“Hey, so question—do you always twitch and fidget like a mouse on crack when you get your makeup done or are you a little nervous about tonight?”
Lennox stops dabbing me with a large, round makeup brush that’s so soft it tickles. I’m being a terrible client right now and making her job difficult. She’s here to help me get ready for my photo shoot as a courtesy, and I’m distracted as hell. Guilty-faced, I look up from my phone and hold it out to her.
“I’ve been knee-deep in research for three days, and I just have a weird hunch about something. My obsessiveness is taking over, which is why I’m antsy. But it could possibly be the makeup…I’ve never gotten it done before—professionally. There were some sleepover mishaps in my younger years.”
“Let’s take a break before we put on your lashes and do your hair,” Lennox says. “How about a drink? Do you have anything good in the fridge?”
“Actually, yes. I picked up some strawberry margarita mix with you in mind, my friend. Come on,” I say, hopping up from the chair we pulled into the master bathroom. “Dex’s fridge makes the best crushed ice. Perfect for margs.”
Lennox and I have been spending more time together. More accurately, we’ve been attached at the hip ever since our girls’ day out shopping. She usually moseys over whenever she’s at Finn’s place, which is constantly. When I’m not alone with Finn or working, I’m letting Lennox teach me how to be a girl. She shows me makeup styles and is always texting me cute outfit ideas. I’m officially her life-sized Barbie doll.
The new thing I’ve learned this summer is that skinny girls have insecurities about their bodies too. Lennox has clothes she wishes she could wear, but she doesn’t have the chest or hips to fill them out. Instead, when she’s out thrifting or discount clothes shopping, she’ll pick out items she loves and bring them to me, all the while telling me how envious she is of my body.
I’ve known people to be considerate or polite about my plentiful curves, but never have I had people who celebrated my body…envied it, even. It’s bizarre, and if I’m telling the truth, it feels really nice to be appreciated for who I am, and not the beauty I could potentially be if I just lost twenty or so pounds—words I heard from my mother and Palmer my entire life. Words I’m sure Mason would’ve liked to say, but sure as hell wasn’t daring enough.
Lennox passes me at the bottom of the stairs when something catches my eye and I bank right instead of heading toward the kitchen. I stare into Cherry’s tank and notice a thick black stripe across her side. She even looks a little more translucent. What the fuck?
“Lennox,” I call out, “you scuba dive, right? Is fish cancer…a thing?”
“I think so,” she replies absentmindedly, rummaging through Dex’s fridge for the loot. “I know sharks and whales can get cancerous tumors.”
“The door,” I instruct her. “I put the marg mix in the door compartment. But if a fish had cancer, what would you do…surely, you can’t operate on a fish? Can you? Or would you just try treatment? Are there fish oncologists?” I watch Cherry swim back and forth, not even close to her usual pace. It’s a leisurely stroll and far from her normally spazzy behavior. I don’t understand. The fish guy was just here yesterday. I told him I was concerned and he double-checked the pH levels, and the temperature of the water. He even ran a test for minerals and nutrients. The tank is flawless. In his own words, it’s the fish version of a luxury resort with an open bar.
“Did you seriously just say fish oncologist?” Lennox asks. When I look toward the kitchen, she’s staring at me with a befuddled expression.
“I’m a little attached to this Cherry Barb. She’s my little buddy. Cherry has been keeping me company all summer.” I stroke the glass, careful not to tap, still worried from the inside of the tank it sounds like an earthquake. “I’m going to ask Dex if he’d let me keep her. But I don’t know how to take care of her if she’s really sick.”
Lennox’s jaw drops. “You know those probably cost about eight dollars, right? About the cost of a venti Starbucks drink… Just saying…”
I drop my jaw and feign horror, but make another mental note to ask the aquarium guy next week what to make of all this. A thick black stripe down the side of her body has to be an indication of something awry. If Cherry is getting sick, the other fish could be getting sick too. There has to be something I’m missing. When did that stripe even develop? I didn’t notice it until now.
