“Oh my God! Jack!”
Baby woke up to squeals emanating from the sitting room. What the hell? She’d been having this weird dream where she’d been in charge of planning Riley and Layla’s wedding, except somehow, she’d ended up marrying both of them. It seemed very weird and Freudian and she was sort of glad to be woken up.
“What are you doing here?!”
Baby hadn’t heard Avery so excited since she’d won the Miss Lobster Queen title back in ninth grade. What the hell was Jack Laurent doing here? Didn’t she have enough lives to ruin in New York? Baby closed her eyes again, hoping it was just some sort of weird dream-within-a-dream.
“Well, I missed you.” Jack’s voice carried through to the other room.
“I can’t believe your dad let you come! This is so perfect!” Avery cried, completely ignoring the fact that Baby and Layla were sleeping in the next room. Or rather, Baby was pretending to sleep. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and padded over to her suitcase, which was bursting with flowy, cottony dresses, cutoff skirts, and bathing suits. She’d never been a good packer, preferring to just throw the contents of a drawer into her suitcase and see what happened. Besides, she could always borrow from Avery. She rifled through her suitcase until she found a string bikini and a skirt she’d made out of a pair of Avery’s discarded Sevens. She pulled on an aquamarine thrift store T-shirt that had a Blue Bunny ice cream logo on the front. She’d cut the back into strips to give it a little bit of punk sex appeal. Avery hated the shirt, which was why she wore it.
She walked across the cool stone floors and opened the door to the sitting room, where Avery was pawing through Jack’s Louis Vuitton duffel trunk. The two girls were totally oblivious to her presence.
“Is this new?” Avery demanded, holding up a strappy lemon-colored dress in front of her frame. Jack was wearing a similar dress in apricot. “I like it.”
“Of course you do. Did you notice you’re wearing the same one?” Baby said, interrupting their fashion show. Was their friendship really just about complimenting each other’s clothes all the time?
“Oh, your sister’s here.” Jack glanced up from her perch on the brown-and-white-striped love seat. “Nice shirt,” she said, not even bothering to hide her sarcasm. Ever since J.P. and Baby had briefly dated, Jack had made it no secret that she hated Baby. Now that she and Avery were friends, Jack wasn’t overtly mean, but the two of them tried to stay out of each other’s way.
“Why are you here?” Baby asked directly.
“I needed a change from New York.” Jack shrugged but didn’t offer any more details. That was the truth, after all. Jack had left J.P.’s quickly after their non-attempt at sex and had gone back to the town house, where her family had already come back from their dinner at Rebecca’s parents’. As soon as she stepped in the door, she knew she had to get out. The twins had been especially loud, hopped up on too much pumpkin pie and Dora the Explorer, and her dad and stepmom had seemed exhausted and harried. Jack saw a future weekend of babysitting flash before her eyes, and she knew she simply couldn’t maintain her sanity with the Wiggles as her weekend sound track. She booked a ticket to the Bahamas, explaining to her dad and J.P. that Avery needed her for emotional support. Her dad had consented, probably because he was far too exhausted dealing with the twins to protest, and J.P. had been nice about it, if a little disappointed. He told her to take plenty of pictures and that he would be there in spirit. It was sweet.
Maybe too sweet?
“Baby just wears that to piss me off.” Avery stuck her tongue out at her sister.
“You guys are so loud,” Baby whined as she walked over to the sliding doors. She flung them open, taking a moment to admire the way the sun reflected on the water. Instantly, she calmed down a little bit. Yeah, Jack Laurent sucked, but at least the scenery was nice.
“So, are you hanging out with Layla today?” Avery called out to Baby.
Baby shrugged. She knew Avery well enough to know that meant that she’d rather Baby not hang around with her and Jack. Not like she’d want to. They’d probably spend the whole day lying on the beach, followed by hours at the spa. Baby was sick of just lying around. She wanted to do something.
Or, um, someone?
Baby wandered back into the sitting room. “Oh, I forgot. There’s a note for you. I think it’s from Remington,” Avery said, her arms elbow-high in Jack’s suitcase as she examined its contents with the precision of a surgeon.
“Weird,” Baby mumbled, wondering why on earth her mom’s boyfriend—make that fiancé—was writing her. She picked up the note from the countertop and saw that it was in fact from Remington, letting her know that he had set everything up for her and Riley to go riding today.
