A pretty blonde wearing a Burger King crown and holding a wine cooler swayed in front of the Story siblings’ path as soon as they stepped inside. “It’s my birthday,” she slurred, poking Adam’s chest with her bottle. “Are you my present?”
Adam smirked, sliding an arm around the girl’s waist. “I could be.”
“Archerrrrrr!” A boy Allison vaguely recognized as Rob Valentine waved wildly from a corner where kids were sitting on pillows around a low table. “Come play quarters.”
“They’re dropping like flies,” Anders said as Archer sprinted toward his friend. “Come on,” he added to Allison, who watched in disbelief as Adam and the birthday girl started making out against a wall. Thirty seconds after arrival; a new Adam Story record. “Let’s get a drink.”
Allison didn’t particularly want to hang out with Anders, but she didn’t recognize anyone else here, so she followed him into the bungalow’s run-down kitchen. “Beer?” he yelled over his shoulder, then grabbed two Solo cups from a stack on the counter without waiting for an answer. The line for the keg was ten people deep, but Anders pushed his way to the front as though he didn’t notice and wrestled the tap away from the startled boy who’d been filling his cup.
“Some things never change, huh?” asked a wry voice.
Allison turned to see Kayla Dugas, Anders’s ex, and the third point of the infamous Matt-Anders-Kayla love triangle. Kayla’s signature waist-length hair—she’d never cut it in her entire life—was hanging over her shoulders in loose curls. She looked effortlessly sexy in a black tank top and jeans, no makeup except for wine-colored lipstick on her rosebud mouth. Allison, who’d agonized about what to wear before settling on the kind of sweatshirt-and-shorts combo that Matt had deemed “GCI casual,” suddenly felt ten years old.
Kayla had that effect on people. She wasn’t unfriendly, exactly, but she was aloof in a way that Allison found frustrating. If life were a movie, Anders’s on-again, off-again townie girlfriend would have been eager to impress his wealthy family, but Kayla always acted as though she was the one who needed to be won over. As a result, none of the Storys had ever really warmed to her except for Allison’s father, who’d considered her a breath of fresh air. “I do believe your father has a crush,” Mother had once said acidly, which made Allison certain that she celebrated Anders and Kayla’s frequent breakups more than anyone.
This last one, after the Matt hookup, had been the longest ever. Anders had gone back to his second semester at Harvard swearing he’d never speak to Kayla again, and Allison hadn’t heard him mention her name since. Until—
“Kayla.” Anders handed Allison’s beer to his ex, as though he’d intended it for her all along. “What a delightful non-surprise.”
“Anders.” Kayla accepted the cup with a sly smile. “Thought you weren’t talking to me?”
Allison slipped away before Anders could reply. She’d never understand their dynamic: how her haughty, imperious brother could practically grovel for Kayla’s affection until she gave it, and then promptly ignore her. Allison waited her turn at the keg, feeling invisible as Anders and Kayla kept inching closer together, becoming the center of the room’s attention even as everyone pretended not to notice them.
“Disaster waiting to happen,” someone murmured in her ear.
Allison turned to see Matt Ryan holding two full cups of beer. He handed her one, and she pushed his chest with alarm that was only half joking. “Run away before Anders sees you!” she said in an urgent whisper, but Matt just laughed.
“Anders only has eyes for Kayla,” he said, but let Allison lead him out of the kitchen anyway. “I was hoping you’d be here,” he added once they were out of sight in a corner beside the stairs.
Allison looked up at Matt, taking in his flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and lopsided smile. It looked as though he’d been at Rob’s party awhile. “Thanks for calling about getting coffee,” she said sarcastically.
Whoops. That’s not what she’d meant to lead with. She’d wanted to play it cool, like she hadn’t thought about Matt’s invitation every day since he’d made it. Her cheeks burned, but Matt just grinned. “Come on, you know I can’t call your house. Everyone except you would hang up on me.” He gave a rueful little chuckle. “Well, and maybe my mom.”