Albeit for the past few days, I’ve been working manically, reviewing investor relations reports for Legacy’s major competitors for the past decade. I’ve been studying what has been working for their competitors and what hasn’t to get as close as possible to a brand strategy guaranteed to put them at the top of their market. No easy feat.
By the time I trudge into the kitchen, now doubly distracted, Lennox has filled two glasses with the bright pink cocktail. “Cheers.” We clink our glasses together and take a small sip before she asks me, “What’s your hunch?”
“Huh?” I crunch on a small piece of ice that slipped through my lips, completely forgetting about my sensitive tooth. I smack my palm against my cheek. “Ow, shit. Sorry, what?”
“Earlier in the bathroom, you said you had a weird hunch. Is everything okay with your project?”
I squint one eye at her. “You sure you want to know? I’ve been told I can drone on about work.”
I’m actually dying to talk to Mason about what I found, but right now I don’t feel like I can trust him. Four years in business together…and it’s the first time I feel like we’re working for different end goals. It’s unnerving and I hate it.
“Drone away. I’m really interested in your job. The way Finn’s studio has been going, I may need an extra job. Can I work for you?”
“Seriously?” I scrunch my face at her in surprise.
“Yeah, I mean, I’m decent with graphic design, and there isn’t anything I can’t learn. Everything I know about photography, Finn taught me…so…” She shrugs. “I’m just really impressed by you. I’ve always known I wanted to go the entrepreneur path. I just wasn’t sure what to do or how to do it.”
Hm, interesting. “If you’re serious, Lennox, I’ll help you. I’m in between things right now, but as soon as I figure out what’s going to happen with Legacy Resorts…one way or the other, I will help you.”
She shoots me a small smile. “Thank you. Anyway, sorry to digress. Please continue…”
“I dug into Legacy Resorts’ financials, and they are doing fine. Are they disgustingly profitable? No. But the business is far from failing, so why oh why would the board of directors be pushing to sell? What exactly is the problem that needs to be addressed?”
“And your hunch?” Lennox asks, raising her brows to the point they disappear behind her straight-cut, long bangs. She’s died her hair freshly purple again. It’s such a good look on her. I love the vibrancy. Maybe I should consider a little color in my mousy brown locks.
“That there’s something unsavory going on. It seems like a decision in the best interest of a specific person versus the company as a whole. Call me Magnum PI, but I’ve been looking up the entire board, individually. I need to get to the bottom of why these very well-off, business-savvy board members would want to let go of thousands of employees, screw over their shareholders, and basically bend over backward to their direct competition. It makes no sense unless the company is secretly near bankrupt. But I already turned over that stone and found nothing.”
“If you need help,” Lennox says with a sly smile, “social media stalking is kind of my specialty.”
I snort. “I wish it were that easy. But the stuffy middle-aged board members don’t seem to be active on socials. I’ve been digging through public earning reports…it’s quite riveting,” I say, emphasizing the sarcasm in my tone. “I’m actually grateful it’s Friday. I need a break and am due for some fun.”
My reward for tireless, sleepless, thankless days of work for a contract or job offer I haven’t even earned yet? Finn. Motherfucking Finn Harvey and his dirty words and rock-hard body…all night. All I have to do is get through this stupid photo shoot.
“Ah, speaking of fun…” Lennox takes another sip from her drink, enjoying the attention as I stare at her like a fish on a bait line.
“What? What’s fun?”
“You know Ruby’s?”
“The strip—I mean gentleman’s club?”
Lennox nods. “The bar manager, Cass, is a friend of mine. She hosts her birthday there every year. They shut down the entire club for a night and throw a costume party. It’s huge. All the dancers, bouncers, close friends, and even a few celebrities usually make an appearance. It’s not just fun…it’s Vegas fun. It’s the Friday after next. You should come.”
