by S Doyle
“I’m having a conversation with Javier,” I said. “Obviously.”
“He’s working. The only conversation you should be having with him is regarding your drink order, which it looks like you already have in your hand.”
I smiled gleefully. “I don’t understand, Beth. Why don’t you want me to talk to your friend, Javier? We were just having a chat about you.”
She placed herself between me and the bar effectively cutting me off from the bartender.
“I don’t have time for this. I can’t be seen talking with the customers. You need to take your drink back to daddy and stay out of my business.”
“Why are you really working here, Beth?” My dad’s words spinning through my head. “Is your family in some kind of trouble?”
“You know my sisters are in trouble. Remember?”
“Not that. Something else. When is your father coming back?”
“Soon. Next week I think.”
“Is that true?” Because it sounded as if she’d just made that up.
“Yes, now will you go back to your table?”
I leaned into her so that only she could hear me. Something I knew was becoming a habit. “If you need help…”
“I don’t,” she said through gritted teeth.
“But if you did,” I said tightly. “I would help you.”
“Beth, is there a problem?”
This from Javier who’d finished putting away the glasses. Maybe he saw my lean-in as more threatening than it was. Quickly, I took a step back. I didn’t want any trouble. Not from him or to make any trouble for her.
Because it was a very real possibility that Beth needed this job.
“No problem,” I told him. “We were discussing a school assignment.”
“I’m good,” Beth assured Javier.
“Come over after your shift ends,” I said suddenly.
“Why?”
Because I need to talk to you some more.
“We need to rehearse for the fashion show. Our schedules have been all over the place. But we have to make time. You know we do. It’s in two weeks.”
I watched her struggle. “It’s been a long day.”
“Tomorrow then. After my football practice.”
She nodded tightly. “Fine. But just to rehearse.”
I smiled innocently. “What else would we do?”
Taking my father’s drink back to the table, I set it in front of him. Both he and Gigi were smirking at each other.
“What?” I asked as I took my seat.
“Nothing,” my dad said. “Nothing at all.”
8
Beth
“This is not a house,” I told Star, who had offered to drive me to Fitz’s.
While it was a walkable distance from my house, it was more convenient to drive. I did have my license but having only the one car, if Mom wasn’t driving, then Star was. The idea that I could have the car for myself for a few hours was too much of luxury.
“I think they call it an estate,” she said. “Chas’s home is the same way. They’ve bought up a bunch of property next to them and behind them, then knocked down all those homes so they could have more privacy.
Our home was a massive house, but it sat on less than one acre of land. Our neighbors’ massive homes on either side of us were no more than ten feet apart. Such was more common for the street layouts of Haddonfield.
Not so for the Darcys.
Looking up the long driveway toward the towering mansion, I wasn’t intimidated at all.
“You’re really going to host the fashion show?” Star asked.
I tore my eyes away from the estate and looked at her. “Yes. That’s why I’m here. Why are you asking me like that couldn’t be true?”
“It’s just, you know. The seniors especially take it pretty seriously. I mean, it’s like almost as big as prom.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, it’s not really your thing to do something for the popular kids. And let’s face it, that’s who this fashion show is for. It’s not about raising money for charity. It’s so pretty rich girls can wear expensive things and show them off. And other pretty rich girls can buy expensive things just to prove they can.”
Star sighed and it might have been the first time I realized she also felt the weight of our father’s treachery. Of our sudden inability to compete with other girls our age in that arena.
“Anyway, there’s been talk…”
“What talk?” I asked.
“Of asking Miss Havisham to replace you.”
My jaw dropped. “Replace me. With who?”
Star winced. “Anne.”
Anne. Of course that made sense. Anne was the most popular girl in my class. The prettiest, the best hair. She was Star’s junior captain on the cheer leading squad. Reen hated her with the force of a supernova, but only because she treated Reen more harshly than all the other girls in our class. Probably because she was jealous of Reen’s overt sexuality and all the male attention that came with it.
Anne was the essence of the Snob crowd. Teachers loved her. Her peers idolized her. The truth was she really should be dating Fitz. Those two made infinite sense as a couple, but for some reason while they attended all the same parties and events, he’d never gone with her.
However, Anne was not on the debate team. Anne was not chosen by Miss Havisham to host the fashion show.
Anne did not have a presence when she spoke.
Probably because she had a ridiculously high, squeaky voice.
“Well, let Miss Havisham replace me if she wants. Until then I still need to be prepared.”
Star shook her head. “Beth, you know…you could still be in her circle. If you made more of an effort.”
I smiled at my nearly perfect sister. She’d never needed any effort to be part of anything. People just naturally gravitated toward her.
“I put my effort to its best use,” I told her. “Being part of Anne’s circle is not that.”