“I guess he made us some riding reservations,” Baby explained. She glanced from a distracted Avery over to Jack, who seemed impatient to get rid of her. Even though she’d planned on avoiding Riley, hanging out with him suddenly seemed like her best option. “I’d better head down that way.” She grabbed a pair of jeans to wear later and headed out the doors and onto the wraparound patio.
“’Bye,” Jack called sweetly. Baby didn’t bother to respond.
“Is this good?” Avery called to Jack, choosing a blue-and-white cabana at one end of the hotel pool. Since Jack had arrived an hour ago, Avery had been dying to delve into a long, girly conversation. Baby was her sister and all, but for some reason Avery hadn’t wanted to talk to her about the Rhys thing. Besides, she wanted some outsider perspective on her mom’s engagement.
“Sure!” Jack sprawled on one of the linen-covered lounge chairs and sighed. “God, this is so much better than New York. It was so boring without you! And the stepbrats were fucking monsters. Remind me to never have children.” Jack shuddered and pushed her D&G sunglasses on top of her auburn hair.
“Don’t tell me, tell J.P.!” Avery giggled. She pulled her container of Bliss suntan lotion out of her See by Chloé watermelon pink beach bag and slowly squeezed some onto her arms.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Jack rolled her eyes. “Can I have some of your sunscreen?” She held out a dainty, manicured hand.
Avery regarded Jack curiously. Even though she and Jack had become good friends in the past month, she’d never really heard Jack talk about anything personal. Instead, they’d talk about sample sales, totally unacceptable behavior by other Constance students, what parties they were going to go to, and what they were going to wear. Thinking about it, Avery didn’t know Jack’s favorite color or if she’d slept with a stuffed animal when she was little or if she ever had braces or any of the totally normal things you were supposed to know about a best friend. It seemed Jack had been born totally beautiful, confident, and sure of herself. Or at least, she wanted everyone to believe that. Avery knew from firsthand experience—when she’d discovered Jack living in the tiny garret above her former town house after her dad cut her and her mom off—that Jack had her own insecurities and hidden secrets.
Avery was about to find the politest way to probe Jack about J.P. when she noticed a group of people on the other side of the pool. Avery could just make out a blond guy and a brown-haired guy, sitting beside two scantily clad girls, drinking and playing in the water. It was Owen.
And Rhys.
She couldn’t see Rhys’s face, since he was turned toward the submerged bar, but she certainly saw one of the girl’s arms draped possessively around his neck. They were at least fifty yards away, but Avery thought she could even hear them laughing. There were empty glasses on the edge of the pool on either side of them. And it was what, 11 a.m.? Had they just been there all morning, drinking and flirting? Were they on a double date?
“What?” Jack asked curiously. Avery was stuffing her towel and sunblock back into her beach tote. She motioned toward the pool.
“I know when Owen’s flirting. I don’t want to ruin his game,” Avery lied. She ignored the tears pricking her eyes. “Besides, no one’s here, anyway. I want to go to the beach.”
“Owen?” Jack asked, standing up to follow Avery’s gaze. From across the pool, she suddenly saw what Avery was staring at. She recognized Owen’s shock of blond hair and his white teeth as he threw his head back, laughing at something Rhys Sterling had said. Or maybe it was something one of those skanky girls with them had said. They were hot in that trashy, look-at-me sort of way, and one of the girls was practically rubbing herself against Owen’s tanned torso. Jack suddenly felt like she was going to be sick, and it wasn’t from the early morning flight.
She grabbed her things and went to follow Avery toward the beach, glad that they weren’t sticking around to watch. She suddenly felt extremely stupid and extremely annoyed with herself. What had she been thinking—that she’d arrive in the Bahamas and fall immediately into Owen’s arms?
Avery marched away, her cork Hollywould platforms thwacking down the sandstone stairs. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, hating herself for getting so upset. An uneven black smear of mascara stayed on her hand. Fuck. Why was she wearing mascara to the beach, anyway? To impress Rhys? It was so stupid. It wasn’t like they’d even kissed. And yet for the first time in her life, she felt like she’d let a guy make a total and complete fool out of her.
