“Easy drive.” Drew pauses for a moment. “I thought you two were going to be out tonight.”
“Adele decided she wasn’t feeling up to another country club get-together,” his dad explains.
“They have them all the time. In fact, there will be another one later this week, and we want you both to come with us.” She waves an elegant hand and flashes a smile,her teeth straight and white and so disgustingly perfect I want to punch them in and watch them fall out of her mouth. For whatever reason, she brings out a violent streak in me. “I wanted to be here to greet you.”
“Totally not necessary,” Drew mutters, his fingers digging into my flesh.
This is just so weird. No one seems to like each other, and there’s this undercurrent of electricity flowing between all four of us that’s downright painful. I saw a bit of affection between Drew and his dad but other than that, everyone’s wary and full of distrust. It’s like they all say stuff but mean something completely different.
Creepy different.
For a fleeting moment, I’m tempted to grab Drew’s hand and drag him out of here. The vibe in this place is that bad.
But I don’t.
“You’re staying in the guesthouse for the week. I had both bedrooms cleaned and made up for the two of you,” his dad is saying, drawing my attention since Adele is trying to interrupt him.
“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” Adele blurts, clamping her lips shut. Her disapproval is clear.
Drew’s dad rolls his eyes. “He’s twenty-freaking-one years old, Adele. Let’s give them a little privacy.”
Huh. So the stepmom doesn’t want us fornicating for fear we’ll be struck dead by some all-knowing God, and the dad is encouraging us to get it on by giving us a private sanctuary to escape to.
This is all just so freaking weird.
“Thanks, Dad. The guesthouse will work out great.” The relief in Drew’s voice is clear, and I must confess, I’m relieved, too. I don’t want to stay in this house with these people. They don’t seem to like me much.
Well, one acts like he might like metoomuch, and the other hardly wants to look at me at all.
“I’m sure you both need to rest.” Drew’s dad winks at him.Winksat him and then slaps him on the back, sending him a step forward with the force of it, taking me along as well. “Meet us in the breakfast nook by eight a.m. Maria is making her famous omelets.”
They have a cook. I’m totally blown away. There’s too much money flowing around here, and all three of them seem so miserable or brittle or so damn fake, how can they be happy? I always believed money could buy me happiness. I’m counting on that wad of cash sitting in my checking account to make Owen and me happy for at least a solid three months, though I know that’s pushing it.
I’m starting to realize money doesn’t buy happinessat all. And there I go again. I’m another walking, talking cliché.
Drew
The second we walk into the guesthouse, I exhale a huge sigh of relief, thankful to be out of that stifling house where I grew up. I still can’t believe how Adele acted toward me, like a jealous girlfriend ready to sink her claws into Fable. Calling her my little Fable—what the hell?
And my dad blatantly checked her out. It made my skin fucking crawl, and I’m not the one who got the once-over. This is far worse than I thought it would be and I’m embarrassed.
Maybe we should leave. Maybe I should put Fable on a bus and send her back home so I don’t have to subject her to this any longer. It’s awful, and I don’t want to put her through it. I’ll even let her keep the money.
“Your parents are freaks.”
Her sweet voice insulting the people who raised me shocks me so much, I start to laugh. And once I start, I can’t seem to stop. It feels good. When had I last laughed like this? I can’t remember.
“Are you laughing because I’m telling the truth, or because it’s better to laugh than yell at me for knocking yourparents?” Fable sounds a little nervous, but I detect amusement in her tone, too.
“You’re brutally honest and I appreciate it,” I finally say once I find my voice again. “And I agree. Theyarefreaks.”
“It was so tense in there. I don’t get it.” She glances around the guesthouse. With its open floor plan and a wall of windows facing the ocean that’s almost identical to the one in the main house, it’s still impressive, but on a less grand scale. It’s a lot more comfortable in here; it doesn’t give off that “look but don’t touch” vibe. “Oh, you have a deck outside. I want to check it out.”
I watch her slip through the living area, heading toward the door, which she unlocks and opens without hesitation. I follow her onto the deck, curious to hear more of her observations on my freaky family.
She’s already leaning against the railing facing the ocean, the wind blowing through her long pale hair. She reaches into the pocket of her thin black coat and pulls out a single cigarette and a lighter, her expression full of embarrassment. “I’ve pretty much broken the habit, I swear, but I like to carry a few cigs with me in case of an emergency.”
“And what happened in there is considered an emergency?”