“She says hi and hopes you’re eating well,” Allison reported dutifully, then wanted to sink through the floor. Nothing sexier than passing along a message from a guy’s mother.
But Matt just laughed. “I’m not, but don’t tell her that. She’ll probably freak out and ask her sister to come stay with me. The last thing I need is my aunt Paula as a roommate. Hey, you want to play quarters?”
Allison drank half her beer as a stalling tactic. She didn’t, particularly. She wanted to talk to Matt alone, but she wasn’t sure how to make that happen at a party filled with people he knew and she didn’t.
Unless she borrowed one of Adam’s patented moves. Allison fanned herself and frowned. “It’s so hot in here. I was thinking about taking a walk. Want to come?”
“Sure,” Matt said, easily swallowing the line that, Adam liked to brag, had gotten him laid on every beach on Gull Cove Island. Not that that’s what I’m doing, Allison told herself, draining the rest of her beer as she and Matt wound their way through the crowded living room. She just wasn’t good at parties. And even though her brothers had all deserted her almost as soon as they’d arrived, she didn’t want any of them seeing her with fucking Matt Ryan.
Plus there was the problem of Kayla. If she got bored with Anders, she might turn her attention back to Matt. And Allison couldn’t compete.
She’d forgotten how cold it was, though, and started shivering as soon as the front door closed behind them. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” Allison said as the wind picked up and goose bumps sprouted on her bare legs.
“Nah, we just need reinforcements.” Matt unzipped his leather jacket and pulled a small bottle of bourbon from the inside pocket. “Liquid warmth,” he said with a grin, unscrewing the top and handing it to Allison. She hesitated, and he cocked a teasing eyebrow. “Unless you’re backing out on me?”
Allison had the feeling that he knew exactly what had been on her mind when she invited him outside, and her first instinct was to dart back into the bungalow. Until she took a small sip of bourbon, which was so warm and spicy and welcoming that she took a much larger one, and suddenly the last thing she wanted to do was play it safe. Kayla wouldn’t, she thought, and then mentally kicked herself for thinking about Matt’s ex at this particular moment. That girl took up far too much of her family’s headspace as it was.
“Definitely not,” Allison said.
“Good.” Matt’s smile widened as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
No matter how many times I stare at my phone, the numbers in my bank account never change.
Checking: $10.71, although that’ll finally go up when I deposit my first paycheck from Gull Cove Resort. Nobody in accounting blinked, earlier in the summer, when I told them to use the name North. “My checking account is under my mother’s maiden name,” I said, and all they cared about was that I returned the paperwork in time.
The number that kills me is my savings account: $0.00. Five months ago, it was enough to cover two years of community college, where I planned to kick ass, grade-wise, while working part-time until I could transfer to a four-year university. I’d become the first college graduate in our family, and I’d do it with minimal loans because I’d saved every birthday check, every cent I’d ever made at my parents’ billiards hall, and all the money I’d made tutoring over the years. I was still hoping for scholarships, but I wouldn’t need them. Anything I got would just be icing on the cake.
Then I handed the entire account over to my dad, for a “can’t miss” investment opportunity that was going to double everyth
ing we had. Maybe even triple it. And here we are now: a zero balance for me, and my savings account was hardly the biggest gamble the North family took with Anders Story.
One disgruntled client lost the entirety of his retirement savings, his child’s college fund, and is now in danger of losing his family’s small business.
It’s ironic, I guess, that the son of the biggest victims of Anders Story’s scam is now masquerading as his son. But it’s also intentional. I had big plans for this summer, all of which I probably shot to hell by eating a plate of shrimp linguine.
“Dude.” Efram’s voice yanks me back to our dorm room at Gull Cove Resort. There’s no air-conditioning, so Efram’s giant fan is whirring noisily on his desk, sending a burst of air every time it rotates. Warm air, but better than nothing. “Do you seriously not hear the door?”
I blink at him as the knocking finally registers. “Why don’t you get it?”