She’s wearing that pleading look Palmer wears when she wants me to change out of my sweatpants and go clubbing with her. But a birthday bash at a Vegas gentleman’s club seems a little out of my league. “If by costumes you mean pasties and G-strings, I’m going to have to throw you a ‘no’ on that one.”
“Oh, come on.”
I quirk one brow. “So I’m right about the costumes?”
“Mainly,” she mutters. “But you don’t have to get that intense. And plus, Finn’s going. I’m sure he’d love to show you off.”
Oh. Finn’s going? “He didn’t mention it.” I’ll admit that kind of hurts. It’s yet another reminder that Finn and I only make sense in closed quarters. I wouldn’t fit in with his normal friends. “I’m sure he would’ve invited me if he wanted me there. I don’t want to rain on your guys’ parade.”
“First of all, I want you there, so you’re invited. Second of all, Cass just sent out the invites two days ago. He hasn’t had a chance to ask you to go. You’ve been pretty much unreachable holed up in here.” She swivels her finger in the air, gesturing to my prison—aka Dex’s four-thousand-square-foot luxury home. “Finn even told me not to bother you while you were working.”
“Doesn’t your boyfriend want to go?”
She shakes her head. “Not his thing.”
“I don’t have a costume.”
“I’ll find you one or make you one.”
I cringe at her response.
“We’ll keep it classy. Sexy, so you fit in, but we’ll cover all your bits.”
I roll my eyes. “By bits, I hope you mean all my wiggly parts.” I pat my stomach, which admittedly is a little flatter than normal. I don’t think I’ve eaten much over the past few days as I frantically dove down the Legacy Resorts wormhole.
Lennox lets out a frustrated grumble. “I see what Finn is talking about now,” she mumbles under her breath but doesn’t elaborate. “Okay, story for you—there’s a dancer at Ruby’s named Brielle. She’s the most athletic, flexible, sexy piece of ass you’ve ever seen. She’s by far the most requested and highest-paid dancer there. Nobody works a pole or a lap like Brielle.”
“That’s lovely,” I deadpan.
“My point is that she’s nearly twice your size. And she’s fucking beautiful. I think you see the world as very black and white. I don’t know what you think you know about Las Vegas and beauty standards, but I’m willing to bet you’re making wrong assumptions.” She presses her lips together like she’s nervous to continue. “And it’s the same with Finn. He’s not patronizing you when he says he likes you, Avery. He genuinely thinks you are one of the most intriguing and stunning women he’s ever met. The more you say that’s not true, the more you’re calling his opinion worthless.”
I knew Lennox was sassy, but I had no clue she was so deep. “Wow, just call me out, why don’t you?”
“I’m trying to help you get out of your own way.”
“Is all this flattery just because you want a job?”
She croaks in laughter. “No. You and Finn are good together. He’s relaxed and smiley all the time. He finally stood up to his dad. You don’t understand the effect you have on him. He’s been my best friend since we were in diapers. We were raised together and I have never seen him this happy. And you seem…” She holds her palm to the ceiling and points at my chest.
“Happy too,” I finish for her.
“Good. So be happy. It’s right in front of you. Stop thinking you don’t deserve it.” Lennox winks at me.
“Thank you, Lennox. You are a really good friend.”
“Okay, come on, let’s go finish your makeup and start your hair. And I can’t wait to show you the wardrobe Finn picked out for you.” She laughs to herself as she points to the black shopping bag on the living room coffee table that she brought over with her. It’s tiny. I have a sneaking suspicion that the lingerie he picked out for me is wireless. Dammit. Men just don’t understand. Wire support under the girls is far more flattering.
“Hey, so…this costume party. We can pick anything we want to be? There are no specifications?”
“Yeah, anything.”
“And if I have an idea, you can help me?”
She beams at me. “Hell yeah. What do you have in mind?”
I cover my eyes, embarrassed. I don’t know why. It’s not like Lennox was on that burning ship in my dreams. She has no clue what Pirate Finn did to me on the deck before he saved my life and threw me back into the sea.
“I want to be a mermaid.”
