“Fucking psycho!” Blair yelled after me.
“Yeah! Crazy bitch! You coulda killed us!” Tommy screamed.
Laughing, I gave them the finger.
26
Charleigh
If Charleigh grits her teeth any harder, they’ll grind to dust.
She shifts in her seat, tries to settle, when all she wants do is crawl out of her skin.
They’re in the car, heading home from the fish fry.
Alexander’s behind the wheel, as usual. Not only because he’salwaysat the helm, but because Charleigh’s good and hammered
Again.
She’s pissed, of course, that fucking Monica brought the Swifts totheirprivate club, parading them around like some prized jewels. Like she obtained the latest, most sought-after designer handbag and had to flaunt it.
He’s making Chip a desk for the home office. Costs five grand!
Ugh! Who talks like that? Like, who gives a shit?
And the way she had her paws on Ethan. So disgusting! Charleigh bets she wants toreallyhave her paws all over him,because Chip is just a big doofus, not the smoldering sex object that her Alexander is. That Ethan is.
But she’s equally pissed at Alexander.
She gets that he was raised right, with manners, unlike her. That he’s effusive and that it’s usually all just an act, a way to keep things nice and oiled and smooth. Heknowshow in a twist she is about the Swifts. And forget about her—he knows how very upsetting all this has been toNellie.
I mean, should she have uttered the wordskankabout Jane, barely under her breath, in front of Jane’s parents? Hell no. But Charleigh’s proud of her daughter for sticking up for herself. Blair was being a snot-nosed bitch, as usual, and Charleigh saw the way Jane was glaring at Nellie. Like Nellie’s beneath her.
Charleigh gets why Nellie hates Jane. She’sjustlike the mother: audacious when she shouldn’t be. But the difference is Jane’s actually a looker, dammit, unlike the mother, so she does kind of have a right to the airs she’s putting on. And Nellie can’t compete with that. With Jane’s poise, her gemstone-green eyes, her wholevibe.
She let Nellie leave the table, ride home with Dustin. Last time she saw her, she was driving away on his Jet Ski. Dustin is like Chip. Oafish, not exactly handsome. But rich. And the Reeves are a tolerable enough family. Nearly as rich as the Andersens are, but Sherry Reeves doesn’t flaunt it, doesn’t even hang out with the rest of the ladies very much. Like Alexander’s family, she comes fromoldmoney, which Charleigh always pictures to be like ancient gold coins stashed away in some cavea thousand years ago, passed greedily down from one generation to the next.
Sherry has class, and she would rather lounge about in her crisp mansion by herself all day, gaze at the fine art on her walls, flit off to the Met in New York.
So, yeah, truth is, Charleigh sort of pushed Nellie and Dustin together. Arranged a few “convenient” run-ins with the Reeves, hoping those two would attach, pair off: buying season tickets to the local theater, inviting the Reeves to join them for a night out, having them over for burgers, that sort of thing.
This was last year, when Nellie was a junior, because Charleigh couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter entering senior year with no one to take her to homecoming, no one to go to prom with. And let’s face it, no one was going to ask her without Charleigh intervening.
Sherry was down with all of it, also looking for a partner for her bratty, spoiled rich boy who is all thumbs.
Charleigh doesn’t intend for Nellie to stay attached to him forever, just until college, when her prospects open up and she can land someone better. More suitable husband material. But she’d never had a boyfriend, the poor thing, and needed a starter relationship.
As far as Charleigh can tell, she hasn’t had sex with him. She’s not 100 percent sure on this, but one night recently, she eavesdropped outside Nellie’s door. Dustin was trying for it, and she heard her daughter say, “Ewww, no. Get off me, Dustin. You know I’m not doingthat.”
She skulked away, tiptoed back down the hall, thinking,I wouldn’t give it up for him either, Nellie. Good girl.
Now she squirms in the passenger seat again, lets out a ragged sigh.
Alexander has just finished snapping at her.
She wasn’t even talking tohim, she was twisted around, addressing Jackson.
“Can you believe the nerve of Monica? And don’t get me started on that weird-ass family—”
