Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
FRANKIE
R achel was right. Hydrating helped.
For about five minutes.
Until we came back around the hedges and reentered the pool area.
The change in temperature was immediate. Not the air. That was still humid and thick with chlorine and spilled alcohol. The vibe , though? It felt like someone had hit the dimmer switch on fun and cranked the gossip dial to max.
The bass was louder. The pool had more people in it. Laughter still floated above the music like bubbles popping in the sun. But beneath it, there was something else.
Eyes.
Too many of them.
Lingering on me just a second too long. Shifting away when I looked back. Faces half-turned toward their friends as whispers caught the wind.
I slowed automatically, instincts prickling. “Something happened.”
Rachel barely blinked. “Of course something happened. You’re not there to absorb the tension like a human lightning rod anymore, so someone else had to short-circuit.”
My stomach dropped. “Jake.”
“Ding ding,” she said dryly.
I tugged my sarong tighter around my waist. Like that would protect me from the aftershocks of whatever he did. “What did he do?”
“Dunno yet,” she said. “But people are looking at you like you walked in while on fire, so I’m guessing it wasn’t subtle.”
Great.
Just what I needed.
I straightened my shoulders and kept walking. The only way out was through. We moved past the lounge chairs and toward the drinks table, and I could feel the energy shift around me.
Like air pressure.
Like everyone was holding their breath and waiting for me to explode.
“Mitch,” Rachel muttered under her breath. “Three o’clock.”
I turned slightly, and there he was. Mitch, linebacker, too tan for someone who claimed to hate the sun, wearing sunglasses at night and sipping from a red Solo cup like it made him cool instead of cliché.
He grinned when he saw me.
Nope .
“Frankie,” he drawled, too loud, too pleased with himself. “Looking real good tonight.”
Rachel slowed beside me. “Oh my god,” she muttered. “Did your girlfriend fall down a well, Mitch?”
I flinched. “He’s dating Cheryl.”
“ Exactly, ” Rachel said. “Which makes this extra gross.”
Mitch gave us both a cocky little shrug like this was all some inside joke we weren’t smart enough to get. “Can’t a guy give a compliment?”
Rachel turned to him, one hand on her hip. “Sure. If the guy’s single, and the compliment doesn’t come with a side of regret sex fantasy . Try again, wide receiver.”
“I’m a linebacker,” he muttered.
“Not in the moral sense.”
I nearly choked on a laugh.
Mitch looked like he wanted to say something else but thought better of it, especially as Rachel stared him down like she’d be happy to turn his ego into a lawn dart. He slunk away, muttering something under his breath, probably about feminists or sharks or whatever scared him less.
I blew out a breath. “Okay. That wasn’t normal.”
“Nope,” Rachel agreed. “Which means the fallout definitely happened.”
I glanced across the yard, scanning for Jake. Coop. Bubba. Even Archie. But none of them were where we left them.
Instead, I saw Sharon, Patty, and Maria sitting near the shallow end, legs dangling in the water. Sharon caught my eye, smiled faintly, then leaned toward Patty and whispered something that made her smirk widen.
But it was Maria who looked up and didn’t look away.
She didn’t smile.
She didn’t smirk.
She looked… sad .
My stomach turned. “I think they know.”
“Oh yeah,” Rachel said. “The jungle drums are beating, and guess whose name is in the lyrics?”
I pressed a hand to my temple. “I need a drink.”
“You need to breathe .”
“I was breathing. Then I came back here.”
She steered me toward the cooler anyway. “Sip something cold, keep your head high, and whatever happens next, don’t give them the story they want. You’re not a scandal. You’re a main character .”
I wasn’t sure I could do any of that.
But as the music thumped louder and the stares got heavier, I straightened my spine, took the water she offered, and reminded myself not to run.
Even if I really, really wanted to.
I took one more sip of the water before it hit me like a brick to the chest.
“Wait,” I said suddenly. “Where’s Mathieu?”
Rachel stopped mid-reach for a lemon slice. “What?”
I turned a full circle, scanning the crowd again — the patio chairs, the drink table, the poolside, even the shadows near the speakers.
Nothing . The lounge where we’d left him was empty.
The spot beside Coop and Bubba was vacated.
And the fact that Archie wasn’t smirking in my peripheral vision anymore?
Also missing.
My heart kicked up a notch. “Where the hell is he?”
