“He likes you,” a posh voice says, and we all glance up.There is something strange about the voice, something familiar, and my brain tries to rationalize it—he must do voice work for commercials or something. The tone is smooth and comforting in a way I never expected a voice to be. I want to wrap myself in it and have him read me the dictionary just so I can hear it.
Out of the shadows steps a tall tan-skinned man with a slender frame. He’s easily six feet tall, if not more, and I see hints that he’s muscular under his three-piece suit. I drink in the sight of him, from his black leather wing-tipped shoes, up the narrow slant of his hips, to the solid set of his shoulders. His presence is like a magnet, drawing me to him, and I want to step into his orbit and feel the strength of the pull. He has a young, narrow face with prominent cheekbones and a faint layer of scruff on his strong jaw. His gaze remains stuck on me, unmoving, as he slides his hands into his pockets, almost like he’s trying to stop himself from reaching out.
If I had to guess his age, I would have said late twenties, or maybe early thirties at a stretch, but when I meet his electric blue eyes, they seem sad and older than his years. There is a certain weariness to his face. I want to reach out and smooth the wrinkle between his eyes, and light a lavender candle to soothe him. Something in my soul tells me he would like that scent.
His eyes catch mine and linger, and my heart stumbles over itself. I think for a moment that I hear ballroom music, but it’s faint, and I assume I’m hearing things. The sadness in his eyes seems to lessen as he studies me closely. His lips twist into a small, closed-mouth smile meant only for me, before he turns his attention to everyone else.
“Welcome ladies,” he says, and I startle, trying again to place his voice. Maybe it’s one of those medical infomercials? “I heard of your misfortunes this morning. My assistant, Sybil, was behind you in their car and saw the whole thing. Please, come in and make yourselves at home.” He gestures toward the large room before us. It’s wide open and would be better suited as a ballroom than a living room. On closer inspection, I think it might be just that, dressed up with couches against the walls and the large bay windows. Outside the back wall of windows, I can see an infinity pool, water glistening in the morning sun, and beyond that, the beach. This man must be filthy rich. I study the large marble fireplace, and my gaze follows the stunning architecture up to the ceiling, where three large, ornate chandeliers hang. In the corner is a black grand piano, because, of course. Lifestyles of the rich and famous are exactly like I imagined.
“Can I please use your phone to call my boyfriend?” Tiffany asks. She steps toward him, her long legs nearly clearing the distance between them in one step, her hands clasped together to plead. The gorgeous stranger gives her a dazzling smile that doesn’t meet his clear blue eyes.
“Of course. Your driver is currently using it, but once he’s done, you’re welcome to it. Shall I have some snacks brought out to you?” When no one moves, he walks into the living room, as if we all need to be led.
“Can we get some, like, band-aids and ice?” Cat asks. “My friend’s eye is swelling shut, and I want to get it cleaned up.” I take her hand gratefully and give it a little squeeze.
“Of course.” He sounds almost frustrated as he looks at me and then the cut on my eye before surveying the sorry state of us all. He turns to his assistant, who I now know is named Sybil, and murmurs something in their ear.I feel his gaze on me again as he gives them instructions, and it makes me want to stand up a little straighter and fix my hair. The thought is ridiculous, given what we’ve just been through.
“Please excuse me. I’ll get you all some medical supplies and food,” they say reassuringly, and with what looks like a quick bow, slip away. The man smiles at us again, and I see almost everyone smile back. Cat and I sink onto the nearest couch. Although we’ve been sitting all morning, I feel exhausted. The effort of remaining upright is taking everything out of me.
“Thank you,” I call to the man, wondering if he’s not telling us his name because he’s too famous or rich to want us to know who he is. His blue eyes meet mine again, even as a chorus of thank you’s follow mine. I rub my arms, unable to shake the chill I’ve had since waking up on the bus.
He smiles at me, and this time it reaches his eyes. “Ladies, my name is Essos. Please let me know if you need anything at all. My staff is available to you. Once we have news about your replacement bus, we’ll let you know.” With that, he turns and leaves down the same hallway from which he came, his footsteps not making a sound.
Sybil returns with a first aid kit and a trio of people dressed in what I assume are staff uniforms who start attending to the more serious cuts. Cat tries to wave them over to me, but I push her arm down.
