To my surprise, Parker threads his fingers through mine and offers a polite nod, sheathing the panty-dropping smile that gets him just about everything he wants. "Nice to meet you. Would you mind if I spoke with Lana for a second?"
Ashton glances at her watch. "I guess we don't have to finish the tour right now, but we have to be at the cart station in ten minutes."
"I just need five," Parker says, flashing a hint of his charm at her. She smiles back automatically, bewitched.
"Sure."
Parker wraps his arm around my waist and forcefully leads me away from the girls, combatting my resisting feet.
"What?!" I snap, spinning out of his hold once we're far enough away.
"What do you mean, 'what'?" he asks, confused. "I haven't seen you in almost a month. And the last time I did, was the night--"
"I know what night it was," I interrupt, looking around--afraid of being overheard.
"Lana, I feel responsible in some way."
"Why? You didn't do anything wrong." Then after a second, I add, "Right?" Because I still don't know what happened to Allie after I left her in the stairwell ... in the care of Parker and his team.
"No," he assures me. "But I can't help but feel like I should've done something more. To keep you from being," he lowers his voice and whispers, "arrested."
"Well, you convinced your dad to represent me, so there's that. Although, right now I'm not sure if I'm really happy with that decision either."
"Why? What happened?"
"I'm here. In the middle of fricken nowhere."
"It's better to be here, trust me."
"I don't belong at that school. This isn't my life, Parker."
"It could be," he says like the possibility appeals to him.
"What?" I stare at him like he's insane.
"I'm just saying, you've been gifted an amazing opportunity. Give it a try. You might find that you belong here more than you realize."
"Why? Are you ashamed of who I am?"
"No!" He widens his eyes in adamant denial. "But you deserve a chance to do something with your life."
I groan. "I am so sick of people telling me that I need to be something. It's such bullshit."
"Lana, we should probably get going," Ashton calls to me.
I start walking around Parker, but he grabs my arm. I eye his hand and then him with a cocked brow. He drops it. "I've been staying at the family's lake house with Lily this week. I need to see you before I go."
As if she could hear us, Lily says, "I'm having people over tonight. You ladies should absolutely come. You know where the house is, right, Ashton?"
"I do. But I don't know if Lana--"
"I'll have my dad sign her out," Parker finishes like he knows what Ashton's about to say.
"Okay," Ashton replies, a smile in her voice. "We'll see you tonight."
I'm annoyed they all decided this for me. So just to be a bitch, I say, "Maybe." And walk away.
"Lana! You'd better show!" Parker shouts.
I grind my teeth and my clench my fists as we continue around to the back of the Clubhouse. I catch Ashton's ridiculous grin out of the corner of my eye, like she figured us out and is amused.
I open my mouth to deny whatever she's assuming, but close it and tense my jaw again.
"Not mutual, huh?" she laughs.
"No," I huff. I am so irritated, I can't form words--only grunts and grumbles of frustration. Ashton laughs harder.
"Do you want to go tonight? I'm not sure if you'll be able to since it's only your second night. Newbies have restrictions for the first month or so, but you also didn't mention Niall Harrison's your lawyer."
"You know Niall?"
"Of course. He's one of the best. I should know."
"Really?" I ask, intrigued.
She grins deviously. "We're all at Blackwood for a reason, right?"
I laugh.
"Lily always throws the most amazing parties. It'll be fun. And I'll sacrifice myself so Parker won't come anywhere near you." She winks and I roll my eyes.
"I'll go," I say with a resigned sigh.
A golf cart comes into sight, or I should say a bar on wheels with shelves stocked with liquor and snacks wrapped around a cooler built into the back.
"Hey!" Ashton calls to the guys dumping ice into the coolers.
The blonde straightens. Holy shit, he's tall. Easily over six feet, which means he might as well be a giant. And ... I'm staring. Because he's flawless. And I mean in the way sculptors immortalized Greek Gods from marble flawless.
The guy with dark hair, who had his back to us when we approached, turns around. "Yes! A hot new girl."
