The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (218 page)

BOOK: The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance
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Noelle walked over, having a bit of trouble keeping her balance in the thick sand, and put her hand over Kiran’s before she could expose herself.

“We are not having a best boob contest,” she said, shaking her head as she gestured with a half-full bottle of champagne.

“Noelle. You are dead to me,” Gage said, taking a swig of his beer and almost falling over from the change in balance the action caused.

“No. I’m not saying
no,
” Noelle said. “But we can’t do it. Not without Poppy. If Poppy gets here, then I am totally in.”

“Okay, Noelle. That’s it. I’m taking away the champagne,” I said, shoving myself up from the ground and reaching for her bottle. I had never seen her so drunk in my life. Noelle usually liked to maintain at least the appearance of being in control.

“Do not touch the bubbly, Glass-Licker!” she said, pointing a finger at me and holding the champagne out of my reach. “Don’t forget I control your living situation when we get home!”

“I would
never
try to take away your bubbly,” Amberly insisted, her eyes at half-mast as she tried to hug Noelle. “That’s how much I love you!”

“All right! Now we’re talking! Girl on girl!” Gage crowed, plopping into the sand as if he were getting ready for the show.

“This is ridiculous,” I said under my breath.

I looked around for Upton, who had gone in search of the bathroom with Dash a good fifteen minutes ago. He had promised to come right back so that we could go for a walk alone on the beach together—to get away from the craziness and score some quality time, which would be nice, considering the fact that every girl here seemed to be flirting with him tonight. Blame the alcohol again. So far, I had managed to ignore the giggles and grins and batting eyelashes, but a girl only had so much tolerance for such things. When he got back, he was all mine.

Unfortunately, Upton was nowhere to be found. I hoped he hadn’t gotten sick. Upon arrival, he had downed four beers faster than I could have consumed four root beers and proceeded to suggest the limbo.

No one had taken him up on it.

Finally, I spotted Dash wending his way back toward us from the patio area. He, at least, was slightly less drunk than the rest.

“Dash! Have you seen Upton?” I asked, jogging over to him.

“Yeah. He’s right behind me,” Dash said, gesturing over his shoulder.

I squinted toward the hotel and saw three people sort of lurching in my direction, their arms looped around one another. As they passed under one of the lampposts around the pool, I saw that it was, in fact, Upton, and that he had his arms around Paige on one side and Sienna on the other. They all were laughing, and Sienna’s hand had worked its way under Upton’s shirt and onto his bare chest. Paige was leaning her head on his shoulder, her mouth tipped toward his neck.

They’re just drunk, Reed. They’re drunk.

But it did matter. Whatever I’d been telling myself, Upton had become way more than just a fling. I couldn’t handle seeing him getting all sloppy over two girls who were not me.

Then, while I stood there like a pathetic, gaping loser, Sienna grabbed Upton by the back of the neck, pulled him to her, and kissed him . . . and he didn’t push her away.

Bile rose up in the back of my throat, burning like hot soup. I turned around, found Noelle’s clutch purse in the sand, and fished out her keys as tears burned my eyes. I had to get out of there. Now.

“Hey, Glass-Licker, what’re you doing with my stuff?” Noelle asked, slinging her arm around Dash’s back as she joined us. Dash looked very pleased at this development.

“I need to go home,” I told her, my voice cracking. I kept my back turned to Upton and his two gropers, not wanting to see anything more. I handed over the purse but kept the keys.

“Oh, no. You are not taking my car,” Noelle said. “Dash, tell her she cannot take my car,” she added, getting right up in his face—so close that their noses touched. I saw Dash glance down at her cleavage, which was half exposed by her current position, and he blushed like mad.

“Um, Reed. You can take her car,” Dash said. “I’ll drive her home.”

“Yeah. I’m sure you will,” I said.

“Wait a minute. I said no. You’re supposed to be kissing my butt,” Noelle protested.

“Yes. And I promise I’ll get right back to it tomorrow,” I said, my heart pounding. Upton, Paige, and Sienna had to be getting dangerously close. Unless, of course, they had stopped to have a three-way in the sand. “Later.”

I was out of there before she could argue further. I fled down the beach, taking the long route back to the parking lot so that Upton and his girl toys wouldn’t spot me.

