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She did. “Why does that terrify you, Betasitter?”
I lifted an eyebrow as we reached the third level, where the map in my room had indicated the bar was located. “Because I don’t swim.”
She stopped, gaping at me, her tongue pink against the near-black lipstick. “You don’t know how to swim? Why would you come out on a boat? There are two pools. And the entire ocean. We’ll be swimming every day. Snorkeling.”
“I won’t,” I said, shuddering at the thought. “And I knowhowto swim. I just can’t.” I lowered my voice so she had to get closer. “I’m a sinker.”
“A what?”
“A sinker,” I repeated. “I have negative buoyancy. High bone mass. It means when I go into the water, unlike you, I don’t float. I sink.” I stopped and tapped my chin with one finger. “Not as fast as my great-grandfather did, thank goodness. Perks of being a woman and having slightly more body fat.” She looked like she didn’t believe me, so I went on. “Go ahead, look it up. It’s a genetic condition. My great-grandfather would vouch for me.” I paused dramatically. “But he drowned, of course.”
“I will look it up,” she said, grasping the brass handles of the door to our right. “If you’re lying, my mother will fire you. She can’t abide liars.”
I opened the door just as she turned to go, and met her dark eyes. “I lift my lids,” I murmured, “and all is born again. I think I—”
“—made you up inside my head,” she finished, following me now into the bar. “You really know it?”
“Yes. I memorized it in my senior year of high school. Did your mother name you for Sylvia Plath?”
For a moment, I thought she might laugh, but her face went flat and eyes wide, as she peered over my shoulder.
“What an inappropriate personal question, Miss Fairweather.” I whirled to see Giovanni Grantham standing against the back wall of the wood-paneled room, next to a seated woman that had to be his sister. They both watched me like I was a venomous spider, and they weren’t sure if I was the jumping kind or not.
Lorelei half-stood and asked, “You’re Soleil Fairweather? The betasitter?” She sniffed, then peeked down at her phone, as if to check.
“Oh, it’s her,” Giovanni growled. He had changed into another suit, a darker one, for some reason. Lorelei wore a shimmering sapphire cocktail dress that I was almost certain I’d seen on a television awards show recently.
I glanced down at my mismatched sandals and shrugged internally. I was never going to measure up to these people, at least not in their eyes. And all I was here for was a job. “Excuse me, Mr. Grump—Mr. Grantham,” I said with a nod. Next to me, Sylvia snorted. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I was getting to know Sylvia. She is incredibly intelligent—”
Another voice, with an odd, quasi-British accent, interrupted me. “Did someone die?”A man I hadn’t noticed moved out from behind the bar. He was a huge alpha, dressed in a suit with diamond cufflinks winking at his wrists, but his face looked like he’d made his fortune in a boxing ring.He laid a hand on Lorelei’s waist and kissed the side of her hair as he moved past. “I asked you a question, Sylvia. Did someone die?” His voice was warm, but I noticed a slight tremor run through Sylvia’s thin frame, and I stepped slightly in front of her instinctively.
He narrowed his eyes at me. I didn’t move, though. I had no idea who this man was, but the instant the other adults in the room couldn’t see his expression, it changed. His smile grew sharp edges, his eyes lost their sparkle, and even his scent grew slightly thicker, a boiled cabbage odor that forced me to breathe through my mouth.
“No, Alphonse,” Sylvia finally replied. “No one died.”
“Then why are you dressed for a funeral, my little crumpet? We’ve spoken about this already.”
Giovanni started coughing then, almost covering Sylvia’s muttered, “Call me a crumpet again, and therewillbe a funeral.”
“Sylvia!” Lorelei hissed.
Alphonse laughed. “Now, now, is that any way to talk to your new dad?”
There was a moment of silence, before Sylvia’s enraged shout filled the room. “My dad is dead. You’ll never be anything like he was. You’re nothing.”
The spark of fury in the man’s eyes had me moving even more squarely in front of the little girl. I pasted on my million-dollar smile and held out a hand, even if touching this man was the last thing I wanted to do. “Hello, I’m Soleil Fairweather. I’m betasitting on board this week. We haven’t met?”
He grabbed my hand, but instead of shaking it, leaned down and pressed his lips to the tops of my fingers.
A strange rumbling noise came from the corner of the room.
“I’m Alphonse Dubois,” the alpha said, squeezing my fingers so tightly it hurt. “And the luckiest man in the world.” He dropped my hand, leaving a smear of his alpha stench behind. I tucked it behind me, rubbing it roughly on the back of my dress.
Suddenly, Lorelei was there at his side. “What was that, Fons?” Her eyes flashed at her fiancé, then at me.
“Trying for sophisticated,” Alphonse said, pulling her into his side. “You’re always saying I’m too uncivilized. How am I ever going to fit in with your family if I don’t learn to behave?”
Lorelei laughed, a high trill of sound that was as beautiful as it was brittle. “Maybe I like you uncivilized. But don’t crowd the…betasitter.”