Star reached over and took my hand. “Sometimes I wish I had your common sense. You’re so practical. It isn’t lost on me how much we need that right now. You’re the only one who is working…”
“Because I’m the only who can right now,” I reminded her. “It’s your senior year. Your schedule is too full. And Mary and the twins are too young. Mom just straight up refuses, so that leaves me. So please know that if Anne bumps me from my fashion show duties, it will not be a hardship. I’ll take an extra shift that Sunday at The Club.”
“Like I said, that’s very practical of you. I also think it makes you a little bit of my hero right now.”
“That would be a role change,” I said softly even as I squeezed her hand. “Because you’re always my hero.”
She looked at me and I could feel her sadness. “We’re going to get through this, aren’t we?”
I nodded. “We have no choice.”
Because I think we both knew what neither one of us wanted to say.
Our father was never coming back.
I watched Star drive away. She’d offered to pick me up when I was done, but I knew she was headed to Chas’s place and I didn’t want to put any constraints on their time together. Maybe I was more my mother’s daughter than I thought.
Did I really imagine that Star and Chas would stay together through college, get married and go on to lead happy, rich, wonderful lives?
It seemed like a fairytale. But maybe, right now, it was okay to believe in something magical rather than the reality that was soon going to bear down on us.
“Is your family in some kind of trouble?”
I couldn’t help but wonder what Fitz would do if he knew. He’d said he wanted to help but how could he? It’s not like he could make his dad write us a check. It’s not like he could ask his mom to contact the FBI to find my missing father.
Truth be told, I was pretty sure, based on his actions, if my father was found he was probably going to jail for a very long time. He had to be doi
ng something illegal with his hedge fund. Otherwise disbanding it like he did and taking all the money made no sense.
So there was absolutely nothing Fitz could do that would help my family, other than to possibly keep my sisters from being targeted in some kind of disgusting virgin-betting ring. And he was only doing that because it impacted his sister as well. I needed to remind myself of that.
He wasn’t doing any of this out of the goodness of his own heart and his offer of help was simply an empty gesture because…because he pitied me for working.
Which was just shitty of him now that I thought about it. Nobody who worked should be pitied. It didn’t matter how inferior the type of work. I was making money that was helping my family.
I was doing that.
Which meant by the time I’d hiked up what felt like a mile-long driveway and pressed my thumb on the overly large doorbell, I’d worked up a pretty good steam.
Fitz opened the door and I let all that steam blast him right in the face.
“You know I don’t need your charity,” I said.
He immediately pulled back.
“So I work at The Club! I make money. I use that money to buy things I want. There is nothing pitiful about any of that. I’m top in my class. I’ve got a list a mile long of accomplishments to put on my college application. And now I can actually add part-time work to that. If anything, it’s only going to make me appear more well-rounded.”
During my rant, he’d leaned against the door jab, arms folded across his chest. He really had some rather impressive biceps. Had I noticed that before?
“Are you done?”
I sniffed. Played back my monologue in my head. Realized it made me sound only a little bat-shit crazy and nodded.
“I don’t pity you, Bennet. I could never pity anyone as proud as you. And you’re not at the top of your class, you’re tied. With me. Now get in here.”
He moved away from the door and I followed him inside. It was strange. Of course I knew where the Darcys lived. The twins had been here any number of times for Gigi’s birthday parties growing up. But this was the first time I had been invited inside.
There was a massive foyer with a place for coats. I’d worn a jean jacket on account of the late September chill in the air and allowed Fitz to hang it up for me.
“We’ll go down to the playroom.”
“Sure,” I said, thrusting my hands into my jean pockets. I’d purposely not changed my outfit for this, so I was wearing the same tan cashmere sweater I’d worn to school, along with dark jeans—professionally torn at the knees—and a pair of Chucks. If only to shake up my look from the Doc Martens.
My hair, like normal, was pulled into a ponytail, and I thought about how vastly different my light brown hair was from Anne’s golden blond waves.
I followed Fitz down a hallway to a door that opened to a staircase leading us down. The “play” room was huge with a bar, multiple games tables, a huge black leather couch and two black leather recliners.
My mother would be horrified at the decor. She considered leather gauche.
I thought it looked comfortable.
“Maisy is going to bring some snacks in a few minutes,” he said.
“Who’s Maisy?”
“Our housekeeper.”
“Right.”
I wandered around the room. Rolling a ball along the felt of the pool table. Sliding a disk on the shuffleboard surface that looked as smooth as glass. All this stuff. My dad had a pool table he kept in what my mother called his man cave. She’d sold it. Everything in my dad’s man cave was the first to go.
“I thought we could get started on actually figuring out our shtick,” Fitz said.
“Shtick?”
“You know our back and forth. How we want to play it. Our banter.”
Banter. With Fitz.
I glanced down at my red high-tops and told him the truth. “This is probably a waste of time.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Star just told me the senior Snobs don’t want me hosting. Apparently, I’m not popular enough. They think it should be Anne.”
Fitz huffed. “Anne? She’d be awful. Her squeaky voice, on a microphone?”
“Apparently, they’re going to petition Miss Havisham.”
