This is WAR (17 page)

“Is this the kind of subject Dr. Harvey is having you study? If so, I think it is highly inappropriate.” Her mother’s delicate features twisted into a scowl.

“No, Mom, it’s not that. I’m just … curious.”

Her mother’s eyes flashed to her father. They must have come to some unspoken agreement that he should take it from there.

“Well, it’s certainly possible for men to develop breasts, but it takes a lot of time and a lot of drugs with a variety of side effects.”

“Like what?”

“Loss of sexual arousal is common.”

Sloane’s parents were the type who took pride in always answering their daughter honestly. Too bad they were so good at lying to themselves.

“Like how long?”

“Months, sometimes years. Why do you ask, Sloaney? Is everything okay? This isn’t like you.” Her father’s voice was heavy with concern. Sloane was struck how the very act of
asking a question sent her parents completely off balance. She was so passive, so good at pretending to be the perfect Stepford Asian daughter that they had no idea how to react when she was her real self. And to add insult to injury or as Sloane said, injury to insult, the War couldn’t afford years or even months. The disappointment must have shown on her face.

“Honey, if you are confused about your sexuality, you can talk to us.” Her mother looked so earnest, Sloane couldn’t bear to look at her. She was trying so hard to do the right thing. And failing. Miserably.

“It’s natural for a girl of your age to want to look a certain way, but you are so proportional, so beautiful the way you are. Did Lina put this idea into your head?” As usual her father was trying to deflect blame, to do whatever it took to keep his perfect daughter perfect. Even if she only existed in his eyes.

Sloane thought about telling them the truth. Her parents hadn’t been at the Club when Willa was killed and had only rushed to the beach after the fact. They were so busy with work and so focused on Sloane that they were completely oblivious to the rumors that swirled around about the Gregorys. Maybe if she told them the truth, they’d help her do something to fix this mess.

“Oh honey, we’re so proud of you and your choices. You’re smart and beautiful and you’re going to ace the SATs this fall. I just know it.”

“We’re always here for you, Sloane. Just keep making us proud. Okay, honey?” Her dad tugged on her ponytail fondly and smiled broadly at her mother.

So. That conversation was over before it even started. Probably all for the best.

Even though it hurt her cheeks to do it, Sloane smiled back.

Chapter 19

Sloane gazed out the attic window at what looked like a monsoon. Rain pounded onto the rooftop, each drop exploding like a mini bomb. Valets scurried around in dripping raincoats emblazoned with Hawthorne Lake’s monogram. Members ducked under the portico, dry and comfortable as they waited for their needs to be met. In the attic, her friends’ voices droned, blending in with the steady, violent patter. As much as she knew she should be listening, a loyal soldier in the War hanging on every word, she couldn’t bring herself to tune in.

Instead, she squinted toward the beach, the water grey and ominous. If Willa were alive, she might have been down there alone, letting the rain pelt her back as she bent to pick up the smooth pieces of glass the lake spit out. She used to say they were easiest to find in the rain, the drops washing away sand that normally hid the tiny treasures. She’d always give the prettiest piece to Sloane. The smooth glass nestled into the palm of Sloane’s hand would feel warm and smooth. That feeling
would snake its way up through her arm all through her body. Like magic. That’s what it was like being friends with Willa. Magic. But there was no one on the beach now. And with no magic glass to warm her palm, a sickening emptiness wormed its way into her heart instead.

“You heard Sloane,” Madge said. “Her parents said it would take months. We don’t have months. We barely have weeks. Summer’s almost over.”

Sloane perked up when she heard her name. She’d already discussed the boob failure ad nauseum. It wasn’t going to work, just like everything else. She turned from the window.

“I like the idea of spiking their drinks,” Rose said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “I know so many servers who’d want in. What if we used laxatives instead of hormones?”

Lina sat up straighter, raising her eyebrows. “The golf tournament is at the beginning of the month. We can have all the bathrooms locked. They’ll shit their pants. Literally.”

The girls thought on this for a moment. Sloane pictured Trip running around with his hand cupping his butt. Man boobs and shitting your pants—it was all the same, wasn’t it? Enough to embarrass, but not enough to destroy. She was grateful that Madge shook her head.

“We have almost thirty-five thousand dollars left, and all we can come up with is a colon cleanse? We’re better than this.” Madge began pacing the small attic.

Sloane turned back to the window, watching the drops slide down the glass like worms.

“You could steal Viagra from the hospital, Sloaney,” Lina piped up. “Rose, you arrange for it to be slipped into drinks at the Mother-Son banquet and the boys have to walk around with unsightly lumps in their pants like sex offenders. It’ll be epic. Especially around a bunch of moms.”

More of the same
, Sloane thought. She imagined the boys bantering about sexy cougar-moms and could practically hear MILF jokes and the laughter that followed. They’d twist it around to their advantage, as usual. They should have learned from the fundraiser that the Gregorys were master manipulators. But she didn’t know how to voice any of it.

As if on cue her gaze was drawn to a shock of red hair under the portico. Trip Gregory stood there, stretching to look at the sky, probably considering making a dash for it. He spoke with the valet for a moment, his face warm and inviting, the typical grin stretched along his jaw line. But when the valet ducked back inside, Trip’s eyes narrowed into slits and a grimace replaced his usual smile. A crystal glass from the bar was gripped between his fingers and his gaze zeroed in on the tiny window of the attic.

Oh my God
.

He saw her. She was sure of it. And before she could duck out of sight, he cocked his head and released his fingers from the tumbler. The glass fell as though in slow motion, exploding around his feet and mirroring the jagged smile that flashed over his face. Sloane threw herself on the attic floor. For some reason, she was reminded of spinning with her friends when she was a little girl, tiny hands clasped together singing,
“Ashes, ashes we all fall … DOWN!”
They’d giggle hysterically as they fell. This time no one was laughing.

