CHAPTER THREE
Edward, fifteen
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled underneath my breath.
I was leaning against the wall of the North Wixby Country Club, dressed in a suit and tie, miserable.
My mother sat in a nice chair against the wall near some other moms. She gave me a smile of encouragement, and I had to fight not to roll my eyes.
Instead, I gave her a weak smile in return.
She had enough problems dealing with my dad without me giving her trouble, too.
I’d heard him yelling at her again last night, and her eyes had been red and swollen this morning.
“What’s the big deal?” My best friend, Alex Lufton, asked. “We’re dressed to impress, looking our best, and we’re about to be not just allowed, but actually told to touch pretty girls.”
Everyone at the boarding school we both attended in Atlanta called him Lufton. I wasn’t even sure if I’d ever called him Alex. He was staying with us for the summer on account of his parents being in Europe. Again.
I gave him a look. Lufton was so relaxed with girls. I, on the other hand, was a disaster. As soon as I got near a pretty one, I broke out in a sweat and quit saying words that made sense. I could barely string a coherent sentence together.
“Maybe you don’t understand me,” he went on, smoothing down his suit jacket while he talked.
“Look around you. Gorgeous girls in pretty dresses are all over the place and more keep coming through those doors. We’re going to hold them in our arms for two hours a week, each week, for the entire summer, Edward.
You’re tall enough to look down their dresses.
I’m short enough to be face to face with a bunch of them, and boob height with a few.
This is the best thing to happen to us in years. ”
“We hardly know anyone,” I whispered to him.
Lufton and I hadn’t been allowed to hang out with many other children from Wixby as we grew up.
Not even the country club kids. My family owned Ashton Orchards, one of the largest fruit distributors in the state of Georgia and the Southeast. We were wealthy, there was no doubt, but compared to the Lufton family? We looked like paupers.
Lufton’s family owned a chain of ultra-exclusive luxury hotels all over the world.
He was born in London but moved to Wixby as a child since it was his mom’s hometown.
She’d said she wanted to raise him here, but she and her husband were hardly ever home.
He spent most of his time at either my house or our boarding school in Atlanta.
It didn’t seem to affect him negatively, though. He was the smoothest guy I knew, and everything just seemed to go right for him. And if it didn’t? It never seemed to bother him a bit.
He scrunched up his face. “Who cares?” He looked around, his white-blond hair, styled perfectly, didn’t move. “I’m sure there are some decent guys here.”
He was probably right. I looked around the group of guys and girls in the room but didn’t immediately see anyone that stood out to me. Finally, I did see a pal of mine and Lufton’s from boarding school, Joseph Haddows. I gave him a head nod, and he started walking towards us.
“Y’all had to come to this, too?” He pulled at the collar of his shirt, looking as unhappy as I felt.
“Obviously,” Lufton said without malice as he winked at a pretty brunette.
Joseph ignored Lufton. Either that or the comment went right over his head. “I heard,” he said in a low voice that caused us both to lean forward, “that some kids from the Hargrave and Whittaker families are going to be here. You know? The Wixby River Farms kids?”
Immediately, both Lufton and I perked up.
If there were any families in Wixby that rivaled ours in wealth and status, it was the Hargraves and the Whittakers.
They owned a massive family farm together and had for generations.
There were a bunch of kids between the two families.
They always seemed to hang out together, and most people had a hard time figuring out which kids belonged to which family.
At least, that’s what I’d heard. I’d never actually met any of them. They were like unicorns around here. Or bigfoot. They were rumored to exist, but you never saw them.
Because of how close the two families were, among other things, they were often the topic of local gossip. My mother was extremely sheltered. She rarely left the house. I didn’t even go to school here. And yet we both still knew gossip about those families.
“And,” Joseph continued, “everyone says that Cara and Olivia Hargrave are the prettiest girls you’ll ever see.”
I felt a flutter of nerves in my stomach.
Really pretty girls made me extra nervous.
I could sometimes handle just your average sort of pretty.
But truly beautiful? Well, that made me clam up and act like a fool every time.
I glanced at Lufton who was practically rubbing his hands together.
I wished I could be more like him. He flirted and laughed with every single pretty girl, or woman, he’d ever seen.