“You’re not going to get Havisham to do anything she doesn’t want to do. Are you upset by this?”
“Me? Uh, no. Some things are worth digging in your heels. MC’ing…”
“Co-MCing,” he pointed out.
“Co-MCing a bullshit charity event is not worth it.”
I sat on the sprawling leather couch and confirmed it was, in fact, very comfortable. Fitz sat with me on the couch, but it was big enough he wasn’t too close. Just close enough.
“Why aren’t you dating Anne?”
“Excuse me?”
“The two of you would make this huge power couple. I mean, I know you had your lover this summer, but for the school year, you two would be fantastic together. You would look amazing.”
“I don’t give a shit about appearances,” he said.
I lifted my eyebrows at that.
“Fine. I do, but only so far as it impacts my family. My mother is sitting U.S. Senator. People are watching us, so that matters. But I wouldn’t date someone just to look good. You date someone to feel good.”
“And now we’re back to sex.”
“I’m not talking about sex,” he argued. “Yes, sex feels good, but that’s not what I meant. I meant feeling good with the person. Feeling comfortable. Wanting to tell that person stuff about what’s happening in your life. Do you honestly think Anne cares about anything beyond her hair and what she’s going to wear tomorrow? You seriously think I could be with someone like her?”
No. I didn’t. “I guess not. It’s just you know how it is. Everyone in this town expects everything to fit into these nice, neat circles. Look at Star and Chas.”
“Star and Chas aren’t together because they look good together. That just happens to be a side effect. They’re both really nice people so it makes sense that when they’re together they feel good about each other.”
“So is there someone? Someone who makes you feel good to be around?”
He was looking down at this hands that were loosely clasped together. “Potentially. Maybe. But it’s complicated. What about you?”
“Me?” I don’t know why I said it as if the idea was so completely outrageous, but that’s how it felt. “My life is entirely too complicated to even think about finding someone I could feel good with.”
“You mean Mr. Sex Closet isn’t getting the job done,” he asked dryly.
I rolled my eyes. “You know damn well I’m not having sex with Javier at The Club. Don’t insult both our intelligence.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I kind of figured when you freaked out last night when I was talking to him. So you’re not working at the club to have hot sex with Javier and you’re not there to learn Spanish. Talk to me, Beth. I won’t offer to help again, but you have to tell someone. You know this town. Secrets don’t stay hidden for long.”
He was right. As hard as my mother was trying, as many pieces of jewelry she still had left to sell, there was only so long the façade would last.
“I haven’t even told Janie and Reen everything,” I admitted.
But there was something about Fitz knowing. Like, if he, my greatest adversary, knew, then anyone else knowing wouldn’t hurt as much. Beyond that, I knew Fitz wasn’t cruel. He didn’t think or care about money like the other rich kids in school did because his parents had taught him differently.
Yes, he was rich, but he’d also seen poor and so he wasn’t as quick to judge.
“My father left,” I said tentatively.
“I know that.”
I shook my head and curled my knees up into my chest, my chin resting on one as I wrapped my arms around my shins.
“He’s not coming back.”
“You know that?”
> “We suspect that.”
“Why?” Fitz asked.
I looked at him then. His blue eyes were so fierce. He was born to slay dragons.
“Because he took all the money with him when he left.”
Fitz whistled as he let his breath go. “All of it?”
I nodded. “Every dime from every account.”
Fitz stood then and started pacing. “How are you affording anything?”
“We own the house outright. There is no mortgage. The deed is in my father’s name, but it’s not like he can sell it in his absence. Mom sold the Range Rover and she’s been selling her jewelry over in Philadelphia to keep us in cash.”
“What about your father’s investment company?”
“We don’t know. My mother had nothing to do with it. Investigators have been to the house, but it’s not like we can tell them anything. I think they’re probably just looking for my missing father. Which is why we’re fairly certain he’s not coming back. Not that my mother would take him back. Or at least I don’t think she would. Hard to say.”
“What about you?”
“He is dead to me. He abandoned us,” I said hotly. “His wife, Star, me, Kit and Lydia…”
“And Mary,” Fitz filled in.
“Shit. Why do we always forget Mary? Anyway, he’s a monster.”
“Beth,” Fitz said softly. “He’s your dad.”
“I hate him,” I hissed. “I. Hate. Him.”
Thankfully, Fitz didn’t touch that. Instead, he reached over and squeezed my knee.
“What is your mom’s plan?”
I laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “I’m pretty sure it’s for Star to marry well.”
Fitz laughed, too, and shook his head. “I might think about getting a job, but that’s a solid back-up choice.”
There was a silence between us then. His hand on my knee, squeezing it, offering some comfort.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” I finally admitted. “She’s just not capable of managing all this. Eventually, she’ll need to get a lawyer, file for divorce, figure out how to sell the house. Hope to God we’re not going to be held financially accountable for my father’s investment firm and then go from there.”