Rachel blinked once. “You’re right. He’s not here. None of them are.”
She meant it. Jake . Coop. Bubba. Mathieu . And Archie, apparently.
Gone.
The ground didn’t tilt, but it felt like it should’ve .
The bad kind of silence was seeping back into the edges of the party. Had someone pressed pause on the vibe and forgot to hit play again?
“They’re together,” I said slowly. “Aren’t they?”
Rachel gave a long, low sigh. “Well. That narrows it down. Either we let the boys figure it out the old-fashioned way via passive-aggressive grunts and bruised egos—or…”
I didn’t even let her finish.
“Rescue,” I said immediately. “It’s a rescue.”
Rachel grinned like a lion. “Knew you’d say that.”
I made a beeline for the girls by the pool, with Rachel on my heels and the knot in my chest twisting tighter. Sharon spotted us coming and arched one perfect eyebrow.
“Looking for your boyfriend?” she asked, all casual venom. “Or boyfriends ? Hard to keep track lately.”
I stopped dead in front of her, blood simmering just under my skin.
But I didn’t get a word in before Rachel stepped past me, all teeth and velvet steel.
“Hey, Sharon?” she said sweetly. “Maybe worry less about her love life and more about the SPF rating on your entire personality. Now.” She clapped her hands once, sharply. “Where’d they go?”
Sharon scowled. Patty let out a snort that she didn’t bother to hide.
Maria, to her credit, sat up a little straighter and answered without waiting. “Archie and Mathieu went inside. Jake, Bubba, and Coop took off around the front of the house a few minutes ago.”
That meant they’d all been gone long enough for people to notice.
Long enough for this mess to spread.
My throat was dry again.
“Thanks,” I said, my voice a little raw. I started moving before I could overthink it. Rachel caught up with me halfway to the back steps.
“Game plan?” she asked.
“Find them before Jake does something he can’t come back from,” I said. “Before any of them do.”
“If the damage is already done?”
“Then I make sure they know who really started the fire.”
Rachel grinned again, but this one was different. More steel. More sisterhood.
“Let’s go crash a testosterone summit.”
The second we stepped through the sliding glass door into the house, the noise dropped by half. The party muffled behind glass, the air cooler and scented with cedar and citrus. Archie’s place always smelled expensive, like it came with a cologne subscription and secrets sealed in wood paneling.
Rachel peeled off to scan the front hall while I paused just inside the kitchen, trying to get my bearings, and saw Jeremy.
Archie’s butler-slash-caretaker-slash-wizard of all things elegant, stood near the wet bar with a folded cloth in hand and an unreadable expression.
But when he saw me, it softened.
“Miss Frankie,” he said, with the gentle kind of smile that made me feel ten again and pretending the world wasn’t hard. “You’re looking radiant tonight.”
“Thanks, Jeremy,” I said, though the compliment landed sideways with everything else clawing at my nerves. “Have you seen Archie? Or Mathieu?”
He nodded, serene as ever. “Mr. Archie took your guest into the study a few minutes ago. For a private conversation.”
My spine straightened like someone pulled a string.
“Private,” I echoed.
Rachel muttered, “That’s never good.”
Jeremy tilted his head. “They didn’t appear hostile. But I trust you’d prefer to check for yourself.”
“Very much,” I said. “Thanks, Jeremy.”
He gave me a slight bow, and we were already moving, past the marble counter, past the gleaming art deco light fixture I’d once heard Archie call “bourbon glam,” down the hall where the light dimmed and the sounds of the party receded entirely.
Rachel’s sandals clicked against the hardwood beside me. “You don’t think Archie would actually?—”
“I don’t know what he’d do,” I said tightly. “That’s the problem.”
We were almost to the study door when another swung open at the far end of the hall.
The front door.
I turned just as Jake, Coop, and Bubba stepped into the foyer. Jake looked like a thundercloud wrapped in cotton, clearly still angry, but muted. Contained. Coop looked exhausted. Bubba, as always, wore the grim patience of someone cleaning up after a mess he didn’t start.
Jake’s eyes locked on mine instantly.
I didn’t flinch, but I didn’t look away either.
Let him see I wasn’t afraid.
Let him feel whatever consequence he’d invited into this night.
I turned before he could say anything, lifted my hand, and knocked once on the heavy oak door of the study. No response.
So I pushed it open.
Without waiting.
