by Reed, Zelda
She was lulling the twins back to sleep.
“Alright,” he said, shrugging. “Does your sister accept checks or do I have to go to the bank and get a suitcase full of money?”
Fifteen
The entire time Chace was standing in my apartment, I hadn’t thought of him sexually. I was too tired, too annoyed, too worried about my sister and in fear of my job. But after an hour in his car, my dormant feelings sprung up like a fountain.
Chace drove an Audi RS 7. Black, like its leather interior and the suit he changed into before we left the city. He sat confidently in the driver’s seat, one hand wrapped around the wheel while the other rested on his knee. We rode with the windows down, the thick air of the city quickly replaced by something lighter and more pleasant. The scent of nature wafted through his short hair and chapped his lips enough for his tongue to wet them.
I tried to imagine what he looked like, sitting there in that restaurant, waiting for me to arrive. Did he memorize the wine menu before realizing I wasn’t going to show? Or was there another pretty hostess eager to keep him company? I bet there was. I bet she sat down across from him and leaned over the table, her hands finding his before she apologized on my behalf. I bet he grinned at her and shrugged it off. As if he wasn’t bothered, as if he wouldn’t be messaging me all weekend, angry and drunk. I bet he took her home and fucked her into the floor. Both of their knees raw and red when they were finished, his orgasm not enough to knock the frustration out of him.
A wave of something twisted in my stomach. Jealousy? It couldn’t be. I didn’t care what Chace did now that I’d gotten what I wanted from him.
I shifted in my seat and leaned my head against the chair, glancing over at his sharp profile. Dark sunglasses rested on his nose, hiding his eyes, fixed on the road in front of us.
“Can I turn on the radio?” I asked, reaching for it.
“No.” He said, picking up my hand and placing it on my knee. His fingers brushed against my bare skin and I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from shivering. “Why don’t you try thinking for a while?”
I turned my head away from him. “I think I would rather catch up on some sleep.”
Chace snorted. “Anything to keep you quiet.”
***
Chace’s childhood home was something out of a dream. A wide traditional estate on the water, several men groomed the expansive front lawn, greener than green with short bushes leading up the long driveway. I knew from the photos in his apartment that there was a pool in the back that overlooked Mecox Bay, three small boats docked back there as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if several women dressed like French maids were roaming around the two-story home, fluttering in and out of the nine bedrooms, two kitchens, a grand dining room, and sitting areas.
Standing at the front door was a man dressed almost as well as Chace, his black suit fitted perfectly to his slim form, his small grey beard trimmed to perfection. He watched Chace roll to a stop in front of the house, his back and shoulders straight as he stepped down from the porch and opened my car door.
“Good morning,” he said, offering his hand. I graciously took it, allowing him to lead me out of the car. “You must be Miss Alice.”
“Alice,” Chace said from the other side of the car. “You can just call her, Alice.”
The man nodded.
He snapped his fingers and out of nowhere two more men, dressed exactly like him, wandered to the trunk of Chace’s car. Chace threw one of them his set of keys and they popped it open, handling our bags with care.
“I assume you’ll be staying in your old room?” the man said to Chace.
Chace nodded. “She’s got the guest room on the first floor, right?”
“No. The guest room on the first floor is occupied. She’ll be on the second floor in the red room.”
Behind his sunglasses I could almost see Chace’s eyes narrow. “Occupied by what?”
“By me, you little shit.”
Chace’s mother, Bonnie, moved briskly from the back of their estate to the front lawn, a glass of sangria sweating in her right hand, a lit cigarette in her left. I recognized her round face and curly red hair from the last time she was in New York. She stayed in Chace’s guest room and told me stories about when he was a little boy, her hands tidying up his apartment despite his insistence that the maid (or I) would do it.
Bonnie was the sort of woman who was pretty in the face but nothing special. I could find women like her roaming all around Long Island, their wide hips swaying uncontrollably as they walked, their white pants too long for their stubby legs and thick thighs.
Chace straightened his shoulders in her presence, his chin popping up in confidence. Bonnie’s grin widened on her face before she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
“Good morning, Mom,” he said, unable to hold back a smile.
“Morning,” she said, pulling away from him and sticking her cigarette in her mouth. She inhaled and exhaled before turning her attention to me. Her green eyes sparkled in the sun as she said, “Amy. I can’t believe you’re still working for this little asshole.”
I smiled. “It’s Alice, Mrs. Evans.”
She took a sip of her drink and shrugged. “And it’s Bonnie to you, kid. Glad to see you’re still keeping my boy in line.”
Chace’s small smile fell. “She does no such thing.”
Bonnie laughed, the sound of it plucked from an old movie.
I watched the men carry our bags inside as Bonnie took another drag of her cigarette and Chace asked, “What are you doing with the guest room?”
“I turned it into a little art studio,” she said.
Chace crossed his arms over his chest. “For you or for Tyler?”
Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “Have you seen your father yet?”
“Obviously not, we just got here.”
“Well, George’ll park your car, you know that. Why don’t you head on up there?”
Chace shuffled his feet against smooth cement, his hands climbing in his pockets. “Maybe later. Were you out on the boat?”
