Page 2

Picking up the blue pen next to my water bottle, I try to fix the azalea tattoo, but now it’s just a stain, smeared and too fuzzy to repair. So, I move to the other leg and start to sketch the roots of a sycamore tree.

A hushed gasp steals my attention. My head snaps up to see my mother gawking at the yard behind ours, hiding her face with her giant margarita glass filled to the brim with tequila, lime juice, and sugar.

“Oh my god.”

“Is that…?” My sister rushes to her side. The boys don’t seem the least bit interested; both are now elbow deep in a bag of chips on the patio table.

“Alexander Caldwell,” my mother whispers loud enough for everyone within a square mile to hear.

My eyes dance back and forth from the pen in my hand to the house behind ours.

Between our yard and the great white house behind us is a thick row of glossy green laurel hedges, tall enough to block the view. Because our house sits a bit higher, it’s easy to make out movement on the wide deck, and I notice a man in dark blue pants, tightly fitted and tapered above the ankle. He’s walking around the large yard, quiet and alone. I can’t make out his face yet to confirm my mother’s original claim. She’s been saying for weeks that there was a rumor the house was purchased by Pineridge’s richest and most elusive bachelor.

“No way,” Cadence breathes, her lips parting as she tries to watch him from the corner of her eye. She tiptoes around the pool, attempting to look as normal as possible just to steal a glance, and when she does, she sucks her lips between her teeth and walks back with a stifled smile and wide eyes. “Oh my god, it is!”

My mother squeals, and Cadence slaps a hand over her mouth.

“What is he doing in a big house like that?” Cadence whispers.

“Who cares? He’s loaded. He can live wherever he wants.”

“Is he still single?” Cadence continues, casting another look over Mom’s shoulder.

“Single enough. That man will never get married.”

Cadence starts fixing her hair. Even after a day in the pool without makeup and a blow dryer, she still looks like someone you’d see in a perfume commercial. My sister has that natural beauty that draws men in like bees to honey, and that attention has been her lifeblood since she was fifteen.

“Well, he hasn’t met me yet.”

Mom and Cadence break out in a tittered laugh as I steal another look at the man across the yard. I’ve seen Alexander Caldwell online, mostly when he did charity benefits or when he started dating a supermodel in the valley, showing up online and making Pineridge proud.

But I’ve never seen him in person.

He’s walking in the grass now, seemingly inspecting his new property and unaware of the two snipers behind him, ready to pounce. He disappears behind the six-foot hedges. From a distance, the green wall looks impenetrable, but up close, there’s a thin gap in the foliage—just wide enough for someone to slip through into the yard beyond.

I used to hide there as a kid to escape the fighting in my house. I’d burrow out there like a fox in a hole.

And when Alexander suddenly appears through the hole in the hedge, it’s obvious he’s discovered it.

“Oh my god, he’s coming this way,” Cadence mouths quietly.

“Hey, neighbor!” my mom shouts in a singsong tone as she stands up and waves.

“Jesus, Mom,” Cadence mutters.

“Sorry to bother you,” he calls back. “It seems these hedges need patching.”

My mother couldn’t give a damn about those hedges, and she ignores the observation. “Can I interest you in a margarita?”

He takes a step farther into our yard, sliding his hands into his pockets and staring up at us through his expensive-looking sunglasses.

My lips part as I stare. That’s him. Alexander Caldwell, practically in my backyard.

There’s a thinly veiled grimace on his face as he hesitates to respond. I imagine he’s trying to find a reason to decline my overeager mother’s invitation. With her man-eater energy, I wouldn’t doubt she could tie him up and chain him to the porch if given the chance.

“Sure, what the hell…” he says as he joins us on the stone-floor pool deck.

My sister practically jumps forward to greet him while my mother pours his drink.