And I don’t know why I say that out loud, because theypounce.
“Hold on. Did youalreadyfuck that maid? You work fast! How was she?”
“Stop,” I say through my teeth. “I didn’t fuck her. Drop it before I break your jaw.”
“I have a dentist on retainer,” Calder retorts, shrugging. “You’re obviously keepingsomethingfrom us, but regardless, I like Shawn’s little experiment. Use the maid as your plaything all week and if she hasn’t proven herself a gold digger by Friday, we’ll show up to first day of classes in the fall in matching pink tutus.”
“You would do that, anyway,” I mutter.
Calder leans in and shoulder-bumps me. “If you don’t play with her, man, I will.”
Fuck.
Panic bubbles to the surface.
If Calder purses Vida, he’ll lie to her. He won’t be kind. He’ll chew her up and spit her out because she’s too innocent for the ugly side of the flashy world I live in.
Maybe I should agree to their experiment, just to protect her?
What choice do I have?
“If she’s going to be mine for the week…to conduct this ridiculous experiment…then she’sonlymine.” I look him hard in the eye. “I don’t share.”
“Too bad,” Shawn comments. “Sharing is a lot of fun.”
“Fine. I’ll keep my hands to myself if we have a bet,” Calder says, holding out his hand. “I bet she shows her social-climber nature by Friday. If you lose, though, I want that vintage Porsche that’s collecting dust at your Carmel house.”
Relieved to have protected Vida, even by unconventional means, I shake his hand.
“Fine, you got a bet. Done.”
All I hope is that I won’t regret it.
FIVE
Vida
My favorite partof the day is undoing my braid.
I stand in the locker room now and unwind my hair, massaging the stiffness from my scalp. It falls in waves around my shoulders and the tension headache that has been building all day finally releases enough that I can take a deep breath. I change into the cut-off jean shorts and tank top I wore on my bike ride to work, slip my feet into sandals, and shoulder my backpack, waving to the nightshift maids as I push out the back door.
Where Tripp is waiting for me.
He is leaning against the wall in a black T-shirt, dark brown khakis, and sunglasses, speaking into his phone. When he sees me, he hangs up and slides the device into his pocket.
“Hi, Vida.”
I’m feeling too many things at once to process them all. Pleasure that he remembers my name. That he came to see me. But mainly I’m fearful over what his interest means. Rich youngmen don’t have pure intentions toward girls like me. I’ve heard the cautionary tales too many times to count. We’re an easy mark. Wealthy people marry other wealthy people, making us, working-class girls, nothing more than a no-commitment roll in the hay.
And that kind of thing may not carry consequences for him, but it will for me.
“You shouldn’t be down here,” I say, lurching for the bike rack. “I’m not supposed to socialize with guests. I could get fired.”
“I just want to talk.” He gives me a lopsided smile and pushes off the wall. “I won’t let you get fired.”
I hunker down to enter the combination to my lock. “How can you guarantee that?”
“Well…” He scrubs the back of his neck. “In addition to being an investor in this resort, my godfather owns the property.”