"Shut it, Rhett," Ashton threatens. "Grant, this is Lana. Lana this is Grant ... and shithead."
"Hey, that wound's deep, Ash," the dark-haired shithead clutches his chest.
"Hi," Grant says, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
"Hi," I reply dumbly, fighting the urge to smile back, because I know if I do, it'll be one of those doe-eyed girl smiles. And I would hate myself if I looked at anyone that way. So I bite my lip instead, which is also a bad idea, because now I look like I'm trying to give one of those seductive, lip-bite smiles. Please, someone save me from myself.
There's a slight flush to Grant's cheeks, probably from lifting the huge bags of ice. He has the ruddy Scandinavian complexion that tans easily, but flushes easily too. He's at the beginning stages of the tan. His blond hair has sun-bleached streaks mixed in with shades of gold and honey.
Heat spreads across my cheeks, and I have to look away because I never blush, and the sensation is making my head feel light. Fine. He's beautiful. But why the hell am I acting like a star-struck lunatic?
"Tablet's all charged up. There's cash in the box. You're all stocked and ready to serve the course," he tells Ashton. He addresses both of us. "Have fun out there."
"I'll be seeing you at the ninth," the shithead says with an eyebrow waggle that makes me outwardly cringe. Grant laughs at my reaction. I smile at him before looking down again. I swear a giddy thirteen-year-old has possessed my body.
"Lay-off creeper. You don't want her to file a restraining order on her first day," Ashton throws at him.
Ashton climbs in the front and I sit next to her on the passenger side. When she turns the key, it sounds like a damn lawnmower. I thought it would be much quieter.
The cart beeps when she backs out of the spot and jerks when we move forward. I have to grab onto the sidebar to keep from falling out.
"You'll get used to it," she assures me as we drive along a paved path toward the golf course.
"So ... you like the good guys. I never would have guessed it," she says with a goofy smile.
"What?" I scoff.
"Grant. I saw."
I roll my eyes dismissively. Only because I can't seem to find the right words to describe what happened. I'm not quite sure myself since I've only been an idiot around one other guy, and that didn't end so well.
"It's okay. I mean, if you were to gush over anyone, Prince Philip is worthy."
"You call him Prince Philip? As in Sleeping Beauty?"
"Yes!" she laughs. "Not many get that reference. His last name is Philips. And well, he's a fricken prince, in all the ways that fairytales get it right."
"Are you kidding me?" I snort, disbelieving.
"Not at all. He's a good guy. Again, I would never have guessed you go for that type."
"I don't even know him!" I say in a weak defense. "Besides, how do you know he's really a good guy?"
The corner of Ashton's lip twitches in a devious smirk. "Because he's not my type."
One day, as Thaylina was gathering herbs and berries in the forest, she heard the most beautiful voice singing. The enchanting voice lured her deep into the woods until she came upon a shadowed figure dressed in a deep green cloak.
"Why are you alone in the woods?" the deep, smooth voice asked the girl.
"What are you doing alone in the woo
ds?" she asked in return.
"Waiting for you." A tall handsome man came into view. A sly smile on his lips. A shine in his eye. And sharp point to his teeth. "And now, here you are."
By four o'clock, I've learned that golfers have an easier time parting with their fives and tens after the ninth hole, than most patrons at Stella's were at releasing singles. And even though I'll never see a paycheck for every hour I work, no one can take the cash I make as co-bev cart girl from my pocket. I have no idea what I'll need the money for, but it's nice to know I have it--just in case I need to send some home.
I also learned that, unlike Stella's, the country club is law-abiding regarding its alcohol service. Since I'm under eighteen, I can only dole out waters, sodas and sports drinks, along with any snacks. Ashton turned eighteen two months ago and was recently promoted to head bev cart girl for the summer. Thankfully, she doesn't care about the law and topped our Cokes with rum while we waited for golfers to hit the fricken ball.
Which is the last thing I learned today ... golf is boring! Because our cart is diesel and loud, we weren't permitted to pass through the course if someone was getting ready to swing or putt. It was torture having to wait for the players, mostly men, to line up their shots and swing.
