“You gave your mom the file, right?” Madge asked Rose for what had to be the millionth time.
They’d just completed the presentation that morning. Lina felt confident, all things considered. It was nearly perfect. All sickly, wild-eyed, desperate-looking kids intermixed with flashes of naked Gregorys and grainy pictures of discreet drug deals. It was so entirely wrong, so sad and twisted, that Lina knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was going to work. And now it was show time.
She watched the parade of ancient gala women, dresses too short, waltz through the Club’s main doors. Botox, boobs, and bitches: the Club trifecta. She wondered if the horror would even show on their smooth, surgically frozen faces when they viewed the corrupted slides. The Captain’s neck would turn an angry red when his shame and revulsion became too much to bear. Lina wondered if she’d be able to see the exact moment the boys were disinherited, if she’d bear witness to the historic event. She’d be watching for it.
Of course there was someone else she’d have to watch out for tonight: Mari. A bubble of uncertainty rose up in Lina’s throat. She closed her eyes and reminded herself that as long as everything went as planned she’d have no problem silencing Mari. Madge wouldn’t care about all that money as long as the Gregorys were destroyed. That was the goal. That was what Lina needed to be focusing on right now.
“Your mom really has no idea?” Madge asked.
“No,” Rose murmured, her patience wearing thin. “She was just thrilled I actually helped her, and that I know PowerPoint. It’s all cued up and ready to roll.”
Madge nodded and headed into the courtyard, Sloane on her heels.
Lina paused for a second with Rose.
Hawthorne Lake Country Club was bathed in white. Creamy linens were draped over tables and chairs; lights sparkled from every tree; hundreds of white hydrangeas, snapdragons, and roses were bunched in vases on every available surface. But the most spectacular addition to the theatrics was the clear surface suspended over the pool, the tables situated on top, as if floating over the glowing water. All of the guests were required to wear white. Maybe someone believed it could be like fresh snow in a city, covering up the dirt and sludge, transforming sin to purity. Still, even though Lina knew exactly what lurked beneath the surface, she had to admit that it was stunning. The Captain had truly outdone himself this year, and she almost hated to ruin it. Almost.
Soon, an orchestra of overlapping conversations mixed with clinking wine glasses, punctuated every so often by the pop of a champagne bottle. The Captain was in his element. His laugh rained down upon the crowd, rivaled only by Trip’s. Even though the Captain acted as though Trip didn’t exist, the two were so similar. They glowed and preened in the spotlight, while James, the Captain’s favorite, lurked around the edges. She caught him exchanging harsh words with his brother. Trip’s eyes glazed over as James spoke, wandering in search of someone more important. She knew it was only a matter of time before someone slapped his back and he turned, leaving James to choke on whatever he wanted to communicate. It was the same exact thing her father did to her at breakfast, the same thing he did to her every time she said something that he didn’t agree with. Before she could stop herself, Lina felt sorry for James. And almost as instantaneously, she hated herself for it.
“Should we mingle?” Rose asked. Lina couldn’t determine if she was frightened or sarcastic.
Lina glanced at her. Rose wore an unflattering white dress, the high neckline doing nothing for her boobs, which were shoved in and flattened together like one large, lumpy pancake. Lina would have liked nothing more than to load the both of them into her car and head back to her closet where she had an airy sundress with a sweetheart neckline that would make Rose look like Sophia Loren. Willa would have approved. Instead, Lina grabbed Rose’s arm to yank her into the bathroom. They might not have time for a full makeover but surely she could do something about those boobs.
“Wait. My mom needs me. We’ll talk after.” Rose shot her an apologetic look and made her way over to her mother’s side. Not for the first time, Lina wondered if Pilar would be fired over what was about to happen. The girls hadn’t discussed that possibility, but she was surprised Rose hadn’t brought it up. She knew her family probably needed the money. Then again, Rose always seemed to be surprising Lina.