“Dude,” Efram repeats, gesturing between me and the door. I’m at my desk, and he’s prone on his bed with his laptop propped against his knees, a pair of oversized headphones looped around his neck. “You’re closer.”
Responsibility by proximity is one of the unspoken rules of guys rooming together, so I get to my feet without further complaint. When I open the door, Milly’s standing there with Aubrey at her side, her fist half raised. “About time,” she says, walking into the room.
“Hey, guys, what’s up?” Efram says, a confused expression crossing his face. My “cousins” haven’t visited me here once since we arrived a week and a half ago.
“We’re borrowing Jonah,” Milly says, spinning a set of keys on one finger. I force myself to keep my eyes on her face instead of the uncharacteristically short shorts she’s wearing, because I’m not supposed to notice that kind of thing. “Carson is letting us use the resort Jeep for the afternoon. We’re going to meet Hazel.”
She says it like I’m supposed to know the name, but my mind is blank. “Who?”
“Hazel Baxter-Clement. The girl from town who’s doing a college project on the Story family. Remember? With the grandfather?” My stomach clenches then, because yeah, I remember. I could barely stand to look at that girl while she was talking to us. I kept expecting her to blow my cover before I’d even gotten to the resort.
“Right,” I say, aiming for a casual tone. “Why are we meeting her?”
“For the interview,” Milly says brightly. “Aubrey and I decided to do it. And we all have to go. It’s a family thing.”
She’s still spinning the keys, and I can read the challenge in her eyes loud and clear. I’ve barely seen Milly since she found me out, but I’ve been on edge the whole time, waiting for her to tell me she’s sending me home. Now, it looks like she’s decided not to—as long as I play along with whatever she wants.
And I will, but it’s not a great situation. Especially since that Hazel girl literally studied the Story family. JT gave me background information before I left, but considering he couldn’t be bothered to tell me he’s allergic to shrimp, I’m not counting on his thoroughness. “I thought you didn’t want to talk to her,” I hedge. Efram’s still lying on his bed with his headphones around his neck, not even pretending that he’s not listening.
“We changed our minds,” Milly says. “Are you coming or not, Jonah?”
The way her voice hardens on my name decides it for me. “Fine,” I mutter, grabbing my room key off the dresser. “But I won’t have much to say.”
She rolls her eyes. “You never do. See you, Efram.”
“Later, cousins,” he says, settling his headphones over his ears.
I follow Milly and Aubrey into the hallway, but wait until we’re in the stairwell with the door closed behind us to ask, “Does this mean you’re not gonna tell?”
Milly faces me, eyes wide. “Tell what? We don’t know anything about anything. If something strange is going on around here, we’ll be just as surprised as the rest of the world once it comes to light.” Her lips press into a thin line. “Which it will.”
She turns and heads down the stairs, and Aubrey pats me on the shoulder. “You’re not very good at being our cousin,” she says, not unkindly. “Go ahead and keep trying, though.”
She follows Milly, and I’m at her heels with a growing sense of relief. “But you guys aren’t gonna say anything?” I repeat. Just to be sure. “To Carson, or your parents, or JT, or…anyone?”
Milly makes me wait until we’ve made it all the way down the stairs before she lets me off the hook. “Your secret is safe with us, Jonah North.”
* * *
—
Milly drives the resort-loaned Jeep while I scroll through the latest texts from JT. I hadn’t told him about Milly catching on to us, hoping for a reprieve like the one I just got, but I did keep him in the loop about Mildred’s invitations. He’s not happy, at all, about the prospect of me hanging out with his grandmother. I can tell from his increasingly irritable messages that he never thought things would get this far.
You should pretend you’re sick for brunch
And the gala
Lie low till she gets bored
This is all just a game to her anyway
I feel a rush of bitter satisfaction when I put my phone away without answering. Because here’s the thing: if Mildred isn’t playing a game—if she’s actually interested in letting her grandchildren be part of her life—then JT is one degree of separation from a Bruce Wayne fortune. I go to school with a few people like Milly, who have the kind of money that pays for a big house, nice cars, and college. But Mildred Story is next level. She has fuck-you money and then some. If JT gets ahold of even a little of that, his entire family will be set for life.
