“I thought it was weird too.” Beth nods. “I asked the guy from reception last week, and he said they were bought out earlier this year. The buyout came with a price increase, but also more services—like a guy who comes once a week for ceramics and a painting class.”
“Oh, well, that makes some sense then,” Marissa says. “And it’s nice if they have more activities.”
“Yeah,” I say absentmindedly. I’ll still sift through her invoices and finish reading her contract when I get home. Something smells off about this situation.
The topic shifts again, and soon, we’re all enjoying a nice—albeit slightly charred—barbecue lunch. The guys still have some progress to make on the grill, but the salads are delicious. As I sit back, stuffed, I start to wonder if I’ll even make it to the beach or if I should just crash on one of the pool loungers.
As if reading my mind, Emma says, “It’s up to you what you want to do this afternoon. Pool, beach, or naps in your rooms—just enjoy yourselves.”
“I vote beach,” James says, and Aaron meets him with a high-five.
“Same,” Marissa says. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt sand between my toes.”
“I second that,” Alice says with a glance at Deacon, who just shrugs.
“I’m good with whatever,” Baptiste says, getting up. “You decide, Harper. Just going to the restroom real quick.”
All eyes turn to me, and I smile. “I guess we’re going to the beach.”
“Awesome. I’ll grab a cooler,” Auston says, sliding the patio door open and disappearing inside.
“Another round of iced tea, anyone?” James asks. “This bottle’s almost empty—no point in taking it with us.”
Almost everyone nods, and he starts filling glasses.
“Froggy?” James asks, glancing around in search of Baptiste. “Where did he run off to? Do we save him some, or do we not care?”
“No need,” I say, standing up. “He only drinks it with lemon, and we’re all out.”
James goes quiet for a second, then nods. “Right. I never noticed that before.”
“Same…” Aaron says, almost in a whisper.
A few seconds later, Baptiste comes back to the table, and my heart quickens the way it always does when he’s around. Especially when he’s dressed in those cargo shorts and that green polo that makes his emerald eyes pop even more.
“We finished off the iced tea,” James tells him. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Nope. I prefer it with lemon anyway.”
“So we’ve heard,” Aaron says, eyes landing on me with intent.
Now everyone’s staring, and Baptiste just wrinkles his foreheadin confusion.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. I’m an investigative journalist. Analyzing people’s habits and behaviors is all part of the job.”
Baptiste presses his lips together, then smiles. “So… are we ready for the beach?”
24
Baptiste
Our first Hamptons beach day was a success. We’re all a little tanner, have sand in every place imaginable—or maybe it’s just me—and are pleasantly exhausted in that satisfying, end-of-summer-day way that makes your limbs feel heavy and your head light.
And of course, because everything is a competition with this group, we played some beach volleyball, and the winners got to choose what we’re doing tonight. The girls chose an old-school roller rink.
“I’m really not sure about this,” Adler mumbles as we approach the place. A neon sign in hot pink and turquoise is buzzing above the entrance, screaming80s vibesfrom half a block away.
“For the fifth time,” Beth sighs, exasperated, “you guys are hockey players. You know how to skate.”
