Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

D ean was serving appetizers to the guests lounging on the pool deck when he noticed Amy coming out of the pool house. She carried herself with an air of entitlement, her designer sunglasses perched on her nose and a flashy handbag swinging from her arm.

The moment she noticed him, her smile widened and she arched slightly so that her breasts stuck out a little more. It was a move he and every other man knew very well, one that screamed the woman wanted attention.

As she approached him, he hoped she would pass by without saying anything to him. No such luck.

"Hey, Dean," Amy said, her voice dripping with a forced sweetness. She took off her sunglasses slowly and gave him a once-over, her eyes lingering a little too long.

"Amy," Dean replied, keeping his tone professional. "How was your massage?"

"Oh, it was just what I needed," she purred, stepping closer. "You know, you look like you could use a massage yourself. Maybe we could schedule one for…just the two of us?" She winked, her intent clear.

Dean maintained his composure, even though the offer made his skin crawl. "Thanks, but I'm good."

Amy's smile faded, replaced by a look of irritation. "Too busy for a little fun?"

"Yup," he said, still keeping his answers short. He'd learned a long time ago that it irritated her when he didn't give her the attention she wanted. Knowing how she treated Andrea, he loved to irritate her.

"That's a shame." She leaned in, lowering her voice. "You know, you don't have to be so uptight. I bet we could have a real good time together."

Dean took a step back, maintaining a respectful distance. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not interested. I don't dally with married women," he added just to piss her off.

Amy's eyes narrowed, and after a moment, she let out a haughty laugh. "Your loss," she said, loud enough for several nearby guests to hear. "I can't believe my sister works in a place like this. It's so…tacky."

Dean's jaw tightened, but he kept his expression neutral. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I guess it isn't too tacky to hold your charity events or for your weekly massage sessions?"

Amy waved a dismissive hand. "Please. This place is a joke. Just like Andrea, always settling for second best."

"Andrea hasn't settled," he started, but she glanced down at her watch. His words seemed to have bounced right off her.

"I can't waste any more time here. I'm going to be late for a very important meeting with the owners of the Destin Golf Club." She looked around to see if the guests around them had heard, as if she was trying to impress strangers for some reason. Then she turned and walked away without another word, her heels clicking sharply against the stone pathway.

Dean felt a pang of frustration but took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn't let Amy's words get under his skin. As he turned back to his work, he noticed an older couple looking sympathetically at him.

"Don't let her get to you, young man," the woman said kindly. "This camp is wonderful, and you're doing a great job."

The woman's husband nodded in agreement. "She's the tacky one, not this place. We've been back here every year since this place opened up. We have no plans to stop either."

Dean smiled, their words lifting his spirits. "Thanks. I'm glad you're enjoying it. How about another drink?"

The couple nodded and resumed their meal, leaving Dean with a renewed sense of purpose. He wouldn't let someone like Amy undermine the hard work and dedication he and his colleagues put into making the camp a special place. With that thought, he continued serving, more determined than ever to make sure every guest felt welcomed and appreciated.

He was working the late shift, so half an hour before the dinner feast he changed into his costume. Monday night themes were a little tamer than weekend events. Still, Casino Night was always a huge hit.

The camp even printed Camp Bills that guests could win and then trade in for camp merchandise in the store in the lobby. Sort of like prizes at an arcade.

Dean adjusted his croupier costume, straightening the bowtie and making sure his vest was snug. Casino Night always drew a crowd, and he wanted to look the part. When he stepped out of the staff changing area, a hum of excitement filled the air. Guests were already gathering around the gaming tables set up in the large hall.

The camp had done an impressive job transforming the space. Glittering lights and banners adorned the room, giving it a festive atmosphere. The tables were covered in green felt, and the sound of shuffling cards and spinning roulette wheels echoed through the hall. Dean couldn't help but smile as he walked over to his station at the blackjack table.

"Good evening, folks," he greeted the guests with a warm smile. "Welcome to Casino Night. Who's ready to try their luck at blackjack?"

The group of guests gathered around his table closer, eager to play. Dean dealt the cards with practiced ease, making small talk and keeping the atmosphere lively. He flirted with the women and chatted up the men. He enjoyed these nights, seeing the guests unwind and have fun. It was a nice change from the more hectic daytime activities.

As the evening progressed, Dean noticed Andrea making her way through the crowd. She wore a simple yet elegant dress that hugged her figure perfectly, and her hair was styled in loose waves. She looked beautiful, and Dean felt a flutter of pride knowing she was his.

Andrea caught his eye and waved, making her way over to his table. "Hey there, Mr. Wallis," she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "How's the night going?"

"Pretty good," Dean replied, dealing another hand. "I didn't know you were helping out tonight."

"I got called in to help after McKenna called out sick." She glanced around.

"You should join in. Maybe you'll get lucky." He motioned to the table.

She laughed, shaking her head. "I think I'll leave the gambling to the experts. Besides, I have to help over there." She waved and he glanced over and saw Zoey waving towards Andrea. "Catch you later."

As the evening wore on, Dean really enjoyed the genuine camaraderie and joy among the guests. Everyone was having so much fun. It was nights like these that reminded him why he loved working at the camp.

Just as the night was winding down, an unexpected voice cut through the noise. "Well, if it isn't the camp's star employee." Amy's sarcastic tone drew his attention.

Dean looked up to see Amy standing at the edge of the table, her eyes glinting with mischief. She was dressed in a flashy outfit that screamed for attention, and her expression was anything but friendly.

