Chapter 10

It’s not exactly a moat…but I’ll accept drowning here.

– Marcella

“I must admit,” Brigid, sprawled atop a plastic pink float in the massive pool outside my and Penny’s castle mansion, murmurs, “it is difficult to argue with the benefits.”

“Try harder,” I mutter.

Paddling adorably in her floral swim cap, Penny does her laps around the deep end, AKA the only part of the entire pool where she can’t touch the bottom. “He’s told you he doesn’t even need the husband and wife stuff. Can we abandon all our morals and just go through with it, for the perks ?”

Seated on the shallow end steps, head just above the water, I glare at my friends. Who suck, by the way. “Clearly, you can.”

“While I was growing up, my sister said she was going to sell me to the prince of a foreign country for oil shares. This is totally a better deal than that.” Penny beams, catching all the sunlight.

“Marsh only wants company,” Brigid says, lamely kicking her way over to the side where a tray of treats and drinks rest in the shade. Without any prompting at all, the housemaid Teresa set us up a little buffet, smiled, and went back inside to make sure I would never see dust again. Plucking a strawberry, Brigid takes a bite. “If you’re adamantly against this, let me ask Cody if he’s okay with letting me be a billionaire’s special friend.”

“I don’t think Cody’s the type to share.”

“Never mind asking, then. He’s a firefighter. Long shifts. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Oh. Okay. I get it. Screw morals. We no longer have consciences, period.

Must’ve missed that memo.

Leaning back, I let my legs float while I hold onto the metal railing that cuts down the center of the steps. “Nobody cares about my emotions anymore. Not now that they have access to a pool .”

“A pool in Georgia is a very important thing.” Brigid lifts one of the martini glasses, sniffs the contents, and takes a sip. “Hey, Pens. I don’t think this is alcoholic. It seems to be frozen lemonade.”

Gasping, Penny flippers her way over. “Yay! Juice.”

Non-alcoholic martinis…

Probably because F-man’s worried what other billionaire wife positions I’ll apply for if I get drunk again. Jokes on him. I now have PTSD whenever I so much as look at a form.

“I’ve been keeping a horrible secret from you both,” I begin, pitifully.

My friends, sipping their martinis, glance my way.

As dramatic as humanly possible, I face the pool wall. “When he stole me away from my beloved home and dumped me off here…he told me to bring only the necessities .”

“That makes logical sense. He also then immediately bought you everything you would ever need, so letting you take anything with you from that molded-over apartment was merciful. He could have wrapped you up in a towel like a stressed dog and wrangled you into the back of his limo.” Brigid does not sound sympathetic to my immense struggles at all.

But I have barely scratched the surface.

“You don’t understand. He insulted the penguin pebbles.”

“ No! ” Penny’s gasp rings in my ears like the validation I so desperately require.

I let my lip jut. “It’s true. He said, and I quote, ‘Why do you need that bucket of rocks?’”

While I was curled up in my throw blanket. Like a traumatized creature. Hugging my bucket of rocks and ambling to my car.

I will not specify that his tone was wholly curious and entirely friendly.

Because when isn’t it?

Brigid in all her good sense drawls, “Why did you need the bucket of penguin pebbles? There were literal cops outside. Your awful neighbors were firing guns . Your penguin friends would have graciously understood leaving their pebbles behind until the next day.”

I scowl at Brigid. “You have lost your way.”

Pushing her wet, straight black hair over her shoulder, she says, “At least I don’t get drunk and fill out marriage candidate tests.”

“Yeah. Because you don’t have to. Because someone already introduced you to your husband.” It was me. I did it. “If only I’d had that same courtesy provided me. By my so-called penguin friends.”

Penny, halfway through a second martini, which I think was supposed to be mine, says, “Girls, girls. Please don’t quarrel. Remember, one of us has neither husband nor billionaire boyfriend who wants to give her his credit card.”

Brigid pats Penny’s swim cap. “Perspective. You’re right. At least we aren’t sad like you. Have a strawberry.”

While Penny nibbles on the offered strawberry, I sag underwater and blow bubbles until I am completely out of air. Without full lungs, I’ve sunk against the bumps of the stairs. And before my heart starts to starve, I convince myself I could live on the pool floor forever. There’s a peace in the sensory deprivation of it.

Once my organs are crying and rioting against their evil dictator, I plunge into the air and push water off my face.

“Oh good,” Brigid says. “I thought we were about to witness a second suicide in your family.”

“First attempts rarely bear fruit.” I fold my arms. “Bold of you to assume the odds aren’t stacked against me.”

Endearingly gentle, Penny smiles. “We came up with a brilliant plan while you were contemplating mortality.”

I arch a brow.

“It’s simple, really.” Brigid plucks a cube of sweating cheese off the treat platter and brings it to her lips. “Accept it if you dare.”

I’m daring sometimes. On the weekends, usually.

And, wouldn’t you know, it’s the first Sunday of September…

“Okay. Hit me. What devious plot have you two concocted?”

The grins they throw each other do not inspire much confidence at all.