I swallowed, feeling flushed. “What about you? What do you do for fun?”
“Not sure I can top that.”
“Do you do any sports?”
“Fencing and lacrosse.”
“Fencing is considered a martial art, isn’t it?” I asked.
“There’s some debate about that. In certain ways it is—the marksmanship, using cover and concealment. But at the same time, it’s a sport. I basically just try not to get stabbed. It’s a good way to get my frustration at Weldon out.”
“Wow. Yeah.” I laughed. “What else did you do in London?”
“I like improv.”
“That’s, like, where people make shit up as they go along?”
“Yup. Exactly.”
“You go to watch those shows?”
“No. I like to do it. I like to perform.”
“Really? That’s so cool. Where?”
“There was this club near my school. I convinced the guys who run it to let me play along, even though I was the youngest one there.”
“It must be so hard to think off the top of your head like that.”
“Yeah, but that’s what makes it fun. You’d be surprised what your mind is capable of under pressure. And there really is no wrong way to do it, because when you fuck up, it’s even funnier.”
“Do your parents know you’re into that?”
“I’ve mentioned it once or twice. My father thought it was cool. My mother doesn’t have much of a sense of humor to appreciate it.”
“Yeah. I can see that.”
Speaking of his mother…as much as I wanted to stay here with him, I was getting a little nervous being away from my post back at the house. My mom would also wonder where I was. I always worried about how my actions would reflect on her.
Still, we stayed in his car talking for a while longer before I finally looked down at my phone. “We should probably get going.”
“Do we have to? I much prefer sitting here and talking to you. It feels good to have a real conversation for once, instead of listening to how old you have to be to get Botox or the best place to get your nails done on the island.” He sighed. “But I guess I should get you back so no one gives you shit.”
Gavin started the car and circled back around to the drive-thru to place the large drink order for his friends. As he spoke into the speaker, I took the opportunity to admire him: His big, veiny hands wrapped around the steering wheel. The chunky watch around his wrist. His thick hair, windblown from being outside all day. He already looked tanner than he had yesterday, after just one afternoon in the sun.
He had the most beautiful face. Maybe that’s an odd term for a guy, but it was a fitting word to describe someone who had eyelashes longer than most women’s and perfect, full lips that I so wished I could feel against mine, even just once.
He suddenly turned to me, and I looked away, worried I’d been caught in the act of staring. But he just handed me a couple of trays to hold during the drive back to the house. I placed a third tray at my feet. The ice cubes shook around in the cups as he sped off.
We passed all of the posh shops on Worth Avenue—stores where one item in the window cost more than my annual salary—before turning onto the side road that led to the Masterson estate.
The heat hit my skin as I got out, a stark contrast to the air conditioning in Gavin’s car.
When we returned to the pool area, his friends were all talking over each other again. Now one of the girls was sitting on Weldon’s lap. While Gavin was away, they apparently went for second best. Weldon didn’t seem to mind one bit.
“What took you so long?” Green Bikini Girl asked.
Ugh. His ex-girlfriend. Hate her.
“Long-ass line.” He shot me a knowing look that gave me goosebumps.
The rest of that afternoon, I kept peeking out at the pool while I worked inside. Every time I saw those girls hovering around him, I cringed.
At one point, Gavin escaped from the pack, lifted off his shirt, and dove into the pool with clean precision. I could have witnessed that over and over. I pretended to wash the windows on the French doors leading out to the patio just so I could watch him.
When Gavin finally exited the pool and pushed his wet hair back, he seemed to move in slow motion as I admired the ripples of muscles along his torso.
As if he could feel me watching him, he looked over in my direction. I turned away, pretending once again to be immersed in my cleaning.
When I looked back at him, he was still staring at me. He flashed that wicked smile, and I returned it. I could feel my face heat.
He walked over to the door and pressed his nose against it before crossing his eyes. Cracking up, I sprayed some Windex and wiped the window over his face in circles. He smiled wide, his breath steaming up the glass.
That might have been the first moment I realized I was screwed.
***
That evening, my mother was working late. Ruth needed her to serve dinner for some friends they’d invited over. So Mom dropped me off at home and drove right back to the mansion.
Since my mother wouldn’t be home for dinner, my friend Marni brought Mexican takeout over. She
had been my friend since childhood. We grew up on the same street, and we had a lot in common, being the only children of single mothers who worked service jobs on Palm Beach. Marni’s mother, June, worked in catering.
“How’s the new gig going?” Marni asked, shoving a taco into her mouth.
I peeled the foil off my burrito. “I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.”
“I give you credit. I would hate to be at the beck and call of a bunch of rude, rich people all day. Fuck that. I’ll work at the mall.”
“Not all rich people are jerks,” I defended.
“Well, that’s been my experience. My mother has worked on Palm Beach for years, and believe me, I’ve heard enough stories to draw that conclusion.”
“Well, they’re not all bad.” I felt like I might have been turning red.
She squinted her eyes and examined my expression. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”’
“What makes you say that?”
“You’ve got a look...the one you have whenever you’re keeping something from me.”
I wiped my mouth. “The Mastersons’ oldest son is really cute...and nice, too.”
She let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I pity you if you’re developing a crush on Gavin.”
The mere mention of his name caused my heart to flutter.
“You know Gavin? I didn’t know that.”
“My mom has worked some parties at their house, so yeah. She’s talked about that family before. The service workers—they all know each other. They swap stories and compare notes about which house is the best to work in, who’s the bitchiest boss, things like that.”
“Well, what did she say about Gavin?”
I gulped. Jesus, am I actually getting nervous?
“Nothing about him in particular, but apparently the mother—Ruth—has this idea that her sons are going to run their father’s law firm someday, come back after school is finished, settle on the island, and marry one of The Fab Five.”
I felt like she was speaking a foreign language. “The Fab Five?”
“There are five families with daughters who are just as rich as the Mastersons: the Chancellors, the Wentworths, the Phillipsons, the McCarthys, and the Spillaines. Apparently, Ruth will stop at nothing to ensure that her sons end up with one of those daughters.” She rolled her eyes. “God forbid the pedigree gets ruined.”
The Day He Came Back Page 2