He’d have girls five years older than him eating out of his hand in minutes. It was disgusting. And impressive.
But I wasn’t like him. I was actually kind of shy.
“How pretty are we talking?” Lufton asked.
Joseph grinned. “Gorgeous.” He leaned in. “And they also have big…”
“Who are y’all talking about?”
The three of us turned, startled. Standing close to the wall near us were two guys. They were the only ones not wearing suits. Instead, they wore button downs, blazers, and khakis. No ties. I was instantly jealous.
The taller of the two guys was the one who’d spoken, and he was waiting for an answer.
“The Hargrave girls,” Joseph said.
The guy snorted. “What about them?”
I had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew them. Especially when I saw the frown on the face of the guy standing next to him.
Joseph picked up on what I had and backtracked fast. “Nothing, really. Just that they’re pretty.”
“Right. Pretty. I’m sure that’s what you were saying.” The taller guy came over to us, followed closely by the other one. “I’m Declan Whittaker. This is my brother, Aidan.”
Shit. They were two of the Whittaker brothers. The ones rumored to be as close as siblings with the Hargrave girls. “Look,” I said, “I’m sorry if we upset y’all by talking about the Hargraves…”
Declan waved my apology off as he grinned at a cute redhead and adjusted his collar. “Damn, son. If I got pissed at every guy who thought Cara and Olivia were pretty, I’d be mad at the whole town. Nah, I don’t care. Just keep your hands to yourselves while you dance with them.”
“Of course,” I stammered.
Lufton laughed and said, “No promises!”
Declan and Aidan looked at him as if they weren’t sure whether to take him seriously. They should have.
Declan Whittaker was friendly, but his brother was… not. He especially seemed to have taken an instant dislike to Lufton. Not that he cared. That was Lufton for you. He liked pretty much everyone and didn’t really care if they liked him back. He assumed they would, and they usually did.
The stink-eye Aidan was giving him didn’t bother him in the slightest.
“My lord,” Lufton said, looking over Aidan’s shoulder. “Who is that?”
We all looked over to the door, where an incredibly beautiful and glamorous woman was walking through the door. Three girls trailed in after her, but I didn’t get a good look at them. I was too busy staring at their mother.
“Damn,” I breathed. I wasn’t much into older women, but this lady looked like someone right out of a magazine…
or a movie. I couldn’t tell how tall she was.
She seemed like she was probably short, but she wore very high heels with a dress that hugged every curve she had.
And she had a lot of curves. She also had long, shiny black hair and was wearing sunglasses.
Inside. And they somehow looked right on her. She was insanely beautiful.
I swallowed hard.
Declan looked over casually. “Oh, that’s just our neighbor. Charity Hargrave.”
“She’s… incredible,” Joseph said, pulling on his tie like it was choking him.
Declan and Aidan snickered. “She’s like a second mom to us,” Aidan said. “I mean, I guess I know she’s good-looking on some level, but it feels… gross to think it.” He shuddered.
A tall, thin woman stood up and waved to her. She was pretty, with dark hair and blue eyes. “Charity, over here.”
Every single male eye followed Charity Hargrave as she walked slowly over to a seat that the thin lady had saved for her. I’d never seen a woman in real life with a figure like hers, much less a mom of all people.
“She’s sitting with our mom. Orla Whittaker,” Declan said helpfully.
I couldn’t help but notice that the other moms were giving Charity Hargrave and Orla Whittaker semi-nasty looks.
I wondered if it was because they were pretty or because they were two of the richest women in the room.
Or some of both. Or it could be the fact that they always kept to themselves.
My mom had said something before about how the Hargraves and Whittakers never joined any committees or worked any charity fundraisers.
They just showed up and enjoyed the events instead.
If they came at all.
I glanced over at my mom. She was kind of by herself.
I winced when I saw her outfit next to the other moms. In her stuffy skirt suit and large pearls, she looked as out of place as Charity Hargrave.
Charity should be on a movie set. My mom looked like she stepped out of the past. I wasn’t sure what time period.
Maybe the 1950s? She just always dressed like an old lady.
She had my whole life, but I was only just now realizing she was different from the other ladies in town.