“Believe me, it was not my choice.”
“Next order of business,” Belle said. “There has been a motion put forward to—” She checked her notes and sighed. “Have shirtless male servers. Vera,” Belle stated, “there are children who use the amenities. We can’t have shirtless servers.”
“Just at the pool,” Vera begged.
“No. Motion denied.”
Greg stood up. “Ms. Vera, if you vote for me as HOA president, I’ll schedule adult hours at the pool, and you’ll have your shirtless servers.”
Vera pumped her fist while the other drunk seniors applauded. “You have my vote!”
48
Tess
My entire weekend had been ruined by my stepsister’s message. I spent it stress eating, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t even have a replay of my not-date hookup with Beck because I was so furious.
Why now? Why was she contacting me now?
“You need to clap back,” Maeve instructed. “You should have done it right when she texted you. You know, tell her that you actually already came around Beck’s cock so, oops, looks like he’s taken.”
“That probably would have just egged her on. I’m hoping she’ll just go away.” I took a big sip of my coffee. Because it was an emergency, I had opted for an extra-large pistachio vanilla latte with whipped cream and honeycomb sprinkles.
“This is a good thing,” Maeve said. “For once in your life, your stepsister is jealous of you, not the other way around! Enjoy it! It’s karma!”
“It feels like a big bucket of ice water is about to fall on me.”
“You need to show off Beck.”
“It’s fake.”
“You said you two had sex.”
“I think that’s because he didn’t have any other options, and I have poor decision-making skills,” I said into my coffee.
I was stressed. I needed pasta. I had brought some leftovers for lunch. It was ten in the morning, but what better to eat for second breakfast than cheesy, creamy gnocchi and spring peas?
“Are you going to share some of that pasta?” Maeve hinted, following me into the break-room kitchen.
“I just don’t know if there’s enough,” I said.
“Girl, you sent me a picture of it this morning when you packed your lunch, and it was enough pasta for multiple full-grown men.”
“I’m having a rough week.”
“It’s Monday.”
“Like I said… a rough week.”
And it was about to get even rougher. Because even though I had hidden my lunch way in the back of the fridge and it was only ten in the morning, my food was gone.
“Mother f—” I clenched my fists. I needed that pasta. “How am I going to get through the day?”
“You always were a food addict.”
For fucking—
“Shannyn.” I glared at my stepsister. “Are you stalking me?”
