by Alexis Bass
“I like you,” he says. “And I’m tired of subtext. But … it’s complicated.”
I should play this cool, take the I like you as hope, enjoy the warm feeling it gives me. But instead, I say, “How? How is it complicated?”
“You said last night that you think it’s pointless to lie no matter the situation.”
I nod. There’s a heap of things he hasn’t told me—won’t tell me. Not about why he pulled away from me last night or what goes on in his mind when he can’t sleep, what he needs a distraction from. He didn’t tell me he was being deposed for Rob James’s lawsuit. Or what happened that makes him regret ever getting involved with her. And the worst part is I was tempted to spill everything last night, tell him all about Mimi and Rosie, about my dad.
“The problem is,” he says, “it’s not my secret to tell.”
He might not deserve this kind of rage from me, but it gets blasted at him anyway as I think back on what Rosie said that night—It was my secret to tell—and how both she and Mimi used that as an excuse for never coming clean to me about who my real mother was. I can’t help the sternness in my voice as I say, “If you know the secret, then it is yours to tell.”
“You really believe that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
I don’t wait for him to come up with something before I take off down the hill without him. He keeps up easily because we’re both slow, and I’m rushing so, I fall down more than he does.
We reach the end, where the hill is curved. Theo and Stewart and Anastasia are at the base shouting up at us, letting us know they beat us by several minutes.
We descend the slope, skimming the edge in a wide turn to loop around and ski into the base. But halfway down, I decide to shift in direction. I plunge straight forward. Bending my knees and keeping them closed for maximum speed and to prevent myself from flailing. I trip a little at the base, but I manage to stay upright as I come to a stop.
“That’s my girl!” Anastasia high-fives me.
“Very impressive, Collins,” Theo says.
Sometimes it feels good, taking a risk that no one expects and watching as it works out fine.
When we get back to the sky lounge, Rob James is there. She’s dressed in a white fur coat with gold snow boots. She’s making her way through the crowd, meeting the families of her board members and investors as she sips on a pink drink in a martini glass.
Jasper, predictably, excuses himself and goes back to his room, keeping with his goal to stay as far away from Rob James as possible. But the rest of us find a high-top table available and order fries. Stewart offers to get us sodas from the bar since the lounge is slammed and we’re all parched from skiing. Anastasia volunteers to help him carry the drinks.
“Look at them,” I say to Theo, nodding at Anastasia and Stewart. They’re by the bar talking and laughing, standing close. I’ll admit, I’m feeling a little antagonistic.
“Anastasia likes to flirt,” Theo says. “With anyone willing and able.”
“You like Stewart—the whole time we’ve been here, you’ve had a great time with him. You enjoy yourself around him. You think he’s fun. Muy bueno, très bon—as Stewart would say. It doesn’t make any sense that you told Anastasia all those things about him when you yourself don’t believe them for a second, on top of them not being even remotely true.”
“Fine,” he says. “Stewart’s great. Sehr gut. You’re right. They should date. I’m staying over here, aren’t I? Out of their way. I haven’t said anything to her about him since she arrived. If they want to fall madly in love, I’m not going to be the one to stop them.”
“Good.” It’s sometimes really unsatisfying to go off on someone about how they were wrong, only for them to turn around and agree with you so quickly.
“She needs someone to kiss on New Year’s Eve anyway.”
“Who are you going to kiss?”
“I’m going to surprise myself. You?”
“Probably no one. Keeping with tradition.”
“You’ve never had a New Year’s Eve kiss?”
I shake my head.
“Do you want me to talk to Jasper for you?”
“No—seriously, no.”
“He’s difficult,” Theo says. “He’s determined not to get involved with you like that, and once he sets his mind to something, good luck changing it.”
“Why, though? Why is this something he’s decided?”
Theo’s lips part like he’s about to tell me. Instead he shrugs. “If anyone can talk sense into him, it’s usually me. Want me to see what I can do?”