One of the highlights of the afternoon was when we reached the shack at the ninth hole and were able to cool off in the air-conditioned bathroom while waiting for the cart to be restocked. This is also where I met Stefan, the head bartender. Not in the bathroom, but tending the Ninth Bar. He has this peculiar intellectual, man-of-mystery kind of vibe going on. Ashton told me he's a grad student at Columbia and has worked at the club every summer since he was sixteen. He throws parties at his family's summer cabin regularly and doesn't care who attends, meaning all ages welcome. He's all about good energy.
"I think he's kissed half the girls on staff, and a few members' wives too," Ashton gossiped while we balanced with one foot on the toilet, leaning against the counter to allow the cool air from the air conditioner direct access to our underarms. "But he can get away with it. For some reason, he doesn't come across as skeevy. It's like everyone likes him. Everyone. There's this crazy magnetic field around him that attracts people to him, and if some of those people end up kissing him, so be it. It's like it's no big deal."
Even after only meeting him for maybe two minutes, I totally understood what she meant.
"See you at Lily's tonight?" he asks us as we're sliding back into the bev cart.
"Wouldn't miss it," Ashton calls to him as she presses on the gas a little too hard, almost rocketing me from my seat. I holler in surprise, which makes her start laughing. I join her. It was pretty funny.
"How are we getting to Lily's? Do you have a car on campus?"
"We're not allowed cars on campus, but we'll secure a ride. Don't worry."
I discover I had no reason to worry when we step out onto the main steps of the administration building and find Parker waiting for us beside his Land Rover.
Or maybe I should be a little worried.
"How did this happen?" I ask, but it sounds more like an accusation. Except I don't know who I'm directing it at.
"I told you I'd get you signed out." Parker opens the passenger door, waiting. "Did you bring a bathing suit?"
I open the back door and slide in, allowing Ashton to sit in front. Parker's smile falters when I don't do as expected. Whatever.
"They're in here," Ashton tells him, holding up her shiny gold tote bag. "Thank you for driving us. It's sweet of you."
"Of course," he replies as he shuts the door behind him. "I wanted to spend some time with Lana before I left." He adjusts the mirror so he directs his electric blue eyes right at me.
It's going to be impossible to avoid him, especially without Nina here to distract him. And it's not that I don't like him. Parker is charming, intelligent, and has this irresistible confidence that's incredibly sexy. But for so many reasons, I have to keep my walls up around him, especially when I really want to smash them down.
"How big is this party?" I ask as we exit the school's enormous wrought iron gates and pull onto the road that abuts the property. There's nothing but trees on either side. It seriously feels like we're the only ones in this town. It's so weird.
"I'm not sure," Parker answers. "Lily's invited everyone."
"Everyone knows Lily," Ashton interjects. "She's your cousin, right? I thought she said this was her mother's family home that you all share?"
"It is." Parker glances back at me at the mention of his family, probably trying to read my face. Because, yes, I'm silently asking if Joey will be there. He shakes his head ever so slightly. I relax into the seat with relief. I could go all summer, or a lifetime, without having to see him again. "But Lily gets more use out of it than we do, especially during the summer. My mother stays there during the school year to commute to Dartmouth. I almost never come up. It's too quiet for me. I prefer the city."
I fight to suppress a grin, not surprised by his answer. Maybe we are more alike than I want to admit.
Ashton peppers Parker with questions the remainder of the ride, and even though we're supposedly in the same town, it takes us a half hour to get to Lily's because everything is so spread out. And it doesn't help when we finally turn onto the road leading to the house and its dirt, forcing Parker to drive like five miles an hour the entire bumpy mile or two.
The enormous luxury cabin is isolated, surrounded by thick woods without a neighbor in sight. I spotted small wooden signs with numbers nailed to trees at the head of dirt roads that branched off of the one we were on. I assume they lead to other homes, but they can't be seen from here. Cars overflow out of the driveway and continue along the tree line. Parker drives past them into the circular driveway and double parks next to an Audi coupe in front of the main doors.