The white strip of beach below the pool was set up with the same blue-and-white striped cabanas as the hotel. Avery quickly popped into one. She needed to relax and regroup, and hopefully avoid Rhys and his new girlfriend. At least until she was appropriately rested and fabulous.
“Would you ladies like a drink?” A skinny beach waiter in khaki shorts and a white linen shirt poked his head into the cabana, proffering woven straw menus.
Jack waved the menus away. “Mimosas. And muffins. And French toast,” she added. “We’re on vacation, fuck calories,” Jack announced as she pulled off her flowy white Milly sundress and tossed it onto the sand, revealing her black Calvin Klein halter bathing suit.
Avery shot her a grateful smile, suddenly feeling a teeny bit better. It was really sweet of Jack to sympathy-eat with her, even though Avery hadn’t told her what was going on.
“And Danish!” Avery called after the waiter. Why not? She might as well feed her sorrows. She pulled off her own green-and-orange Lilly Pulitzer dress and readjusted the straps of her gold Eres bikini. There. She had her best friend, the sun, and someone catering to her every whim. Forget Rhys. She’d be fine.
“Okay, so details!” Jack pressed after she had settled onto her back. “Your mom’s getting married.”
“Yeah,” Avery said, nodding. Right. The engagement. That was why Jack thought she was upset. Which was good, because she really didn’t feel like talking about Rhys, now that she knew he’d never even liked her in the first place. “You know, Remington’s kind of weird, but my mom loves him. And he loves her.” And he doesn’t flirt with half-naked pool sluts, she thought mutinously.
Jack blinked her green eyes toward Avery, nodding in understanding. “Well, it’s better than my mom. She’s having an affair with a fucking nineteen-year-old French dude named Guillaume. I mean, really, what the fuck?” Jack began, even though she didn’t really want to talk about her mom and Guillaume. Or about Avery’s mom and her weird fiancé. Ever since she saw Owen’s white-blond hair and broad shoulders from across the pool, all she wanted to talk about was Owen. She couldn’t believe she had just left him with those sluts. Jack knew she was being ridiculous—it wasn’t like Owen could have known she was coming. But seeing him with someone else had hurt, in a way that seeing J.P. with Baby Carlyle never had.
“Boys are all asses.” Avery sighed as the waiter appeared with a carafe of mimosas, along with a tray of French toast and a basket with mixed Danish and muffins.
“Including your brother?” Jack asked, she hoped subtly. She flipped over to her stomach and undid her straps so she wouldn’t get any weird tan lines.
“Well, he’s always been a player,” Avery said as she grabbed a Danish. She bit into it, but it was stale and hard. “At least in Nantucket he was. But since we got to New York, it was pretty much just him and Kelsey. You know, until he pretended to date you.” Avery shook her head, remembering when Owen and Jack had pretended to be a couple. Avery put the Danish down and plucked a blueberry muffin from the basket. While it had been a bitchy and devious move on Jack’s part, it was almost flattering that Jack had gone to such great lengths to get under her skin. “But back in Nantucket, he hooked up with everyone.”
“Really?” Jack wrinkled her nose. She sounded a little upset, but Avery couldn’t tell behind her enormous D&G sunglasses.
“Why do you want to know?” Avery asked, suddenly suspicious. Did Jack have a crush on Owen or something? But what about her boyfriend?
“Is everything okay with J.P.?” Avery asked point-blank.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jack said, suddenly very focused on rubbing sunscreen into her tan arms. “The stepbrats’ nanny has off until Monday and it’s brutal. I needed to get out of the house. And, of course, I wanted to see you!” Jack added.
“Okay,” Avery said uncertainly. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of the sun baking her skin. But she couldn’t relax. The excitement of the morning had dissipated, and in its place she felt only disappointment and exhaustion.
“You know, I’m actually really tired,” Avery said, standing up. She felt bad ditching Jack, but right now, she wasn’t going to be much fun anyway. “I was up late last night and I think I just need a quick catnap. I’ll call the desk to have a key card made for you,” Avery said as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “Bye!”
She didn’t wait for Jack’s response as she walked the long way up the beach, so she wouldn’t have to cross the pool. All along the sand were couples of all ages. Everyone looked so happy. What was her problem?
Avery hurried toward the villa. Maybe she could just take a nap, and when she woke up this entire morning would be like a dream.
In fairy tales, only Prince Charming can wake you….