“Sloane, what the hell? Are you okay?” Lina tried to help her up, but Sloane yanked her down. “Ouch! Let go of my arm. What’s your problem?” She shook Sloane off of her and struggled to her feet.

“Trip! He saw me. He dropped a glass and it broke and he smiled. You guys, I think he knows.” Sloane rose on her knees and peered out the window, careful to remain partially
hidden. She kept her eyes trained on the ground outside the Club, certain if she tried hard enough she’d be able to make out the shards of glass. The valet pulled up in Trip’s black BMW, and Sloane watched as he walked toward the car. His affable smile was back in place. Before he opened the door, he stood in the rain and lifted his arm in a mocking salute directed at Sloane. Funny, even in her terror, all she could think was,
He doesn’t even care about soaking that expensive watch. He doesn’t care about anything …

And that’s when it hit her.

It didn’t happen often and she could never be sure when it was coming, but she was sometimes struck out of the blue with an idea. The last one had been “boobs,” of course. This one was much better.

“Watches,” Sloane blurted as she turned from the window to the group.

Back in the day, when Great Grandpa Gregory and his brother began making real money, they’d bought a pair of valuable watches, gifts to each other for hard work and sacrifice. Now James and Trip had inherited them. Instead of representing hard work and sacrifice, they stood for wealth and the life of leisure that came with other people working hard for you. There had to be a way to use the watches against them. They were family heirlooms. They could drive a wedge between Grandpa and the twins, couldn’t they?

The girls frowned. Madge opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, footsteps pounded up the stairwell. All of the girls jumped out of their seats and rushed together to defend themselves against whoever had come to destroy everything. Sloane’s heart exploded in her chest. It was Trip. It had to be.

But when the door flew open, she saw two housekeepers.
Sloane blinked at them. Had Trip sent them? They shut the door and faced the girls in the standard navy blue housekeeping uniforms, an
H
and
L
stitched at their breast. They looked like twins, with their dull, almost greyish-blonde hair secured at the nape of their necks with bobby pins. They couldn’t have been much older than the girls. Rose rushed forward.

“Kira, Nadia, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t want to be late.” The older one spoke in a slight Russian accent. “We want to join. For Pavla.”

Madge glared at Rose.

“I didn’t tell anyone, I swear.” Rose raised her hands, her dark eyes large and insistent.

“No one invited us. The Gregory boys. We heard them talking. They know you are behind the pictures. Lina, she took the picture of Trip, yes?”

Lina nodded, her lips pursed.

“You must be careful. We will help you.” The younger one spoke this time, her eyes focused steadily on the floor, hands wringing.

“How could you have heard all of this?” Madge demanded. “You mean to tell me that Trip and James were just openly discussing this at the Club?”

“They talk in the library. We were cleaning.” The older one sounded defensive, and Rose must have picked up on her tone.

“They’re maids. Of course they speak freely around them. They probably don’t even realize they speak English.” Rose sounded angry, frustrated. For the first time it occurred to Sloane that Rose had probably been ignored at one time or another as well.

“Who’s Pavla?” Lina asked.

“Our sister. The Captain accused Pavla of stealing his
wife’s necklace during a massage but she would never steal. The Captain lied because she refused to …” The girl let her voice trail off, embarrassed and ashamed of what the Captain had asked of her sister.

“She was fired. And now she’s back in Russia.” The other sister finished.

It was no drowning in Hawthorne Lake, but it was something bad, evil, and twisted. Sloane wondered how many other people at the Club had their own Willas.

“Let them in,” Sloane heard herself say.

Rose nodded. “They could help with the inside stuff. They have access. They can keep track of what the boys are planning.”

The younger one finally lifted her head and offered a sad, tentative smile.

Madge and Lina looked at each other, and Lina lifted her bony shoulders. “We need them,” she said, and then caught herself, “I mean, we need you. But this is War, so get ready for the long haul.” She lowered herself back into the couch, flustered.

“There might be no war to fight if we can’t think of a new idea,” Madge snapped. She popped her last mint in her mouth. Bad sign. She had to be nearing the end of her reserves, and they’d gotten practically nowhere. Rain continued to pound on the roof. The young maids hesitated at the door, but finally came forward and sat on the floor, tucking their legs beneath them.

Sloane retreated into her head once again. Watches. Pavla. Stolen necklace. Antiques. Valuable jewelry. They could make fun of the watches. They could destroy the watches. They could hide the watches. They could steal the watches. She sat up straighter. They
could
steal the watches.

“We steal the watches!” Sloane practically shouted the words.

All eyes flicked to her. She got that panicky feeling that accompanied the pressure of the spotlight. Like she was “reading”
Corduroy
all over again. Her pulse raced as she considered, shaking her head, shutting up. Then she remembered the casual way Trip had smashed the glass in front of the Club. How a Gregory didn’t care who he hurt or what he broke; he just liked the sound of something shattering. And that’s when she realized: it didn’t matter if they lost. The War
had
to be fought. Maybe they didn’t stand a chance against the Gregorys. But Sloane was going to go down fighting, like Willa.

Besides, no one knew she was dumb here. Not like Willa knew. They might have suspected it, but it wasn’t like at school. The girls here didn’t know about how she cheated her way to her As, they didn’t whisper how two of the most intelligent doctors in the country had raised such a complete idiot. It might not be the answer to the War, but at least it was a start.

“Get it?” Sloane asked, knowing this could go only one of two ways.

“You. Are. A. Genius.” Four words from Madge. Four simple words and Sloane’s heart soared. “Great Grandpa Gregory and their great uncle passed down those watches. They’re antiques. Priceless. Oh my God, Sloane. That’s it!”