Augie disagreed. Even if she hadn’t been on the LinkedIn app—and had no idea if he’d messaged—he’d clearly chosen sides.
Remember: I’m against “the rules.”
Leah had sent back an eye-rolling emoji.He definitely wants to talk to you.
Augie was just glad she was successfully ignoring him. She’d even made progress on her checklists. With her new resolve, she had flagged five not-horrible jobs, and for the first time, she was genuinely excited about one of them: a nonprofit in DC that helped start-up companies with a focus on immigrant businesses. This aligned well with her previous work with Hyla. She’d love the chance to help people through advertising, rather than the New Jersey Lottery. Regardless, when she got to the part where she had to list references, she felt stuck. She couldn’t include anyone from New York—and wouldn’t it be strange not to? But she was so exasperated by everything, before she could stop herself, she wrote down Aida’s name and contact info and hit send.
24
They were going to wear white. Bill, Chat, Cooper, Max, and herself. It would be a statement. It would be a vision. Danika needed to feel beautiful, to show off her family in flawless designer white. To appear as if everything was perfect. At least for tonight.
She hoped to fool herself.
Danika hadn’t said anything to Bill about their finances, or the affair. She couldn’t bring herself to face it yet. Still, he seemed to feel some shift in her.
“Are you okay?” he asked early that afternoon. Danika had been standing in her closet, picking out her jewelry for the evening and drinking from the bottle of wine she’d hidden behind her dresses—her emergency wine, she’d told herself. Though every day now felt like an emergency. As Bill entered, she pushed the bottle farther to the back.
“Areyouokay?” She studied his workout clothes, his nonchalance. He’d been behaving as normal—not as if he was sending their whole lives into turmoil.
He nodded, perplexed.
Danika turned away. It was hard to look at him and not imagine him sleeping with someone else.
“Danika.” He stepped closer. She was wearing her bathrobe, andhe ran his hands over the white silk of her shoulders. “Thank you for whatever you said to Josh. He’s been much more amiable lately. He didn’t fight us on the last big vote, and he said you two had a good conversation about the model home. I appreciate it.”
Danika tensed beneath Bill’s hands.
“He seems to have turned a leaf, as they say.” Bill chuckled. “We’re all really excited about the model home, too. Everyone’s so impressed. I knew what I was doing, hiring you.”
Danika looked at him. She knew now that Joshua Mike had been the one to ask for her to be involved. That lie held a certain ache.
She walked toward the bathroom.
As Danika stood at the sink and stared into the mirror, she suddenly thought of her mother—suddenly saw her face in her own. Once again, she thought back to what she’d said that day Danika implied she should leave her father: “And then what? Just how do you suppose I start over? Just how do you supposed I get a new life?”
Danika felt sick with understanding.
She wanted to get to the end of summer unscathed, to finish the model home and soak in time with Chat before everything came tumbling down. Chat had been more attentive than ever, too—constantly asking how he could help, if she needed anything—and while things were different between them, it was still nice to be pampered. Even if his behavior was fueled by guilt, finally, she had him to herself.
Part of her wished she could open up to Chat and tell him everything about Bill, but they were no longer confidants. Like Trey, he had let her down.
But, now, the luau. This was one evening she could still control. One night where she could still feel like herself. Or at least the version of herself she had worked so hard to conceive. Because who knew who she’d be next. Her power was slipping away like the last light of day.
25
Every year, the staff wore colorful leis for the event, and as Augie slipped a ring of fake orange flowers around her neck, she was glad for the disguise, however small. Her heart beat so hard, she swore she could see the flowers fluttering against her shirt.
The setup had taken hours: They’d strung yards of string lights across the decks and twisted bamboo tiki torches into the ground. They’d also blown up the cartoonish plastic jungle animals—rhinos and gorillas and giraffes. Luau, jungle, Aida said not to ask questions.
Augie liked seeing the decorations come together. The whole space was transformed. The patio around the pool filled with tables with hot pink floral centerpieces, the grassy area beyond the pool housed all the elaborate food stations, and the wide stairs that led up to the Club’s lower-level entrance had fake vines wrapped around the railings. Even the smaller, upper patio in front of the double doors had cocktail tables and extra speakers where people could look down on the party below. It became even more dazzling at night when the pool lights turned the water to an aqua lava lamp and the lights blinked brighter against the sky. Augie couldn’t think about how far they were from sunset now. It was only five p.m. It was going to be a long night.
As they made their way to the break room for family meal, she tried to stay upbeat. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, excited by the challenge of the night, the beginning-of-the-end of summer. She didn’t want to be a downer. She was happy to see Zami, too. As he served summer orecchiette and told jokes about his beach bod, Augie laughed at all the right moments.
She didn’t know what she would say to Chat. It would be too hard to explain her complicated feelings. Over the past week, she’d worked hard to explain them to herself. How could she admit that mostly, she was jealous of Mrs. Crawley? That Chat siding with Mrs. Crawley made her feel as though Chat had chosen everything Mrs. Crawley stood for: status, wealth, superficiality. It made Augie feel small and inferior, cementing her insecurities, how the Club members had always made her feel second rate.
Augie readied herself as they finished eating and Aida gave a toast saying how proud she was of how hard they’d worked that summer, how quickly the new staff had stepped up. It felt like an ending, but Augie wasn’t sure of what exactly. She grew more anxious as they took their places outside.
No Club member wanted to arrive first to an event, so it wasn’t until the clock hit six fifteen that people began swelling up the patio steps. As if on cue, the sky paled, the DJ switched to a cover of “Over the Rainbow,” and the thick smell of charcoal and hickory began wafting through the air.