Even though it's still daylight, all of the lights shine through the contemporary wooden cabin with angles of glass and beamed overhangs. I'm having a hard time even calling it a cabin since it's bigger than any house I've ever seen.
As we enter, the music bounces around the open cathedral ceiling and out the open doors to the back. I only get a second to glance around the ultra-modern leather, granite and glass design of the main living space and the shiny stainless and marble kitchen, before we're swept up by the energy outdoors. The party is taking place on a two-level deck that connects to a dock jutting out into the water. People are talking, laughing, swimming, and eating everywhere. It's like a big barbecue, but so much nicer. Everyone is dressed like they just stepped off a yacht, or flew in on a private jet--casual luxury.
I noticed it today at the country club too, or maybe I was more sensitive to it than others because I've never been exposed to this much wealth in my entire life--it was obvious who came from money and who didn't. And it wasn't based on if they were working at the club versus a member. Because other privileged students, whether enrolled in private schools or college, work at the country club alongside the local students and residents. And the wealthy weren't more attractive or better dressed. Some had horrible fashion sense, to be honest. But they distinguish themselves in the way they talk, move, and generally hold themselves--the elongated posture, the carefree laugh and the ease in which they do ... everything. I think if Ashton were to find herself cut off from her trust fund, she'd still have that extra something about her that screams she grew up with money. It's engrained in her DNA.
And here at Lily's party, it wreaks of privilege and wealth. I'm choking on it, like walking into a room filled with smokers--the only person who notices the stench is the one who doesn't smoke. The smoke doesn't bother me, as long as they don't blow it my face.
Parker has his hand on my lower back, guiding me through. I silently plead with Ashton with to intercept him, and she makes a face that says she's trying. But Parker knows what he's doing, and no matter who approaches, or what obstacle of people we have to maneuver around, he remains tethered to me. And I very much need to break free ...
before I don't want to.
"You're here!" Lily is in front of us. She's wearing a blush pink string bikini top with a mini white sarong. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, and her skin is glowing. Again, I'm caught off-guard by how effortlessly perfect she appears. "You should put on your suits. Ashton, you know where the changing rooms are downstairs, right?"
"I do," Ashton tells her. "We'll be right back." Ashton takes my hand and snaps me away from Parker before he can react, and I feel like kissing her.
"Thank. You," I exaggerate each word, relieved to have broken free.
"What is the situation with you two?" Ashton walks down a set of steps off the deck that lead to a basement level. She pushes a glass slider open, revealing a cozy sitting room.
"He and one of my best friends hook up regularly. And even though they both say it's nothing, I don't touch anyone my friends have. No exceptions."
Ashton laughs. "Girl, either you won't have many friends at Blackwood, or you won't be hooking up with any guys. It's impossible not to recycle here."
"Recycle?" I cringe, having no problem interpreting the meaning, but disturbed by it all the same. Ashton laughs again. "I don't plan on being here long enough for it to matter."
"He seems like a decent guy, and he's definitely into you. I'm not going to throw myself at someone who doesn't want to be with me. Sorry."
"I know. He really isn't a bad guy. I just ... I don't trust myself, and I can't face Nina if anything were to happen. I know she's lying when she says she doesn't care about him. And even though they really are toxic for each other, I can't go there. Maybe now that we're away from him, it'll be easier to avoid him."
"I can totally help you avoid."
Ashton hands me my suit when we enter a hall lined with three partially opened plank doors. "Meet me here. We'll walk out together." She disappears into a room. I enter and find a dressing room with its own shower. And I don't know why this is my trigger, but ... What the hell am I doing here?
A few minutes later, I emerge in my two-piece, oily-black halter and strappy bottoms. It's a bit of a sporty look, but it keeps everything tucked in place in a way string bikinis don't. Whereas Ashton is all legs in her one-piece that cuts high and plunges low, with a mini sarong loosely draped on her hips. I thank my platform sandals for giving my diminutive stature every inch of added height.