“Just about.” Bonnie said, rolling her cigarette between her fingers. “I was waiting for your -- There you are!”
Evelyn was the youngest Evans and the only girl. Beautiful and in early twenties, she’d been told since birth she should model but chose to work with computers instead. She was paler than the rest of them but shared the same glow as her brothers, one that rivaled the sun and captured your interest the second she stepped in your line of vision.
Her face and features were small and sharp enough to pull off the short haircut that fell to the tops of her ears. Small wisps of reddish-brown hair curved across her forehead, her brown eyes hidden behind large black sunglasses.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling the strap of her bikini top up on her shoulder. “I thought Dad was trying to say something.”
Bonnie’s eyes widened as Evelyn made her way over. “And was he?”
Evelyn shook her head, sadly. She turned to me. “Hello,” she said, sticking out her hand. “I don’t think we’ve ever met before. Are you the girl my brother cheated on Jennifer with?”
I shook her hand, ducking my head as my cheeks slowly enflamed with red.
Chace made a noise in the back of his throat, as if the thought of him sleeping with me was the most ridiculous thought in the world. It bit back a retort about the night before as he said, “No. She’s my assistant.” Then, “And I didn’t cheat on her.”
Evelyn nodded in acknowledgement. “Alice, right?”
A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “Yeah. And you’re Evelyn?”
“Evie,” she said with a bright grin. “Only my Dad calls me Evelyn.”
Bonnie led the three of us to the back of their estate, sipping on her drink in between puffs of her cigarette. I walked a few inches behind her, Evie and Chace a foot behind me, the two of them
whispering furiously in each other’s ears. I could barely hear them, their words running together like wisps of wind, some syllables shouted louder than others, but not enough for me to put together a coherent sentence.
I was completely taken by the Evans’s estate. It took us a good half-mile to get to the docks, my feet sliding down the small green hill, the sun reflecting off the deep blue water. They owned three medium-sized boats, all of them white and named after women in their family: Bonnie, Evelyn, and Darla (Chace’s grandmother).
“You ever been on a boat before?” Bonnie asked as she stepped onto the Darla.
I shook my head. “No. I haven’t.”
“Well,” she said with a smile. “Isn’t it your lucky day?”
***
We spent the morning and afternoon on the water, Evie and I tanning on the deck as Bonnie paced back and forth, laughing with her cell phone pressed to her ear. Chace sat behind the wheel, his suit jacket off and the top buttons of his dress shirt undone as he slaved over the manuscript in his lap. The publisher sent back a copy on Sunday morning, the pages marked up in red, hundreds of little notes scribbled in the corner. Change this, get rid of that.
Evelyn tried to get him to suck down more than one beer and, when she stripped off her dress to hop into the water, she tried to get him to jump in too. Chace expertly ignored her, head buried in his novel until she left him alone, in favor of splashing me.
The sun was descending when we made our way back to the estate, my hair and skin slick with the smell of the bay. Evelyn threw her arm around my shoulder and pulled me in close as she stumbled up the hill, drunk off three beers.
There was a lightness in my stomach that I hadn’t felt since I was a child. A sense of carelessness that washed over me the second I stepped out of Chace’s car. His family was estate was a small slice of paradise where I was unburdened by raising rent, inattentive landlords, and screaming children. Not once had I thought about losing my job or the trouble I would be in if Chace found out I was Veronica.
For a few hours I was uncomplicated and happy, the polar opposite of Chace.
Sixteen
We had dinner on the back porch. Bonnie, Evie, Chace and I sat around a long white picnic table, Evie next to me and Chace next to his mother, as two cooks brought out bowls of salads, pasta, and a plate of sizzling steaks. Bonnie popped open a bottle of wine and one of the men from before, the one who took my bag, poured Chace a glass of beer.
I sat with my hands in my lap, comfortable but uncomfortable, never having anyone wait on me unless I was in a restaurant. The Evans’s were at ease, conversation flowing without hesitation, even when the cook asked if everything was up to Bonnie’s usual standard.
I was piling pasta on my plate when Bonnie said to Chace, “You should take a plate up to your father.”
His shoulders tensed, fingers tightening around his steak knife. “That’s not my job.”
“No,” said Evie. “But he’d be happy to see you.”
Chace said nothing in response. He cut his steak into tiny squares, head down and gazed fixed on the succulent meat, purposefully avoiding the gaze of his sister and mother.
He’d been brooding since we stepped onto the boat and I wondered if it had anything to do with the hushed conversation he shared with his sister. I knew it had something to do with Jennifer because Evie couldn’t stop bringing her up. Jennifer loved you, you know. You should call her. Don’t you think you need to speak to her?
I was making a mental note to drive into town and buy a tabloid when one of the French doors, leading into the kitchen, opened. Out came Tyler, Chace’s younger brother, tugging a t-shirt down over his head. I caught a glimpse of his stomach, flat and carved with muscle. A faint scar running just above his belly button. A colorful arrangement of tattoos decorated his arms and his hair was long enough to brush against his shoulders.
“Longer than my goddamn sister’s,” Chace used to say, whenever we were in New York and Jonah brought up their other brother.
