Page 49 of Summers at the Saint
“Absolutely not acceptable,” he snapped. “Where is your aunt? I need to speak to her immediately.”
“Mrs. Eddings isn’t available right now,” Parrish told him. “But I’ll let her know about your concerns.”
By ten, the lobby had cleared and the rain had stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
“Afterparty,” one of the valet guys, named Juan, whispered to KJ. “Tell the others. At the Shack.”
“Where’s the Shack?” KJ asked.
“Ask Garrett, and tell him to grab a golf cart to help carry the booze.”
“Afterparty,” Angela, one of the room service servers, whispered as she passed Olivia, who was walking up the beach with an armload of foil-wrapped trays of leftovers. “And bring that food, okay?”
“Where?” Livvy asked.
“The Shack,” Angela said, hurrying away before Livvy could ask for more details.
She found Parrish as she was heading for the lobby door. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Home,” Parrish said wearily. “But all the golf carts are out, so I guess I’ll have to walk back to the dorm.”
“That’s because everybody’s taking them to the afterparty. KJ just passed me on the way there with a cooler full of punch, but he promised to come back for us.”
“Not me,” Parrish said. “I’m toast.”
“Oh, come on,” Livvy urged. “Loosen up and live, right?”
KJ pulled the cart alongside them. The back was loaded with coolers and stacks of foil-wrapped food trays. “Get in, losers,” he called cheerily. “Partayyyyyy!”
Parrish laughed despite herself and hopped onto the back seat. Livvy pulled out her phone, leaned in, extended her arm, and shot a selfie of the two of them, grinning in their matching flowered dresses and leis.
The golf cart bumped and rocked as it left the paved road and swerved onto a mud-soaked path through a dense thicket of palmettos and kudzu-draped pines.
“Do you know about this place, Parrish?” Livvy asked.
“It used to be the landscaping shed. When I was a little girl, my friends and I used it as a clubhouse, until Granddaddy found outwe’d made a bonfire to cook hot dogs, and in the process, nearly burned the place down. He padlocked it, but a few years later, when I was in high school, we used a hacksaw to open it back up. We used to hang out here and drink and smoke weed and… you know.”
“Ohhh,” Livvy said.
“The good old days,” KJ put in. He slowed the cart and pointed to a clearing ahead, where a motley crew of the Saint’s staffers stood around a small fire, clutching beers and Solo cups. People were swaying to loud rap music and a pungent haze of smoke drifted their way. “Smells like teen spirit!”
CHAPTER 27
Parrish stood at the edge of the crowd, already feeling like an outsider. She recognized most of the partygoers as her coworkers, and the members of the steel drum band. KJ took her by the hand, dragged her closer to the fire, and handed her a Solo cup of the punch. She downed it quickly, hoping it would numb her sense of awkwardness, and it went down so smoothly, she drank a second cup, finally feeling a comforting buzz.
She spotted Garrett on the other side of the crowd. He was smoking a joint, and had his arm around the waist of the petite singer from the band. Their eyes met, and he whispered something in the girl’s ear. She pouted for a moment, then kissed him passionately on the lips.
He moved lazily toward her, and Parrish thought briefly of commandeering a golf cart to make an escape. Even though they lived under the same roof, they hadn’t exchanged a single word since that night at Pour Willy’s. He’d been so very drunk—did he even remember what he’d told her about the liquor thefts?
“Hey,” he said casually when he reached her side. He looked her up and down approvingly. “Nice dress.”
“Thanks.”
“All you girls and your aunt in matching dresses? How cute.”
Such an asshole. “What do you want, Garrett?”
He took a drag on the joint and handed it to her. Was this a dare? She took a hit and let the smoke slowly swirl through her nostrils before handing it back.