“I’m really okay; let them take care of the others first. I think I heard someone say Ginny’s arm was dislocated.” I glance around for the tall captain of the basketball team. She’s across the room, curled up in a chair and cradling her arm.
Cat ignores me and sets off in the direction of the medical supplies.
Around me, I hear snippets of conversations about who Essos might be. His posh accent acts as fodder, and I hear a number of ideas thrown around, some of the most popular being that he’s a tech mogul, a finance wiz, an A-list director, or British aristocracy. Almost everyone's focus has drifted from getting on the road as soon as possible to trying to figure out Essos’s identity. Even the girls who have boyfriends on the volleyball team no longer seem worried about getting back on the road.Only Tiffany is resolutely looking around the room for someone to bring her to the phone. Beside her, Zara is trying to scroll through her phone, and I’m jealous that she still has access to it. Both Zara and Tiffany seem to have escaped the accident with nary a scratch. Zara’s shiny black hair doesn’t even look frizzy; meanwhile, I feel like I’ve been dropped down a garbage chute.
The group settles in as more people filter into the room with food and drinks. The surprises never stop, including the number of people tending to us. Although, given the size of the estate, it makes sense that the house has such a large staff.
Cat returns with some wipes and gauze, along with an ice pack. She winces while balancing a second tray of food for the two of us. I let her fuss over me and clean the cut, wincing when the antiseptic touches the open wound.
“Quit being a baby. It’s actually not as bad as I thought, but I still want it looked at.” When she tries to put the ice pack on my head, I push her hand away.Cat glares at me. “Quit being a martyr.”
“I’m really okay,” I hedge.
“Daphne, please, you need to bring the swelling down.” I take the ice pack from Cat’s hand and place it on the tray.
“I’m cold enough already—I don’t want to make my head cold too.”
The pit bulls continue to sniff around the girls. The three dogs look well loved and tended to, each one proving that pit bulls have a needlessly bad reputation. The black one circles Sybil as they move from girl to girl to apply dressings. They start with a girl named Anna, who has a long but not deep cut on her forearm.
The white pit bull has jumped onto a couch, trying to sneak snacks, and the grey one keeps licking hands and bare legs. They get underfoot and sniff everyone’s bags, perhaps for any additional snacks they might have. Eventually, they scamper off in the direction their master went.
Cat’s frown deepens, but before she can say anything, the dogs rush into the room again, alerting us to Essos’s return.Cat takes advantage of my distraction and places the ice pack on my cut, worsening the chill I feel that no one else seems bothered by. Cat is fortunate enough to not have any cuts, only bruises, so I let her fuss over me.
“I’ve heard from the driver that the bus company estimates it will be about 6 hours before the replacement bus is available, and then it will need to make its way here. So rather than lose a beautiful day like this, why don’t you ladies enjoy the pool and beach? Sybil can show you each to a restroom or guest room so you can change, if you would like.” I frown and wonder why the driver didn’t tell us this himself. Then again, I wouldn’t blame the man if he needed some time away from the group to have a stiff drink. I look back out the large windows and take in the sight of the pool and the beach again.
Essos smiles at us all, and I shiver and rub my arms, smiling back. Maybe lounging in the sun will help my chill. Essos catches sight of my attempt to warm myself, and a small frown appears on his face. With his hands at his side, he rolls one wrist, and I feel warmth spread from my insides out to my fingers, the way liquor warms a body. I relax as the warmth trickles out to my limbs. For a moment, my brain tries to make a connection between Essos’s movement and my sudden comfort, but there is no way. Still, I catch the slight easing of tension around his eyes as my body loosens. He must just be very invested in his guests’ comfort. That’s the only reasonable explanation.
Though I assume Essos must have something more important to do, he takes the time to talk with some of the girls and ask after their welfare. He never comes to me and Cat, but I feel him watching me.
Sybil comes to me next, and Cat gives up her seat so that Sybil can get a better look at my face. Since Cat already cleaned the wound, Sybil focuses on dressing it. My eye feels puffy, and I wish I had gotten a look at it to see just how bad it is. Sybil dabs at my skin, cleaning off the blood around it.
“This isn’t too bad. Just a little swollen,” Sybil says as they place a fresh ice pack in my hand and press it against the swelling. I figure the ice must be working, because I can open my eye a little wider now, so I hold it in place. My insides are still warm, and I barely notice the cold anymore.