"For someone who thinks this place is tacky, you sure do end up here a lot," Dean retorted, his tone laced with kindness to make his point.

"Hardly," she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I'm meeting some potential investors here." She looked around quickly. "This place looks like a cheap imitation of a real casino to me."

Andrea, who had been chatting with a guest nearby, turned at the sound of her sister's voice. Her smile faded slightly, but she walked over with a composed expression. "Amy, I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"I'm meeting some important investors. They're staying here for the weekend," Amy replied, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the dining hall.

Dean felt a surge of protectiveness for Andrea. He stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Andrea held up a hand, stopping him. "I'm fine," she said softly.

Amy smirked, clearly enjoying the tension she was creating. "There they are, the Trimounts," she said, her voice dripping with condescension as she waved towards a young couple who were making their way towards them.

Dean noticed the couple—elegantly dressed, with an air of importance about them—heading in their direction. He could see the gleam of calculation in Amy's eyes. This was all a show for her, a chance to belittle her sister and the camp she loved.

"Ah, the Trimounts," Amy said with exaggerated delight as the couple approached. "This is my sister, Andrea, and one of the camp's employees, Dean. They're both very…dedicated to their roles here."

Andrea forced a polite smile. "Welcome to River Camps," she said. "I hope you're enjoying your stay."

The Trimounts nodded cordially, but it was clear their interest lay more in Amy's overtures than in any genuine appreciation for the camp. Dean couldn't help but notice how Amy's tone shifted as she spoke to them—syrupy sweet yet laced with an undertone of self-worth.

"Dean, why don't you get us some drinks?" Amy suggested, her tone making it clear it wasn't really a suggestion.

Dean's jaw tightened. Andrea glanced at him with an apologetic smile and turned to go back to her table.

"I'm sure I can find someone to help," he said to Amy and then waved over one of the servers, who took the trio's drink orders while he turned back to his duties at his table.

While he worked, he could hear snippets of the conversation behind him.

"Amy, you're so lucky to have such a charming place close by for your meetings," Mrs. Trimount said. "We're only staying a couple nights here but figured we'd be a little adventurous."

Amy laughed lightly. "Oh, it's quaint, isn't it? But we make do."

Dean felt a pang of irritation at Amy's dismissive words. He knew how much Andrea loved the camp, how hard she worked to make every guest's stay enjoyable. And here was Amy, belittling it all for the sake of her own image.

The server returned with their drinks a few moments later. "Here you go. If you need anything else, just let me know."

"Thank you," Mr. Trimount said, taking a sip of his drink.

Amy barely acknowledged the server, too busy fawning over her guests. "So, as I was saying about the investment opportunities…"

Dean returned to his table duties and ignored the conversation happening behind him. He glanced up a few times and gave Andrea a reassuring nod or smile. Every time that she met his gaze, her eyes filled with worry and gratitude.

On occasion, he couldn't help but overhear Amy's continued disparagement of the camp.

"It's a nice little spot for a quick getaway," she was saying, "but nothing compared to the places I usually frequent."

Just then, a voice behind him interrupted his thoughts. "Excuse me, young man."

Dean turned to see the older couple from earlier standing nearby. The woman smiled kindly at him. "I just wanted to say how much we enjoy Casino Night. We brag to all our friends about coming down here each year."

Her husband nodded in agreement. "We've had a wonderful time here. You all do a great job."

"Thank you. That means a lot," he replied.

As the evening wore on, the contrast between the genuine appreciation of most guests and Amy's snobbery became even more apparent. But Dean knew one thing for sure: the spirit of the camp, embodied in people like Andrea and the supportive guests, would always outshine the negativity of a few.

At the end of the night, as the lights dimmed and the guests began to depart, Dean found Andrea near the entrance, seeing off the Trimounts with a polite smile. She turned to him, weariness obvious in her eyes. Amy was nowhere to be found.

"Walk you to your car?" he asked gently.

She nodded. "Absolutely."

As they walked back to the staff area together, hand in hand, Dean wondered how he could convince her to let him come back to her place for the night. He was as tired as she looked, but the hope of spending a night with her wrapped in his arms was very appealing.

Was he moving too fast?

All day long he could only think about being with her again. About spending another night holding her after making love to her for as long as he could hold out.

When they reached the parking lot, he was about to ask her if he could follow her home, when they heard screaming. They both turned and saw Amy pacing beside her Porsche, a phone to her ear as she screamed.

"I don't give a fuck. You told me you'd be here. You were supposed to be here tonight. The Trimounts asked for you specifically. I had to make some lame excuse why you couldn't be here." She turned and paced again as he and Andrea stood still, both of them hoping that Amy wouldn't see them in the shadows. "Who was that?" Amy asked after a moment of silence. "This is bullshit, Brad. You swore to me you were done running around. We went to counseling." He glanced down at Andrea, who shook her head slightly. "No, don't bother. I'll be at my sister's," Amy said, and then hung up. He felt Andrea tense beside him.

"Well, shit," Andrea said softly as Amy climbed into her car and sped out of the driveway.

"I guess this means I won't be coming over tonight," he said, turning Andrea and pulling her into his arms. "Want to come stay at my place?"

He heard her chuckle. "Thanks, but I think I'd better go make sure she doesn't break all my grandmother's good chinaware." She reached up on her toes and kissed him. "See you tomorrow."

He watched her go and realized that no matter how perfect Amy's life seemed on the surface, decay could lurk deep within.