And I promised myself, when I agreed to do this, that I wouldn’t let that happen.
I didn’t tell Milly the whole truth when she confronted me with my license. If I had, she would’ve sent me packing immediately. The reality is, I didn’t go along with JT’s plan for the bonus payment, or the free vacation. I agreed because it’s not every day you get to screw people out of becoming megamillionaires, especially when those people are the Providence branch of the Story family. Nothing personal against JT, who’s an ass but mostly harmless. He dangled this job like the privileged little prick he is: a consolation prize for what my family lost because of his father. No hard feelings, right, Jonah? Shit happens.
Shit doesn’t happen unless it’s stirred. I can give JT a pass. But his father?
I fucking hate that guy.
Which JT has to know. The fact that he asked me to take his place anyway proves that he’s book smart, not people smart. He saw a cushy summer job for a guy who needs the money, and I saw the chance to make sure Anders Story stays cut off from his family fortune forever.
I’d have done that for free.
As soon as JT and I shook on this plan, I started dreaming about what I’d do if I ever got in front of Mildred Story. How I’d be a complete and utter asshole, so insulting that whatever door she might’ve been thinking about cracking open to the Providence Storys would slam shut. How Anders Story would know it happened because of me, and would wish he’d never messed with our family.
When I met Mildred that first day in Carson Fine’s office, I was too caught off guard to say anything before she dismissed us. Then I blew my cover, and thought I was done for. Now it looks like I’m getting another chance. Except…
Some of my satisfaction ebbs away as I watch wind from the half-open window loosen strands from Milly’s ponytail. I wasn’t counting on having to worry about her and Aubrey this summer, because I didn’t think I’d care about them. But Aubrey is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and Milly…well. She’s given me nonstop grief since I met her on the ferry, but I can’t blame her for that, and it hasn’t stopped me from liking her a little too much.
I don’t want
to mess things up for either of them. What if my selling out JT and Anders ruins their chances with Mildred too? What if they hate me for it?
“Oh my God.” Milly sounds so startled that for a second, I’m sure she’s read my mind. Then she slows the Jeep and says, “I think that’s Catmint House.”
I look up as Milly pulls the Jeep to a stop, giving us a clear view of the curving seaside road we’re on and—holy hell. There’s a huge house built at the edge of a steep bluff rising directly out of the ocean, its clean white lines a sharp contrast to the jagged black rocks. The part we’re looking at is practically all floor-to-ceiling windows that sparkle in the summer sun. A shimmering metal widow’s walk surrounds the roof, and a metal rail runs in front of a flat section to one side of the house. If I had to guess, I’d bet there’s an infinity pool there. The view would be unbelievable.
I’m not really an architecture guy, but even I can appreciate how dramatic everything is. Not to mention massive. The place looks almost as big as Gull Cove Resort. For one person. My chest tightens, and once again, there’s nothing on earth I want more than to keep Anders Story from ever making his way back here. I hope he dies before he sets foot in the oceanfront palace he grew up in. Even if I have to kill him myself.
“Unbelievable,” Milly breathes, and my murderous thoughts evaporate. Mostly.
“I wonder what it’s like inside?” Aubrey says wistfully. The more time I spend around Aubrey, the more I think she couldn’t care less about the money. She just wants somebody in this messed-up family to give a shit about her.
“Guess we’ll find out Sunday,” Milly says, putting her foot back on the gas. Her words are casual, but her voice is tense as Catmint House disappears from view. Milly’s feelings about the Story family are harder to read. When she told Aubrey and me on the ferry that her mother bribed her with a diamond necklace, my first thought was: She’s shallow. She likes chasing shiny things, just like Anders Story. But she could’ve easily joined the über-rich Towhee crowd—that smarmy senator’s kid Reid Chilton obviously has a hard-on for her—and she hasn’t.
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