Cassidy orders a beer and we take a table by the window, which looks out onto the parking lot and the highway. It's not the best view but the light is good at this hour — that warm, end-of-day thing the valley does when the sun gets low.
"So you're from Duster?" she asks, wrapping her hands around her glass. She has nice hands.
"Born and raised," I say.
"Wow. That's — I mean, that's commitment. I've been in Cawley for three weeks and I'm already climbing the walls. It's so quiet."
"It's not for everyone."
"What keeps you?" she asks.
"My animals, mostly."
"Right — your profile said something about animals. What do you do?"
"I run an animal sanctuary," I say. "Farm animal rescue. Pigs, goats, chickens, horses, and a donkey. I have a couple of volunteers and my mother still helps with the administrative side of things. She's the one who started it."
"That's so cool." Cassidy places a hand over her heart. "What's the sanctuary called?"
"Dawson's Sanctuary."
She tilts her head and I can see the connection forming — the slight narrowing of her eyes, the micro-movement of her lips. She's putting it together. "Wait. Dawson's. That's not —" She laughs. "That's not the one Princess Pigpen drove into, is it?"
"It is," I say.
"Holy shit." She sits back. "I read about that. The whole thing. She got sentenced, right? Community service?"
"Two months. Starting tomorrow."
"So she's actually going to be there? Sloane Archer? Working?"
"That's the idea."
"Oh my god, Maggie. That's insane." Her eyes widen and I feel the evening tipping in a direction I don't want it to go. "Can you imagine though? Sloane Archer in a pig pen. I mean, have you seen her Instagram? Everything about her life is beautiful. Everything. The clothes, the bags, the shoes."
"I don't know about that. I'm not on social media much," I say, my mind churning for a way to change the subject. I don't want to talk about Sloane Archer. I want to get to know Cassidy.
"Well, I'm sure she didn't mean to cause trouble. People panic. Especially when they've been drinking. I'm not saying it's okay, I'm just saying — she's not, like, evil. She's just — she's a beautiful and rich celebrity who made a stupid decision. It doesn't make her a monster."
I look at Cassidy. She's defending a woman she's never met to a woman she's sitting across from, and she doesn't even realize she's doing it. "She's not a celebrity," I say. "She's not an actress. She's not a singer. She hasn't done anything."
"She's a socialite and an influencer. She's got millions of followers." Cassidy grins. "I'd love to meet her. Do you think we could go for a drink sometime? The three of us?"
I raise a brow. "She crashed into my barn drunk and drove off. I won't be going for a drink with her, ever."
"Right, and that's —" Cassidy stops herself. "I didn't mean to — I know it was serious. I know it affected you. I just think it's kind of wild that she's going to be there. At your place. Like, you're going to see her every day."
"Yeah. Lucky me." I take a sip of my beer. "Sounds like you'd rather be on a date with Sloane Archer than me." It's meant to be sarcastic but Cassidy either doesn't hear the edge or chooses to skip right over it.
"I mean." She shrugs. "I would, but she's straight. So."
I smile but something has shifted. A woman who is this invested in a socialite she's never met is not someone I'm going to end up with. But Cassidy works in the only dental clinic nearby and I'm due a checkup in October. I'd rather not spend it in hostile silence while she scrapes my teeth.
"Anyway," I say. "Enough about Sloane Archer. Can we please talk about something else?" I nod toward the pool table that is now free. "Or how about a game?"
7
SLOANE
