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Curtie squeezes Birdie’s arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to powder my nose. Bryce, can you get me another Mai Tai?” Curtie scampers away, taking her phone out. I can’t stop her. We’re moments from aftermath. Zane’s grip on me is about to cut me in half.

Birdie’s face softens. “Honey, it’s so refreshing to see you affectionate with Kat. Sweetheart, you’re a blessing to Zane and to us. Try not to outshine your brother and his bride. You’ll have your time.” I’m going to puke.

Birdie follows Curtie to garner intel on my family. It’s what my mom would do. The men close their circle to the right of us. Zane’s as stunned as I am.

I speak through my teeth. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

“Golf cart, now.”

Chapter 20

Worst Party Ever

KAT

Maui

We head to our respective escape routes. Everything shifts now that my parents are involved. It feels like a car accident, it all happened so quickly, and the details of the actual incident are fuzzy. The convergence of everything had to be perfect to arrive at this crash. Years of overlapping intersecting lives, the juncture of our shared philosophy about our upbringing and really bad luck. All brought us to this moment. And Utah? The factors trace back to my father’s ninth grade year, for sweet fancy fuck’s sake.

Now our engagement and breakup will make club newsletters. There’ll be calls and slaps on the back. It’s like the breeding of two thoroughbreds. I thought I was going to have a laugh or two and a free trip to Hawaii. Now I get to field a series of pointed questions from Nan. Sitting here exposed in the golf cart, I really have nothing. Not even this pretend thing we were doing. I know exactly who to blame. And it’s not Serge.

I run my fingers around the edge of my mouth to remove any errant lipstick. All I’ve been able to seal off in my life has busted wide open in the last twenty minutes. He fucked up my hiding spot. I hope he has a blowtorch of an idea to cram everything back behind the secure fire door where I keep my parents sealed in the dark. Zane’s effort to keep his life closed has exposed my soft underbelly to the hypocritical world I’ve been fighting against since ballroom dance class at the age of eight. Fuck him.

He jumps in the cart and peels out. My issues with my upbringing or their expectations were fine in the abstract since I witnessed his problems firsthand. But now my issues are about to dial my phone until I answer. My small perfect bag rings from where it’s nestled in my huge tutu skirt as if on cue.

“Ignore it,” he mutters.

“Duh,” I say and he doesn’t even crack a smile. He speeds back to our villa.

He helps me out of the cart, walks inside and directly to the bar, pouring whiskey shots. I stand next to him and do it faster than he does. He pours two more as I fix two Hendrick’s and very little tonic. As I remove my shoes and flop down onto our deck overlooking the dark ocean, Zane speaks first. “I’m fucked.”

“Hold up, motherfucker. Don’t you mean we’re fucked? This is your scam, not mine. But now we’re in it.”

“No one was supposed to know about Chad. How the fuck does our story work if you’re just out of a relationship?” My phone blares with her Beastie Boys ring tone, “So What’cha, What’cha , What’cha Want.” I send it to voice mail.

I catch my breath. “That’s your problem? Not that our lie just went viral? We can say Chad and I separated months ago but made it official recently. He broke up with me over text, it’s highly believable we weren’t on a good path. Use the same story we have been saying. That we were friends and then there was an opportunity. Also, who the fuck are we telling this story to? This is over. This is nothing. And it’s your fault not mine.”

There’s a brief respite in his anger. “Even I wouldn’t do that. Wow, that’s cold. I didn’t know it was a text. Why didn’t you tell me this in the helicopter?”

“Because it didn’t matter. It’s embarrassing and our civility was only supposed to be extended for a weekend.”

He gets right in my face and stares at me. I see the loathing but also the same spark I’ve ignored for the last day and a half. Or possibly since Vegas. “It’s not right.”

My breath shudders out as he backs out of my face. “Book me a plane ticket to Portland,” I announce.

“What the hell is in Portland?”

“No clue. But I know what’s not. My parents, this situation, my friends and family. And most importantly, you. Portland is a clean slate of green space. Book it now, fancy boy. I’m becoming a barista or a brewmaster.”

I storm into the villa and sit with my skirt blousing up around me.

He’s right on my heels. My phone rings again and I sit on it. “Listen up, Harpy. This is fucked beyond belief but even I can see this isn’t fucking nothing.”

My breath catches as I clutch the chair arms. His face is so close to mine and there’s a look that makes me want to fuck this feeling away. This awful situation would be so much better with orgasms.

He slowly backs away and the look in his eyes hardens. “And you’d be terrible at both of those jobs, you can’t even sip water without spilling it.”

I exhale and he paces the room. I arrange the skirt around me. “How was I supposed to know the Goodknows would be here? I didn’t know I’d be here.”