“Thanks, but it’s okay.”
“You really like him, huh?”
“Theo, you know I’ve been interested in him since I first got to Rutherford. Don’t embarrass me.”
“I remember,” he says. “I thought it was strange that you chose to zero in on Jasper.”
“Why? He’s gorgeous and brilliant.”
“And boring and anxious and competitive and school-obsessed.” He shrugs. “But if you think he’s allegedly gorgeous and brilliant, I guess I’ll believe you.”
I throw a fry at him. “You guys look very similar, you know?”
“Thanks?”
We laugh.
“So on a scale of one to ten, how much do you like him?” Theo asks.
I pop a fry in my mouth as an excuse not to answer. When I’m done chewing, I say, “On a scale of one to ten, what are the odds of me still having a shot with him?”
“Ten.”
“Even with his determination?”
Theo smiles. “You’ve got very good odds.”
Thirty-seven
“It’s New Year’s Eve! We have to look perfect for the extravaganza!” Anastasia barrels into my room, her hair in rollers, toting her dress, a case of makeup, and a curling iron, the cord dragging on the floor. Anastasia’s been referring to the Robames New Year’s Eve party as the extravaganza since she arrived.
While we get ready, Anastasia tells me all about people I’ve barely heard of who will be in attendance tonight. Debra Skye, who goes to Vassar and whose family came into money late; Kyle and Rick Singer, from St. Jude’s Boarding School, who have both been kicked out of the sky lounge for being too drunk and whose parents invested their trust funds into Robames hoping to quadruple them; Judith and Ian Vander Holms, twins who graduated last year from Rutherford, whose dad is about to take over their company because granddad Vander Holms is dying of colon cancer, though the family refuses to make it public, and Anastasia only knows because she caught Judith crying in the bathroom; Connie Cho, head of a media conglomerate, and according to Anastasia, “a legit queen”; Raymond Copper, who is, as she puts it, “West Coast–movie-producer famous” and is for sure sleeping with the famous actress Mya Rhodes, who happens to be his twenty-eight-year-old daughter’s best friend from her sorority.
“What have you heard about my father?” I ask as I apply a final coat of lip gloss, curious if his reputation has at all been tarnished by Mrs. Mahoney or if it’s truly a locked-tight secret.
“Not much, Collins. Only that he’s East Coast–businessman famous and on that most eligible New York bachelor’s list with Muriel Jennings. Except he’s, you know—so old.” She whispers the last part like it’s a secret.
“You girls look wonderful! You’re as beautiful as your personalities,” my father says to us when we emerge from my bedroom, fully dressed and made up and ready to ring in the new year.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Anastasia asks me as we get together in front of the fireplace for a photo.
“Yes,” my father says, probably clueless that he was being spoken about but not spoken to, the way Anastasia likes to talk about people. “You have a sparkling personality, Anastasia. Does that clear it up?”
“You look good, too, Dad.” And he does, dressed to kill in a black tuxedo, his hair combed back, held in place by some kind of product.
We pose for a few photos and then a few dozen more, trying f
or one that Anastasia approves of before we take off for the party. My dad’s almost as excited as Anastasia; I can sense the elated urgency coming from him as we ride the elevator. He rolls on his heels. There is a small smile playing on his lips.
The first part of the party is on the lobby level, in the restaurant, which has been transformed completely, arranged with rows of long tables with white centerpieces, tall ivory candles, and gold-plated dishes and silverware. No one is seated yet; everyone stands near the bar, in the area that’s been cleared under a giant chandelier, mingling as drinks and appetizers are served. A caterer hands my father a martini. He scans the room as he sips on it. They stop on Mrs. Mahoney. She’s alone at the end of the bar, and she smiles when she sees him. Like she was waiting for him.
I glance at Anastasia to see if she’s noticed, but she’s pointing across the room to where Stewart and Jasper are standing.
“Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” I tell her.