All the way back to the Langes’, I forced myself not to cry. The island roads were unfamiliar and not well lit, and the last thing I needed was to go driving off the pavement. Luckily, their house wasn’t too far from the Simon Hotel, and I was back within ten minutes. That was about as much as my aching tear ducts could take. As soon as I got to my room and closed the door behind me, I let the tears fly.

How had everything deteriorated so quickly? Just last night, I had been beyond happy. Upton and I had spent all that time alone together, talking about Christmas memories and silly stuff from our pasts. I had thought we were getting to know each other and that we’d come out of that library with a deeper connection. But he just couldn’t stay away from the Upton Game girls, could he?

I sat down in the center of my perfectly made bed and grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand. It was Christmas. I shouldn’t be crying. I should have been home, watching
Home Alone
with my brother, eating popcorn and leftover chocolate chip muffins. I missed Scott. I missed my mom and dad and my dog. I even missed snow. Who the hell spent Christmas in the islands? It was unnatural. Didn’t everyone dream of a white freaking Christmas?

I tried to stop myself, but I was having a pity party, so of course I had to invite in thoughts of Josh. I couldn’t believe that he hadn’t called or texted or e-mailed
once
since that night at the hospital. He had told me he would keep me informed about Ivy. He had practically told me he was still in love with me. Yet here it was, the biggest holiday of the year, and not so much as a
MERRY XMAS! TTYL!

I got up and walked over to the window, then felt a sudden chill and immediately took a step back. What if my stalker was out there right now?

I stepped aside and stood against the wall, out of sight, trying to catch my breath. Was there really someone following me? Was it Poppy? Had she staged her own disappearance so she could watch my every move with no one suspecting? What if she was still on the island? What if she was the one who had messed with my Jet Ski? And Misty . . . was that whole thing just a coincidence, or had someone spooked her that day?

Another chill raced down my spine, and I suddenly realized how supremely idiotic it had been of me to come back here by myself. Noelle’s mom and dad were out with the other parents, and they’d given the staff the night off for the holiday. If someone were trying to kill me, this would be the perfect time to do it. What kind of moron was I? A suicidal one, apparently.

I grabbed my cell phone and ran to the great room to turn on the lights, trying to make it look like I was not the only one home. Then I went into the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets until I found a wooden block full of nice, big knives. I took one out and laid it
on the counter, ready to be grabbed if I needed it. Then I sat down on one of the stools and held my phone in both hands, waiting.

If someone broke in here, I would be ready. And if the Langes came back, I’d just pretend I was getting a midnight snack.

Turning over my phone in my hands, I willed it to ring or beep or something. If Josh called me right now, I would forgive him. If Upton called me right now, I would listen to his explanation. I needed to talk to someone, to hear them tell me how silly I was being. I needed to feel safe. I closed my eyes and willed them to hear my psychic plea.

But nothing happened.

ONE LAST MEAL

The next morning, I woke up and the light in my room was all wrong. It was too bright. Apparently, I had overslept, which made sense considering I’d sat in the kitchen until 2 a.m. when the Langes finally had come home from their party. I couldn’t believe that Upton hadn’t called me. Had he even noticed I was gone? Or had he spent the rest of the night getting mauled by Sienna?

My heart squeezed and I clenched my jaw, resolving not to think about it. I was done with Upton Giles. From now on, he could kiss whomever the hell he wanted to kiss. I was not going to care.

I glanced over at the window, wondering if my bird had tried to wake me up earlier, and I sat up straight, a surprised shout escaping my throat.

The little blue bird lay on the floor in front of the window, dead.

“Reed? Are you okay?”

Noelle burst into my room, dressed for the day in jeans and a green
jersey top. I looked at her, my mouth agape, clutching the sheets to my chest.

“It’s my bird,” I said, pointing at the floor.

She walked tentatively around the bed until she could see him. Her hand went to her chest.

“God, Reed. You scared the crap out of me,” she complained.

“He’s dead,” I replied. “What happened to him?”

Noelle threw her hands up and slapped them down at her sides. “What do I look like, a bird coroner? You didn’t have to scream.”

