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Jenna rolled her eyes, and then acted as if she was reciting the definition from Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary:
“Twinkie: (n) young, innocent beautiful female that has no nutritional value; a snack to tide one over until the real thing comes along.
I resisted the urge to jump over the table and slap her. Wow, one morning with Gina had already changed me into an east coast girl. I got up from the table, not wanting to spend one more minute in the company of such a nasty bitch.
“I’ll see you back in the cellar, Gina. I've a phone call to make.”
I hurried outside, pulling my phone out of my pocket and called Trey’s phone. Of course, I got his voicemail. I didn’t care. At the moment, he was responsible for my being cast into “Twinkdom,” and he was going to get his fair share of the crap.
“Trey it’s me, Tylar. You have my number. My message will be extremely brief: I AM NOT YOUR FREAKING TWINKIE!” I pushed the end button and strode back to the wine cellar, still seething.
Twinkie my ass!
I reported back to the wine cellar, putting my apron on and starting back to work. Gina came in just a few minutes later.
“Hey,” she said, “don’t worry about that bitch Jenna. She's just jealous. I mean, you know that right?”
“What could she possibly be jealous about?” I asked, putting a new roll of labels onto the round spindle.
“Uhh hello? You landed the second most gorgeous, sexiest man in the western hemisphere?”
“Who’s the first?” I asked.
“Why my Ian, of course!”
We both laughed.
“No really, Gina,” I said, “it’s not what you think with Trey and me. He’s just got this sort of protective older brother kind of thing going on with me, you know?”
“Sure, I understand,” she replied, smiling. “It’s not all that unusual. I think they call it incest?”
“No seriously,” I explained, “It's not like that. He feels totally protective of me on account of something that occurred a few weeks back. If you don't believe it, stay at the manor with me this week. You'll see that I have my own room, and there's nothing going on. I won’t hear from him because of a big trial starting tomorrow. Now is thatreallyhow a guy treats hisTwinkie?”
We both started laughing. The rest of the afternoon went quickly. Gina took me up on my offer to stay at the manor, saying that wealth had its advantages. I was eager to find out. We decided it would be fun to go swimming and maybe have a barbeque outside. Gina and I decided to walk back to the manor after our shift. I let her know that I needed stop off at my cottage to get some more clothes, since it was on the way. We took the trail and walked through the woods, coming out at the bank of cottages on the Sinclair estate.
I didn’t go into much detail about why I wasn't staying at my cottage, only telling her that someone had left a menacing item there. Once we were inside everything looked to be in place. I located my backpack and emptied the rest of my underwear and sleepwear drawers into it. I packed my swimsuits and the rest of my toiletries and make-up.
Gina was looking through my stack of CDs in the living room. “You have some good music here,” she said. “Here open your backpack, let’s take these with us.”
We headed out the door. Gina stooped to pick up a piece of paper on the floor we hadn't seen coming in.
“This must be yours,” she said, handing the folded piece of paper to me. I opened it and read the note, written in inky, block letters:
Sissy, I miss the sweet taste of your cunt. Where have you been? Don’t worry, I'll find you.
“Let me see, Ty,” Gina said. I handed her the folded paper.
“Shit,” she said, handing it back to me. “Is this the reason you don’t stay here?” I nodded. “Aw jeez I’m sorry about nosing into your business like I did this morning. I totally understand why you can’t stay here with some maniac stalker fucking with you like this. It’s good of Trey to worry about you and make sure that you’re safe. He’s a good guy, ya know?”
I nodded, still numbly holding the paper. This latest communication was clearly meant to terrorize me. Who did this? Mom might know. But where was Mom?
“Listen,” Gina said as we locked the cabin behind us, “I’ll ask Aunt Becky to bring my clothes over. We’ll hang out; find something fun to do to take your mind off of this, okay?”
I nodded again.
Arriving at the manor, Gina got settled into a guest room in the “east wing.” She did have her own bathroom, but it wasn't nearly as luxurious as Trey’s badass bathroom. I retrieved Trey’s bathrobe and went over to his suite to take a shower. Everything in his suite was clean and orderly. I was disappointed that the room didn’t smell like his aftershave anymore. I needed my Trey fix and nothing in there provided that now. I showered, brushed my teeth, and went back to my room wearing Trey’s bathrobe, I heard my cell phone ringing. It was Trey.
“Hello,” I answered, bracing myself for his anger over the message I'd left on his phone earlier.