Sloane looked bored, fawned over by her parents, who showed her off proudly. She kept rolling her eyes at Lina, who scanned the courtyard for Madge. At least Madge was parentless tonight, too. Lina hated herself for thinking it, but it was true. Mr. and Mrs. Ames-Rowan had never missed a gala. Their absence and their surviving daughter’s attendance served as a reminder of Willa’s death, the one thing every single person at the Club was actively trying to forget. Because when it came down to it, they were all guilty. Every single person who was in the tent that night had also been on the yacht. And every single one of them had let James Gregory get away with murder. They might as well have driven the getaway car.
Finally she spotted Madge, alone in a corner.
As hard as these beautiful people tried to forget, tried to move on, tried to feign innocence, not one of them could bear to look at Madge. Lina wondered if it hurt to be ignored. But Madge sat almost painfully straight in her chair, a careful half smile on her face. If her demotion from Club darling to Club pariah stung, she didn’t let it show. Lina walked over and settled in next to her friend, resisting the urge to hug her close.
“Five minutes,” Madge whispered, her eyes fixed on the presentation screen. Maybe she was too busy with the War to notice anyone not noticing her. It wasn’t the same for Lina. Practically everywhere she went, she was noticed. If not for her sharp cheekbones and the graceful curve of her lips, then the shocking tattoos decorating her body. She was identified as “that tall girl” or “the pretty one” or if the person doing the identifying were a woman over forty, “the one with those tattoos.” Tonight was no different.
The squeal of a microphone tore Lina from her thoughts. The Captain appeared at the podium in front of the screen. Lina’s heart pounded, the pulse in her ears drowning out his words. He gave his usual speech about the power of community and generosity of Hawthorne Lake’s members. It was because of the Club that the children at St. Anthony’s Children’s Hospital were receiving a new multimillion-dollar art wing. The subtext? We at the Club have already moved beyond the charity created in Willa’s name. There’s no need to remember her. We have a new reason to pat ourselves on the back. As she watched the Captain speak, the entire audience hanging on each and every word, electricity coursed through Lina’s body. This was it. In a few minutes, the Gregorys would be destroyed.
The presentation began. Madge leaned forward in her seat. Sloane had broken away from her parents, and Rose pulled back from her mom. Lina imagined they wanted some distance to enjoy the show. Rose caught Lina’s eye, offering a hesitant smile, and for the first time, without even thinking, Lina returned it. A picture of a Disney starlet and a little boy in a hospital bed, tubes connected every which way, filled the screen. Lina knew what came next. She held her breath.
And there it was. The first picture. The $30,000 shot. Trip groping Mari in the locker room.
A hush fell over the crowd; women slapped hands over their mouths; men straightened. The Captain frowned at the silence that had spread over the room like a cloak. And he turned to the screen just in time to see old Trip up to no good. And then another picture of a sick child filled the screen, this one with a baseball cap on that did nothing to disguise the slashes of purple beneath the child’s eyes. Before the Captain could wonder if perhaps the image was a trick of the light, a figment of his imagination, James was next. His long torso, completely nude, covered by a photoshopped Rose. The Captain slowly lowered his drink.
“What the hell is this? Pilar! Turn this off. Immediately.”
He stood in front of the projector and tried to block an image of the drug deal with his broad shoulders. Pilar, incredibly ungraceful under pressure, bent behind the computer, pressing buttons and pulling cords, managing only to raise the volume on the presentation. Trip had the sense to appear stunned and James stared at the screen, his body rigid, his face stoic. With a desperate yank, Pilar pulled the plug, and the screen went black. But it was too late. Lina lowered herself back in her seat to watch the Captain, waiting for the moment.
He shook his head slowly for what felt like hours. And then he spoke.
“I apologize for that rather inappropriate disruption,” the Captain said rubbing his jaw with his hand. “It appears that my grandsons are having a bit of fun with their grandfather, and you all had the privilege of witnessing their little practical joke.” Trip tried to laugh it off, but his cheeks were too red. James just stalked away from the pool, his arm knocking into an empty chair making it wobble on its feet. The Captain continued to shake his head, and Lina wondered if he was going to disown the boys publicly, cutting them off in front of everyone as she hoped. She wanted to see Trip’s face when his party was broken up, she wanted to watch James punch something, wanted to see the boys unravel.