“I didn’t
scream
,” I replied. “Besides, have you ever woken up with a dead animal in your room?” I shot back. She had no response to that one as she sat down on the edge of my bed. “This sucks,” I said, tears filling my eyes. “Why did he have to die
here?
If he’d just never come back I would’ve figured he’d found someone else to sing to.”

A tear spilled down my cheek, and I knew it was possible I was being dramatic. But I’d had a rough night, and this was just the capper.

Noelle looked at me and clucked her tongue. “Okay, Snow White. Do you want to take him outside and bury him?” she offered, putting her arm around my shoulders.

I was surprised she’d come up with the idea, and I whipped aside my sheets before she could change her mind. “I’ll get dressed.”

“This is unbelievable,” Noelle said, shaking her head. “You’re supposed to be catering to me, remember?”

“How about a day off for bereavement?” I suggested.

“Fine. Whatever. One day.” She sighed and stood up as I rushed for
the bathroom. “Maritza! Can you come in here with the dustpan?” she shouted. “And some kind of small box?” I was just about to close the bathroom door when she added, “Oh! And that little vacuum thing?”

“What do we need a vacuum for?” I asked, peaking out of the bathroom as I dried my eyes.

Noelle was just standing up on the other side of the bed. She had my bag of birdseed in her hand. “He knocked this over. There’s birdseed all over the floor behind the table.”

My chest constricted. The seed reminded me of what the bird had meant to me. How I had provided for him and had wanted to take care of him. Fab job I had done of that.

“At least he got one last meal,” Noelle told me brightly. “That’s something.”

“Sure. That’s something,” I replied.

I just wished that everyone around me would quit dying.

PARANOID

As always, when we arrived at Shutters, Noelle’s parents split off to hang out with the other parents, while Noelle and I joined Kiran, Taylor, Tiffany, and Amberly, who already were seated at a table in the center of the patio, a few spots away from the Ryans & Friends table. I was starting to think that the reason most of these families came down here for the holidays was so that they
wouldn’t
have to spend time with one another.

As Marquis led us to our table, I noticed that all of my friends were in zipped hoodies and huge sunglasses. Kiran looked slightly more put-together than the rest—her hair was actually combed—but Tiff, Taylor, and Amberly looked as though they’d tumbled in a clothes dryer for half an hour before leaving their houses. Hangover, party of four?

“Hi, everyone!” I said brightly, loudly scraping back my chair.

They all groaned and shifted position. Taylor folded her arms on
the table and dropped down her head with a bang that caused all the silverware to clatter.

“Hey, Reed.” Tiffany attempted a smile. “I hate you.”

“Pardon my perkiness. It’s totally fake,” I replied, slouching down along with them. “I may not have been drunk, but I didn’t have a good night either.”

“And her bird died this morning,” Noelle said.

“What? Oh, no!” Taylor said, lifting her head slightly.

“Poor birdie!” Amberly added.

“That sucks,” Kiran put in. She lifted her juice glass. “To Reed’s bird. We hardly knew you. Actually, we didn’t know you at all. Rest in peace.” She took a swig of her juice. Everyone else made sympathetic sounds. It was all they could muster.

“You can all visit his oceanside grave if you want,” Noelle said, signaling for a waiter. “It’s got quite an exquisite view, for a bird cemetery.”

“I’ll get the waiter for you!” Amberly announced, recalling her duties as Noelle’s slave. “What do you want? I’ll order it.”

“Down, girl,” Noelle said firmly. “I’m giving Reed the day off, so you may as well kick back, too. Have some coffee. You look like someone hit you in the face with a frying pan.”

Amberly dropped back into her seat, looking like a kicked puppy. But she reached for the coffee like a good lackey. I realized that, compared to everyone else at the table, Noelle was curiously hangover-free as well. I wondered if some of her drunkenness the night before had been an act. An excuse to get so flirty with Dash, perhaps? Maybe
when he’d driven her home they had finally sealed the deal. He had yet to arrive at Shutters that morning, and I made a mental note to watch him and Noelle when they first saw each other. The look exchanged between them would tell all.

“Well, I don’t know if this is good news or bad news, Reed, but my father wasn’t able to sharpen up that image,” Tiffany said, reaching for the silver coffee carafe at the center of the table. “All anyone can tell is that it’s a person and that the person is blond.”

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