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It’s a truth universally acknowledged that a Fitzgerald family barbecue cannot start on time, end quietly, or go more than fifteen minutes without someone threatening bodily harm over control of the grill.
So today’s chaos is right on schedule. Which should please Hudson to no end. The man is obsessively punctual.
Ayda – my very cute but suddenly very grown up niece – is riding around on her toddler brother’s truck, her body too big for it, her legs too long. And he’s chasing her like a man possessed, his scream piercing through the afternoon air.
Asher and West are playing table tennis like the fate of the world depends on it, and Parker is acting as the referee, making calls that have them both furious.
Meanwhile, Hudson is grilling like a man on a mission.
Just another Fitzgerald day of fun.
“Cocktail,” Skyler murmurs, passing me a glass. “Don’t ask me what’s in it, just know it will make this more bearable.”
“Do you have a non-alcoholic version?” Autumn asks her, rubbing her almost-there bump. “I need to pretend I’m normal.”
Francie, Asher’s wife, slides her hands around Autumn’s waist, and for a second the three of them – Skyler, Autumn, and Francie – look like the coolest girl gang I know.
Asher shouts some kind of demonic curse from the table tennis table then slams his racket on the surface. Francie grimaces, and West looks over at me.
A slow smile pulls at his lips. And I find myself smiling back at him. The past few days, since my tour of the resort, have been… good.
It’s as though we’ve slipped into this quiet little rhythm – working, eating dinner, teasing each other about things like gray water filtration and his obsession with keeping everything clean and immaculate.
It almost feels real.
Except it’s not. And I have to keep reminding myself of that.
“Hey, you look upset,” Skyler says, nudging me gently. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I tell her. “Lost in thought. Thinking about what I have to do to persuade West to implement a black water sewage system.”
Skyler side eyes me. “There’s no way you’ll convince him. Hudson told me you’d suggested it.”
“What’s a black water sewage system?” Francie asks, sipping her cocktail.
“You really,reallydon’t want to know,” Skyler says.
Francie raises an eyebrow. “But I do want to know. I’m a writer. I’m nosy. Maybe I could use it in a book.”
I grin, because Francie is a girl after my own heart. Plus anybody who lives with a man as bossy as Asher can handle anything that’s thrown her way. “Let’s just say it involves turning poop into something useful.”
Autumn makes a face. “Are you trying to turn the resort into a sewage farm?”
“Not exactly,” I say brightly. “But don’t worry, West told me if I mention it again he’s going to dump unprocessed black water on me.”
Well, it wasn’t quite that. What he actually said was, “If you say the word fecal one more time, I’m going to feed you to the damn fishes.”
Close enough. But I’m not worried, especially since I can swim better than he can.
Francie laughs. “So what’s it like living with West?” she asks me, genuinely interested. “The man is so hot I swear even Mylene gets all gushy when he walks in.”
I think about him in the shower the other night. Groaning with pleasure. My cheeks heat up.
“Very boring,” I tell them. “He’s pretty much a workaholic.”
“Ugh,” Francie says. “That is boring.”
“Ignore her,” Autumn tells me, a smile on her lips. “She’s working on her next book and she’s looking for inspiration. Apparently, all of Asher’s moves got used up in the last trilogy. She needs fresh meat.”
