“That means that I wish he was down here with us, so I could make the right kind of impression. Maybe build a friendship from this kindness that he’s shown us.” She winks atfriendship, and I scoff, as a few of the girls murmur their mutual appreciation of our host. I fear they wouldn’t believe me about what I heard, so I keep quiet.
“I wonder what he’s really like. I mean, look at this house and the fact that he has staff just milling around. He must be crazy stupid rich.” Cat pulls her long blond hair into a messy bun. She slides into the pool and treads water while still watching the group.
I take a bite of a strawberry and study the façade of the house, envisioning the beginning of the building process and how it looked when it was nothing but frames and studs providing a small glimpse into the future of the home. A house this size is easily worth millions, and who knows how much land it’s sitting on. The main room is large, with windows two stories high. Spanning from the center of the building where the ballroom-like space is, I can see two different wings to the north and the south. I noticed only one main stairway, which must connect the two wings of the house.
By the time someone finishes cleaning this place, they must have to start again.
Sybil is talking to each group of girls, making sure that everyone has everything they need before explaining something. I’m studying the faces of the others as they listen. They look enthusiastic as they nod along. Out of twenty women, surely I can’t be the only one to have reservations, but as each woman smiles at Sybil, I start to think I am overreacting.
Sybil approaches our group, and I sit up straighter, ready to hear what they have to say. Their tone is as kind as ever. “Ladies, since we’re still waiting on a replacement bus, Essos has offered to host you all for dinner this evening. While he prefers formal dining, he is aware that you’re not prepared for a formal event. Please don whatever you have brought with you, and we will meet in the formal dining room at five p.m. We have showers available—please coordinate through me, and I will direct you. Before you ask, the time is now 3:30.”
My hackles rise. Another delay? I talked myself down, but with this news, I’m on edge again. “I’m confused—is the bus going to be late?” I ask, my eyes narrowing. We’ve already been here longer than the six hours we were promised. I didn’t realize how much time passed.
Sybil looks at me sympathetically. “Yes. The driver advised that his company is short on buses, so they had to wait for another bus to come back and then drive from the origin to this destination. The new estimated time for a bus is nine p.m., and we want to make sure that you are well fed before getting back to your travels.”
I have to remind myself to breathe as dots connect in my head. How could they have known hours ago that we would need to stay for dinner?
A strangled noise escapes Tiffany.
“I have to ask, are you and Essos, like, a thing? I mean, it’s weird that he’s your boss and you call him by his first name. Shouldn’t he be, like, Mr. Essos or something?” Zara asks, looking up at Sybil. It’s like Zara is mentally calculating her competition for his affection.
I cross my leg and “accidentally” kick water at Zara, who gives me a sharp look. I tell myself that now is not the time to be thinking about hooking up with Essos, and my action has nothing to do with how I felt when he had his eyes on me earlier.
Sybil flushes before answering very firmly, “No, we are not. We just work closely together. If you have any further needs, let me know.” They move along, shaking their head.
Sybil chats with the remaining cluster of girls before resuming their post by the door. I survey the groups as they chatter animatedly, and I don’t see a shred of concern, apart from Tiffany. None of the others with boyfriends on the team seem worried about getting to the event. In fact, none of the conversations I hear around us even mention missing them.
All at once, girls start to get up and ask Sybil about having a shower and preparing for dinner. Cat and I share a look, a silent vow to stick together.
This trip is starting to feel like some sort of Lifetime movie where only one of us is going to live to tell the tale. That’s not going to happen if I have anything to say about it.
CHAPTER4
Cat and I share a bathroom again to get ready for dinner. Rather than wait for Cat to take her usual hour-long shower, I jump in ahead of her. Then, while she sings in the shower, I braid my hair before unbraiding it, uncertain about how best to style it. I give up, allowing my dark brown curls to drop at will. At some point, I started to care what I look like for dinner with Essos, and I’m mad at myself for it.
For all I know, he could be a serial rapist. If TV has taught me anything, it’s that we should be wary of a guy in his late twenties to early thirties, a loner type with a secluded spot where he can take his victims. Usually, an unsub like this will be charismatic, putting his victims at ease. Essos fits that bill, and while I’ve yet to have a direct conversation with him, he’s been attentive to everyone’s needs. And yes, I would have to be a moron not to admit how good-looking the man is. If all things were made equal, I wouldn’t say no if he asked me out.
Cat steps out of the shower with a towel wrapped tight around her body. She looks at my outfit, a grin brightening her face. “Isn’t that my dress?”
“No, it’s mine, you just borrowed it freshman year and never returned it.”
She shrugs, her way of acknowledging that I’m right. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” she asks, her blue eyes locking with mine in the mirror.
“What is?”
“That we’re both pretty sure we’re going to dinner with a serial killer, but we still want to look our best.” She lets out a sharp laugh, and the thought sinks in for both of us. I regret not telling the other girls and rallying them against this possible psycho. I place my hands on her shoulders, a sad smile on both our faces. As if craving touch, she pulls me into a tight hug.
“You know I love you like a sister, right, Daphne?” She standsand looks at me head-on. She towers over me, even in the sensible flats we’re both so thankful we packed. We grabbed them assuming we’d need them for wandering around Santa Monica, not so that we’d be ready to run for our lives.
“Stop, we’re going to be fine. I probably misunderstood—I could have brain damage or at least a concussion,” I say, trying to reason with myself, but there is no belief behind these words. While we were outside, I looked around to see how we could get out if we needed to. I failed to come up with a workable plan. Essos has security cameras everywhere and endless staff milling around, and I remember coming through a large gate before driving down the mountainside to his house.
“No,youstop. In any case, today was terrifying, and I just want to make sure you know that.” Cat hugs me. I’m careful to not hug her as tightly as I did earlier, more aware of her bruises.
“Of course, I know that. You’re closer to me than my family is. We’re going to be fine. I promise we’ll make it out of this alive.” I try to reassure her, but I have no way of keeping that promise, and we both know it.
All the other girls are in the dining room by the time we emerge, and we’re lucky to find two seats side by side at the far end of the table. The other girls already jockeyed to get as close to Essos as possible, which is fine by me. Silently, I map the exits. There aren’t many; the door we entered through leads back into the main living area and foyer. Across the room from that door is what must be a servants’ door that leads to the kitchen, if the people emerging with plates are any indication. Essos is seated closest to the main entrance while I’m directly across from him, a bare wall at my back. He meets my gaze and gives me a tentative smile, and it feels like the room dims a little, the lighting becoming more romantic. When I look around, no one else seems bothered by a change in the lighting…because there was no change.
The food is served as if we’re in some sort of period drama, with people slowly moving around the table and allowing us to put the food on our own plates. We’re all pulling from the same platters, family style. The food starts to the left of Essos and circles around the table so that he is always the last one served. A few of the girls fumble, as if unsure what to do when presented with white-glove service. I probably wouldn’t have known either, if not for watchingDownton Abbey.