His eyes met mine and instantly I felt something set alight in the pit of my stomach. Nerves, excitement, all of it bursting and spreading to the tips of my fingers. The moment, which I’m sure lasted only for a few seconds, felt like an eternity, his grey eyes boring into mine before he looked away.
Tyler kissed his mother on the cheek and did the same to Evie, ignoring Chace and I until he took a seat on the other side of Bonnie.
“How was work?” Bonnie asked.
Tyler was piling two steaks on his plate when Chace said, “You have a job now?”
His brother smirked. “Yup. Bartending down at the Dirty Kitty. You remember that place don’t you, Chace?”
Evie rolled her eyes and turned towards me. “It’s a strip club. Chace used to go there all the time the summer before college.”
Chace’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t all the time and please stop telling her my business.”
“She knows all your business anyway,” Evie said. “That’s part of her job.”
A man shuffled out of the house, holding a sweating glass of beer. He placed it in front of Tyler who nodded in acknowledgment before taking a sip. “Who are you and why do you know so much about my brother?” he asked me with a raised eyebrow.
“Alice,” I said.
“She’s my assistant,” said Chace. “Now back to you, Tyler. I thought you were supposed to be going on ‘tour’ with your ‘band’.”
Tyler shrugged. “It didn’t work out.”
“Really?” said Chace. “And we all thought it was going to be a great success.”
“That’s enough,” Bonnie said, pointing her steak knife between Chace and Tyler. “This always happens when the two of you get in the same room.”
“What’s happening?” Chace said. “We’re just having a conversation.”
Tyler’s smirk widened across his mouth. “Yeah, ma, we’re just talking.” He shoved a healthy piece of meat in his mouth before he glanced back at me. I ducked my head almost instantly, a faint blush crawling up cheeks. “So, Alice, since you know so much about my brother can you explain why in the world he knocked up Jennifer Mitchel.”
A clatter of silverware hit the table. Bonnie’s head whipped in Chace’s direction, her eyes wide as she said, “You did what?”
My eyebrows furrowed. Tyler was staring at me, expectantly, one eyebrow raised as he awaited an answer.
“I...I don’t…”
I looked at Chace. His fingers flexed around his steak knife, gaze locked on the side of Tyler’s face as if he was trying to figure out the best way to leap over his mother and slice the knife over his brother’s skin. His eyes fell close as he took a deep breath, his chest expanding before he let go of his knife and fork and calmly stood up from the table.
Bonnie was watching him with wide eyes, her hand sliding up to touch him but he maneuvered out of her grasp. “Chace. Sit down and talk to me,” she said, but he wouldn’t.
I thought he would storm into the house but he turned away from us and wandered towards front of it, his feet sinking into the lawn as he disappeared into the darkness.
I made a move to stand and Evie placed her hand on my arm. “Don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “This literally happens all the time.”
Bonnie’s mouth twisted up in anger, her narrowed gaze turning towards Tyler, who was shoveling food in his mouth as if nothing was wrong. She slapped him in the back of his head and his shoulders tightened.
“He started it,” he said.
“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not seven years old anymore?” she asked through gritted teeth. Tyler didn’t respond. Bonnie looked at me. “Is it true? Did he get that girl pregnant?”
It took a moment for the words to escape my mouth. “I honestly don’t know.”
Seventeen
There were several wings in the Evans’ estate and my room was in the guest wing. Set towards the front of the house, my
bedroom overlooked the front lawn. Three large windows gave me the perfect view of the driveway and the estate up the road. The walls were painted a deep red, a shade darker than the silk sheets on my four-poster bed, and the carpet that ran beneath my bare feet. “The red room,” George called it.
Evie informed me that “the help” slept below me, on the first floor, while the rest of the family slumbered in the west wing.
“That’s where Chace will be,” she said. “When he finally comes home.”
Neither Evie nor Bonnie nor Tyler seemed alarmed by Chace’s absence, the four us watching television in the living room well into midnight. I was getting the feeling it was common practice for him to wander off when he was home.
I tried to sleep but couldn’t get comfortable, the sheets and mattress were too soft and the air conditioning too cold.
As much as I hated to admit it, my mind was racing with thoughts of Chace. I wondered if he was alright, if he was on the phone with Jonah begging him to come down and diffuse the entire situation. Or would he call Jennifer? Finally ready to talk about the baby.
The baby. He couldn’t have knocked her up. Chace owned a drawer full of condoms and frequently stated he was neither ready to settle down or have children, and I was sure Jennifer was on some form of birth control. But mistakes happen, that’s how my sister ended up with the twins.
I was pacing the floor when there was a knock at my bedroom door. It was soft and quick and I could hear it echoing in the hall. Dressed in tiny shorts and a t-shirt, I cracked it open and stuck out my head, the smell of alcohol assaulting my nostrils.
Chace pushed his way inside. His tie was askew and his hair was a mess atop his head. His dress shirt was only half-tucked in and his belt was missing from his pants. He looked as though he was caught fucking some girl and had to throw on his clothes before running back home.
“You’re drunk,” I said, closing the door.