But when the Captain lifted his eyes back to the crowd, they were a softer shade of blue and one side of his lip twitched. If Lina didn’t know better, she’d say he was about to laugh. Was he? Madge stiffened, shaking her own head back and forth, confirming Lina’s suspicion. And then the Captain smiled. It was a moment all right. Just not the one she’d been waiting for. “But let’s not allow this joke to ruin the evening. After all, you know what they say, ‘boys will be boys.’ ” He winked at the crowd and some of the men chuckled. Most women still appeared a bit stunned. But no one said anything; no one called anyone out; no one voiced an opinion, if they even had one. Madge sat completely still, her hands shaking with barely suppressed rage.
“These boys keep me young,” the Captain continued. “But make no mistake. I taught them everything they know.”
This time a few women laughed, too. Bile rose in Lina’s throat making her cough.
“Your salads will be arriving shortly and after dinner, we’ll head to the ballroom for the silent auction. Enjoy!” And that was it.
Trip’s friends slapped his back. Salads were placed on tables and red wine poured into glasses. James had disappeared.
“This isn’t over.” Madge whispered the words so only Lina could hear, a bland smile plastered on her face. Lina scanned the crowd for the remaining girls. Rose stared at the screen her face blank with shock. Sloane’s eyes fell on Lina, tears glittering above her lashes. It was almost as if Willa had died all over again. Just like on the Fourth of July, their hands were bound, mouths sealed shut, the fight siphoned from them like gas from a rusty car. Lina’s phone buzzed in her clutch. Mari. She wanted her money. A wave of dizziness passed over her and she swayed dangerously in her chair. All of the hope she’d built up over the past few days had been snuffed out.
Lina shoved out from behind her chair and made a beeline for the golf course.
“Lina, wait!” Rose called after her.
But Lina ran—out of the patio, away from the sea of glittering white and chattering voices. How could she have been so stupid? Did she really believe she and her friends would have a chance against the Gregorys? She couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if Mari told the Captain who was behind those pictures. Some juvenile detention facility? Military school? By the time she found Mari sitting in front of the pin, ashing her cigarette into the hole, Lina was barefoot and tear streaked. She wasn’t sure when she’d begun crying, but now she couldn’t seem to stop.
“Here.” She tossed the roll of bills in Mari’s direction. “Take your damn money.”
Mari flipped through the bills and looked up at Lina from beneath her heavy lashes.
“I could have sworn we said sixty.”
“You’re out of your mind. Take it and get the hell out of here. I never want to see you again.”
“You sure about that? I mean, I don’t want to be a tattletale or anything, but I’m guessing your dad would be pretty pissed off if he knew about his only daughter’s sexual tendencies.”
“I don’t …” Lina tried to find the words, but the denial died on her lips. Who the hell was she kidding?
“You’re not getting a penny over whatever she just gave you.” Rose’s voice was clear and strong in the night.
Mari was on her feet and in Rose’s face in one fluid motion. “Oh look, you decided to become a maid to the little rich girls after all. Your mother must be so proud.” The key on Rose’s necklace caught in the moonlight. Mari lifted it off Rose’s chest. “Your friend over here has the same one, doesn’t she? Does that make you her bitch now?”
“I’d rather be her bitch than the Gregorys’ whore.”
For a second Lina thought she must have heard wrong.
Mari took a step backward and dropped her cigarette.
“Fine. I’ll keep your secrets so you can keep telling the same old lies. But eventually you’ll realize that the whores are the only women winning in this place.” Mari flashed her icy smile. “At least we’re getting paid.”
Lina watched as Mari stuffed the money into her pocket and walked toward the lake.
“How much did you give her?” Rose asked.
“Thirty thousand.” Lina shook her head and wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Madge is going to kill me.”
“Us,” Rose said softly. “She’s going to kill us.”
“No, it’s my fault. We had this … thing … on the Fourth and then she stole my phone and …”
“Are you sure?” Rose interrupted Lina. “Because I think I might have been the one who left it at the pool the other night.”
Lina stared at Rose for a beat before she realized that she’d never be able to get the words out. So instead of saying thank you, she did what Willa would have done. She linked her arm through Rose’s and walked her friend back to the Club.