My father smiles at me and gives me his arm. We move around the room for a while making small talk. He proudly introduces me to his colleagues, until Anastasia calls to me from the punch fountain.
“She’s your most demanding friend yet,” he says. “But she seems like a lot of fun.”
I nod.
He squeezes my arm. “Have a good time. I’ll see you when they serve dinner.”
On my way, I stop by the drink cart to get another sparkling cider. My nerves are jumping at the prospect of talking to Jasper. Though both of us have been acting perfectly normal around one another, it still doesn’t feel that way. I look back and my father is gone. He’s moved toward the end of the bar, like the second I left, he walked a straight line right to her. He kisses Mrs. Mahoney on the cheeks as if he’s greeting an old friend. But he’s standing very close, and his hand lingers on hers a little too long. They drink martinis at the bar as they talk. She plays with her left earring as she listens to him. And her smile is very large. But his is larger. Even from across the room, I can see how enamored he is.
In that moment, I wonder if I’m really capable of going through with Rosie’s plan. Even if Jasper starts to fall for me, even if Mrs. Mahoney can be bribed in this way, it’s not going to change how my father feels about her—how he’ll look at her across the room, how he’ll want to be there for her no matter what, how his heart will break when she lets him off the hook. And maybe I don’t have what it takes, and it’ll end like this: She’ll jeopardize her marriage, and he’ll jeopardize his fortune and his reputation, and Mimi will sell the house, and Rosie will ask me why I couldn’t stop it.
I watch as Mrs. Mahoney and my father communicate with their eyes. When a man they must both find annoying comes up to them, talking exuberantly with his hands, patting my father incessantly on the back, my father and Mrs. Mahoney exchange looks. The man leaves, and they smile at how awkward the exchange was. She leans in close to talk to him, and he elbows her gently. She rests against him for barely a second—it’s so subtle that if I weren’t someone intent on watching them, I wouldn’t have noticed. My father’s face flushes at her touch. I scan the room, wondering where Mr. Mahoney is and if he might be witnessing this. But he is on the other side of the room, talking boisterously to a group of men who reward him with hearty laughter.
“I think the adults are getting drunk,” Theo says, startling me so badly I almost spill my drink. “Well, the adults and Stewart.”
He nods to the corner of the room, where Stewart is taking a half-empty champagne flute off the tray in the corner, set up as a place for people to discard their drinks, and pouring it into his empty water glass. He has to act fast before one of the servers clears the tray, which they do at an incredible rate to keep the party from looking cluttered. Anastasia and Jasper are shaking their heads at him but seem amused nonetheless.
I hear the unmistakable deep and uproarious laughter of my father, where he’s still standing with Mrs. Mahoney. She’s keeping it together better than he is, though her eyes are watering and her hand is over her mouth and her shoulders are shaking. She leans forward and whispers something in his ear that gets him going again. I can’t think of what someone like her could’ve possibly said to make my father laugh like that.
“Shameless, aren’t they?” Theo says.
This is exactly what I was thinking, but—
“What?” I say. “What are you meaning?” My attempt to act casual is thwarted by a usually Daiki-induced symptom—my brain couldn’t decide between saying, What do you mean? and What are you saying?
“What do you mean?” I try again. My father is friendly and his mother is friendly and they know each other through various business dealings. That’s what this could be from an outsider’s perspective. A perfectly reasonable friendship.
He presses his lips together like he’s trying to hide his smile. “Oh, never mind. Nothing.”
Wait a minute. “No … no,” I say. “What did you mean by that?”
He studies me as he takes a sip of his punch. “Well, this is awkward, Collins.”
I cut another quick look toward the two of them and, ugh—they’re being even more shameless, her fingers dancing along his arm as she tells him what would appear to be the most fascinating story he’s ever heard.
“I knew it,” Theo says, pointing at me. I shake my head—playing dumb, playing it cool, trying for anything, really. “I knew it! I told Jasper he shouldn’t worry so much. I told him that I was sure you already knew about them.” He gestures in the direction of our parents. “I knew it,” he mutters, taking another drink.
