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She’d blurted “Who the fu—” before her brain kicked in to answer her own question.
“You uh, might wanna knock next time, shout a warning or some shit. We change in here.”
“We own in here,” said the leader of the pack.
Christy put her hands on her hips, cocked her head, and opened her mouth. Echo stepped directly in front of her. “We didn’t expect you guys until dinner,” she said. Coach Hannah came in, and then everyone was trying to get a word in with the guys who signed the checks.
Christy could not have cared less. They were out of their fucking minds, walking into a locker room like they owned the place just because they owned the place.
The mouthy one was a toothpaste ad, on a beach with a surfboard under one arm, and a flash and sparkle effect when he smiled. Today he wore loose fitting, gray exercise pants made of something shiny. She guessed one never knew when one might suddenly break into a workout. His hoodie said YALE on the front. Because what was the point of having gone there fifteen years ago, if everyone you meet for the rest of your life didn’t know?
He was flanked by two Gap-For-Men models, one of whom actually had a sweater over his shoulder and held it there with one hooked finger and the same kind of eyebrows you had right before you threw up.
She listened to the conversation to learn their names. Vomit-face had the darkest hair, the darkest skin, and the darkest eyes.
He was hot.
The other guy had naturally black hair but had bleached it, like he was going to try out for the next boy band. These men did not seem like they were pushing forty. Oh, their skin was puffy and bore fine lines, and their bellies were softly rounded. But the vibe they gave off, the attitude they struck, made it seem as if they’d matured up to twenty-three and hit a wall.
“Misty doesn’t seem glad to see us,” said the blonde.
“Her family came to town, Mr. White,” Toby said. “Surprise visit.”
Christy had seen the owners’ names in block type on a shipping invoice left lying on the bar by a delivery guy and snapped a photo, so she wouldn’t forget them. But she hadn’t known which was which until she heard them addressed by name. The beach boy was Barron White.
Toby caught her eye and he held it on purpose, long enough to let her know he’d said the name on purpose to help her out.
Right. Misty must already know these guys.
She tried to wipe off her bitch-face and pretended interest in the conversation. It wasn’t hard because the topic had shifted from inane kissing up, to the Missing Mermaid podcast.
“Is it having a negative effect on any of you?” That was Boy Band, Andrew Chay, which meant the hottie was Raphael James. The three of them had bought the place with graduation gifts from their wealthy fathers. Barron White had been quoted in the press as saying, “We always wanted our very own mermaids.”
She felt her lip curl as she recalled that bit from the podcast. Her sister’s podcast, she thought with a surge of pride. It made her stomach turn to think these three were going to be gawking at her from a private room tonight. Revulsion rose. She contained it.
“Nobody’s bothered us over that podcast,” Echo said. “At least not me.” She looked around at the others.
Jasmine said, “Me, neither.”
“And me, no more than usual,” Toby added. “Though my mom is all scared I’m not safe.”
Echo and Jasmine said, “Me, too,” and “Same.”
“Is it hurting business?” Christy asked.
“Bumping it up,” Barron White said, followed by, “I really love your hair, Misty.”
Shit. Her long blonde wig was still lying on the bench. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her, either. “I hate yours,” she said. “Even Bieber doesn’t wear it like that anymore.”
His brows went up, and the other two guys laughed out loud. “Told you, bruh,” said Andy Boybandy.
She managed not to roll her eyes.
“We just wanted to check in, though.” Barron was grinning as if he was in on the joke, rather than the butt of it. “Make sure you were all okay. And let you know we’re looking forward to the show tonight.”
Did his eyes dip when he said that? Like to her boob area? Her hands clenched as the trio turned to leave the locker room.
“Down, girl,” Toby whispered with a shoulder squeeze. “Remember, bonus.”