Inside, the room was low-lit and cool, the soft scent of old paper and whiskey wrapping around me like a memory. Archie was perched on the edge of his desk, long legs stretched out, glass of something dark in his hand.
Mathieu sat in the leather armchair across from him, one ankle propped on the opposite knee, head angled slightly like he was in the middle of saying something important. Comfortable, but serious.
Both turned when the door opened.
They both looked like I’d just caught them red-handed, not guilty, exactly, but intense.
Wary.
Too quiet.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, voice flat but controlled. “But I figured whatever this was, I should be in the room.”
Rachel stepped in beside me and shut the door behind us with a soft click .
Archie smiled, slow and deliberate. “Hey babe, just in time.”
Mathieu stood immediately, hands open at his sides, brows drawn with concern. “You okay?”
I didn’t answer him yet.
I looked at Archie instead.
And waited.
Archie didn’t blink.
Didn’t move, either.
He just sipped his drink like we were interrupting a dinner party instead of a strategy session. The amber liquid caught the light, and I wondered for a beat if it was the same bottle he cracked open the night he told me he didn’t trust easy, but he trusted me.
Did that mean anything anymore?
I stepped farther into the room, keeping my eyes on him. “What’s going on?”
Archie set the glass down on the desk with a quiet clink , then folded his hands in his lap like a man preparing to deliver a lecture. “We were having a conversation.”
“And?”
“I wanted to get to know your friend a little better,” he said evenly, like this was just standard protocol. “Given the… circumstances.”
I turned to Mathieu. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, stepping forward, his gaze softer when it landed on me. “I’m fine. Archie was being… thorough.”
I looked back at Archie. “Thorough,” I repeated. “That your new word for intimidation?”
His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “He’s the one who sat down, sweetheart. I just asked questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
Mathieu exhaled through his nose, not annoyed, just tired. “About school. Family. Intentions. That sort of thing.”
Rachel made a sound behind me like she was choking on invisible champagne.
“I see,” I said slowly. “And what’s the verdict?”
“That he’s not as foolish as he looks,” Archie said, standing now, reaching for his drink again. “I’m sure you knew that already, didn’t you?”
The way he said you as though I was the wildcard in the deck made something sharp twist in my stomach.
“I didn’t know anyone needed a vetting process,” I said tightly. “I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”
“You don’t,” he said, almost kindly. “But you should’ve expected the scrutiny.”
“I did,” I snapped. “But you guys? Really, Archie?” I laughed once, bitter and low. “You’ve had five girlfriends in the last year and two were sisters.”
Rachel winced beside me. “Oof.”
Archie smirked. “That was a misunderstanding.”
“You mistook one for the other?” I shot back. “Sure.”
He didn’t rise to it. Just sipped his drink again, slow and thoughtful. “I’m not judging your taste, Frankie. I’m trying to figure out if your new attachment’s going to get himself torn apart out there.”
Mathieu’s jaw twitched, but he stayed quiet.
“I can fight my own battles,” I said.
Archie gave me a look that was far too close to sympathy. “You shouldn’t have to.”
I blinked.
That… landed.
Soft. Quiet. Awful.
Before I could decide whether I wanted to be angry or grateful, Rachel spoke up, voice drier than the gin she liked to fake-drink when boys got on her nerves.
“Well, this has been adorable , but in case anyone forgot, the other three Stooges are still just outside this room, probably deciding whether to knock or punch something.”
I turned to the door, pulse picking up again.
Right.
Jake.
Now that I was inside, now that I’d seen Mathieu standing here, calm and intact and not furious, another weight dropped into my stomach like a stone.
“What happened out there?” I asked them both. “Because the whole party’s looking at me like I lit a match in a firework factory.”
Mathieu shifted. “You didn’t. He did.”
Archie raised his eyebrows. “Loudly.”
Rachel crossed her arms. “Define ‘loudly.’”
Mathieu gave me a look I couldn’t quite read. “He told them.”
For a second, I didn’t understand. Told them what?
Then the bottom fell out.
He told them.
The weight of it hit me so hard I had to sit.
Jake had told them. Everyone . That Mathieu and I had slept together. That he knew .
I pressed a hand to my stomach. It didn’t help.
“Frankie—” Mathieu started.
I shook my head once. “I need a minute.”
Archie handed me his glass without a word.
I didn’t drink it.
But I held it tight, like it might steady me.