I open my purse and count the cash. Enough. I'm about to give him my own address but change my mind and decide to go to my parents' house instead.
"Bel-Air, please," I say.
38
MAGGIE
The bench under the oak is where I come when the morning rounds aren't enough to settle me. I have a second coffee in one hand and my phone in the other. Hank is grazing a few feet away. He always finds me when I sit out here.
I shouldn't be on my phone but I open the search bar and type her name anyway. There hasn't been a fresh headline on Sloane in days, so I'm surprised to see all the new articles.
PRINCESS PIGPEN'S MALIBU MELTDOWN.
There's a picture of Sloane standing, her face furious, pointing at a woman across the table who's holding up a phone. Behind her, half out of frame, is Sita, looking shocked with her mouth wide open. I read the caption.Archer appeared visibly unstable, lashing out at her own group of friends before storming out.
There's also a photograph of a man in a white shirt, with something dark soaking down the front of it, his face wet.Heiress hurls champagne at ex-boyfriend Tyler Ashworth in Malibu's hottest new opening,the caption says.
The next is of Sloane walking out, with Sita following her.
I sigh and put my phone on the bench. Wow. Apparently one night back was enough to get her into trouble again.
Hank lifts his head and I follow his gaze. Mom's car is coming up the drive.
She parks and gets out with a paper bag and a thermos. Her back is bothering her — I can see it from here, in the pause before she walks. She lifts the bag.
"Bagels," she calls. "Don't get up. I have coffee too!" She crosses the yard slowly. Hank meets her halfway and she stops to scratch under his chin and feed him an apple. "Hello, my handsome boy. Have you been keeping an eye on Maggie for me?" Then she carries on to the bench and lowers herself onto it next to me.
"How are you, honey?" She frowns as she studies me. "You look tired. Have you slept at all?"
"Yeah, I slept fine," I lie, and sip my coffee.
Mom opens the bag and hands me a cream cheese bagel. "Did you see the news on Sloane this morning?"
"You read it?"
"Of course I read it. She's been all over my feed." She unscrews the thermos. "I heard she had a helicopter exit. That must have been something. Back to her old ways, it seems."
"She's not a bad person, Mom. It's just whatever the media makes of it. You should really stop reading that stuff, you know."
"You're reading it."
I look away. "I just wanted to know she was okay." I point to Mom's thermos, changing the subject. "Why did you bring your own coffee? I could have made you one."
"Oh, you know I like to drink while I drive. Coffee, that is. Not champagne." She huffs. "Unlike some."
Great. We're back to Sloane.
She puts a hand on my thigh. "I'm coming by on Tuesday to meet that troublemaker. I want to make sure she's behaving."
I laugh in spite of myself. "Sloane is perfectly fine, Mom. I actually like her."
"That so?"
"Yeah." I look down at my bagel. I'm not hungry and it's Sloane's fault. There's a fluttery, restless thing in me that I can't switch off. "It's just… We made a mistake." I look back at Mom. I tell her everything. I always have. I might as well save us both the trouble of pretending otherwise.
She waits.
"We kissed."