“But—how—how do you and Jasper know about it?”
“She’s our mother, Collins. And besides, our parents have always been like this.”
“Like what? Like, unfaithful?”
“Exactly—but, eh, is it really called unfaithful if they’re honest about it?” I don’t know what to say or what he means, so I stare at him blankly. If they’re honest about it, does that mean Mr. Mahoney is aware of what’s going on between them?
“My parents have had this sort of arrangement since I was little,” Theo explains. “For as long as I can remember, it’s been like this. My dad dates other people, and so does she.” He watches as his mother nudges my father again, and their laughter slows until they’re left smiling unabashedly at each other. “Usually, they try not to be so obvious—it’s not exactly something any of the parties involved want people to know about—but, well, let’s give them a break. They’ve been working very hard since we got to Hylift, and tonight, the cocktails are flowing.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I guess it makes sense that my father would only get involved with a married woman if he could do it without going behind her husband’s back, without having to lie. But it’s still a secret to most people, and if it’s like Rosie said and Mrs. Mahoney is taking advantage of him, this would be the best way to do it: away from scrutiny from outsiders. And if she’s involved with my father for her own gain—for money or the good of her boys or both—with this arrangement she’s in with her husband, which she’s been open and honest about with her sons, she doesn’t stand to risk anything.
Theo squints at me like he’s trying to gauge my reaction, like he wonders why I’ve been stunned silent. “Why does this bother you so much? He hasn’t been with your mother for years, right? Your dad is documented as one of New York’s most eligible bachelors.”
“Jasper knows, too—about them?”
“Of course. Jake came with us to St. Barths last summer. Not like he stayed with us; he was at the neighboring villa. But still. It was obvious why he was there.”
Jake. I nod again, still taking it all in. I don’t remember my dad ever mentioning a trip to St. Barths.
“But you can’t blame Jasper for not saying anything,” Theo says. “He didn’t want to be the one to tell you your dad was sleeping with our mom. He was afraid it would somehow tarnish your dad in your eyes, his being involved with a married woman, even th
ough it’s part of an arrangement. And he didn’t like keeping it from you. But he was determined. Even when I told him that it wasn’t the worst secret to have and that you probably already knew anyway. Which you did. Because I’m always right.”
When Jasper said that things were complicated, this is what he meant. And when he spoke of a secret that wasn’t his to tell, he was referring to this—our parents’ secret about being involved with each other.
Now I can tell Jasper that I know and all he was worried about will be behind us. My breath catches a little thinking about how he won’t have any reason to hold back with me after this.
“I would’ve told you myself about the affair, the arrangement, the whole thing. Put my brother out of his misery.” Theo takes a long sip of his punch.
It sounds like he’s leaving something out, and I wait for him to continue.
“So why didn’t you?” I finally ask.
“Like I said, I was pretty positive you already knew. And I couldn’t help but find it odd—in fact, I still find it odd—that you knew our parents were involved, you even thought they were having a proper affair, and yet, you still chose to hyper-focus on Jasper. Right from the start of the year.” My face flushes. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to this or where he’s going with this accusation, what he’s trying to prove. “You were the one who asked him to help you with school, weren’t you?”
Shoot. “Because I desperately needed it.”
“Everyone knows your roommate, Elena, is a bona fide genius; she could’ve helped you.”
“Why would I bother her with that when I knew Jasper didn’t mind tutoring me?”
Theo considers this but doesn’t seem convinced. “There were a lot of other resources you could’ve gone to for help.”
“It’s not like I nearly failed out of school just to get close to him—I wasn’t hyper-focused on him, as you say.” I keep going, rambling on. I’m not sure what answer Theo’s looking for from me or why he’s suspicious of my interest in Jasper.
“Collins—”
“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of or what else you want me to say about it, Theo—I didn’t find out about our parents and then go and fall for your brother on purpose.”