11. MEETING
CHLOE
The last thing I wanted to do was leave the bed to go to one of the Nguyen’s parties, but I had little choice. Bryce made it easier because he had to take another call. He kissed me on the cheek, told me he loved me again and was gone. Once he left, the bed seemed cold.
I dragged myself up and into the shower.
The luxurious bathroom and its designer personal-care items always cheered me, mainly because all the shampoo and shower gels smelled like Bryce.
I lathered myself in every substance available, thinking about our encounter that afternoon.
Unf. My husband was giving me all the attention I craved.
I only wanted to be with him, to be next to him, to soak up as much of his love and presence as I could.
It was like I was a lizard, and he was the sun: I had to take as much as I could get because I would need it later.
Later, if I had to leave him again.
I shoved the thought from my mind. Maybe Gene would let me stay. Perhaps he’d agree that keeping things on an even keel would benefit his son and, more importantly to Gene, his company. I would just have to try and convince him.
For now, I vowed to bask in the warmth of Bryce’s love and attention. I was helpless against it, anyway. I craved my husband—his touch, his approval, his presence. I intended to get it while the getting was good.
I rough-dried my hair and left my face bare: Midge would want to be in charge of my appearance tonight. I hustled to the dressing room, formerly my bedroom, and found her inside having a whispered conversation.
With Hazel.
“Oh—hi!” I tightened my fluffy bathrobe against me. “I didn’t expect you both to be in here.”
Hazel and Midge turned to me. Midge’s cheeks were flushed; Hazel’s features were stony.
I’d obviously interrupted. “Is something wrong? I can come back—”
“No, Mrs. Windsor, I don’t mean to cause a delay. You need to get ready for the party,” Hazel said stiffly. “Midge and I were just discussing something. We could use your help.”
Midge’s nostrils flared. “ I didn’t agree to that! You think it’s a good idea, but I don’t. Chloe has enough on her plate at the moment.”
“Mrs. Windsor,” Hazel corrected her, “can most likely make a decision for herself. Can’t you, Mrs. Windsor?”
“A decision about what?”
“Ugh, we don’t have time for this! Chloe has to get ready for the party.” Midge flew to the wardrobe and started going through the racks of dresses.
“I can talk to Mrs. Windsor while you dress her.” Hazel glanced at me, arching a penciled-in eyebrow. “Is that acceptable to you?”
Hazel scared me, but I knew one thing: she was loyal to my husband. “You helped me when I needed it.” I was reminding her as much as myself about the night she helped me and Noah get off the island. “I’m listening.”
The maid nodded. “Midge and I were just discussing the fact that things have been very tumultuous for the family of late.”
“It’s true.” Midge held up a tangerine-colored dress and frowned at it. “A lot of crazy shit’s been going on.”
Hazel’s eyebrow arched impossibly higher. “That’s crude language, young lady. We do not speak like that in front of the family!”
“Oops.” Midge didn’t look too worried, though—she looked more concerned about the next dress she pulled, a forest-green one with a high neckline. “They want you in something demure tonight, but I swear to God, these are some of the ugliest dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Hazel rolled her eyes and turned back to me. “While Midge secures a dress, I’d like to ask for your help with something. It’s about Colby’s new…lady-friend.”
Midge snorted. “Calling her a lady’s a little much, don’t you think?”
“I think we can proceed without any more of your comments.”
Midge rolled her eyes and kept tearing through the dresses.
“We have some concerns about his new friend Tate. She’s only been here for a few days, but there have already been several incidents.” Hazel pursed her lips.
I sank down onto the bed. “Daphne mentioned something about the pool club.”
Hazel nodded. “The manager called here to complain that they’d been having loud…relations…in one of the cabanas.”
“Not to mention what they were doing on the beach this afternoon!” Midge added. “And in the woods! In broad daylight ! The elder Mr. Windsor just got arrested—we can’t have that sort of thing going on with the photographers still sneaking around. Olivia Jensen’s about to have a fit.”
“Olivia’s spoken to both Colby and Tate, but Colby doesn’t see a problem,” Hazel said. “The girl seems completely reckless. That’s why we wanted to speak with you.”
“That’s why you wanted to speak with her.” Midge pulled out a flowing yellow dress. “ I wanted to give her a break. She just got back. Things have been crazy.”
Hazel turned to me. “I did want to speak with you because I thought that, as the lady of the house, you might talk some sense into her.”
“Isn’t Daphne the lady of the house?” I asked.
Her nostrils flared. “The other Mrs. Windsor isn’t exactly a paradigm of reputable behavior.”
That was probably the truth. Daphne had cheated with Micheal Jones in public, out by the bonfire at the benefit dinner we’d hosted… “What can I do to help?”
“Talk to her,” Hazel said. “Explain that this is a difficult time for the family. Maybe say that you appreciate that she and Colby are enjoying each other but that they need to be more discreet about it.”
“She might think I don’t have much room to talk.” My cheeks heated, remembering the time Bryce and I had sex in a dressing room in Northeast Harbor.
“But you and Mr. Windsor are married. Being a newlywed’s different from being…”
“A flavor of the week.” Midge approached with the yellow dress and a pair of gold-toned sandals. She held the dress up against me, then nodded her approval. “You’ll look beautiful in this. And it’s demure.”
“It’s pretty,” I said.
She eyed my hair. “We need to deal with that before it dries more. Into the makeup chair, Mrs. Windsor.” She winked at Hazel. “You wanna say anything else?”
Hazel sighed. “Not particularly. But Mrs. Windsor, will you please update us? All of the staff feels strongly that this situation must be dealt with before the family has to endure more bad press.”
“Of course, Hazel. I’ll talk to her tonight—she might not listen, though.”
She nodded. “I appreciate it.” She clicked to the door, her spindly little legs carrying her quickly from the room.
“Sheesh, she’s a pain in the ass.” Midge stuffed me into the makeup chair and whipped out the blow dryer. “She doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“She is loyal to the family, though.”
“True, and I admire her for that.” Midge started brushing out my hair. “But I thought it was a big ask for us to come to you about this. You just got back.”
“I’m surprised Hazel asked me.” Actually, I was somewhat flattered. “I just don’t know if I can help.”
Midge nodded. “I think this girl’s real trouble. Chef caught her stuffing food and a couple of bottles of expensive wine into her bag. Like she was stealing, you know? He told her she could have whatever she wanted, but she acted super defensive about it.”
“Maybe she’s not used to being able to have nice things.” I could certainly relate to that. “But all the public…relations…is a problem. I can’t be having that around my brother. And Hazel’s right, we don’t need any more scandals now. I’ll try talking to her.”
In turn, Tate would probably threaten me again—or worse—but maybe I could talk some sense into her. If Colby was genuinely taken with her, maybe there could be a real future for them. Selfishly, I hoped not, but maybe Tate wasn’t as bad as she seemed.
“Enough about her—how are you ? How was the trip? Your skin is glowing, so I’m taking it as a good sign. That and all the hollering I heard coming from down the hall this afternoon.” She laughed.
“Ugh!” My cheeks burned. “Sorry about that.”
“Why, girl? I’m not! I’m so glad you’re back and that you and Mr. Windsor are happy again.
He’s impossible when you’re not around.
Chef said he didn’t eat once. Hazel said he barely slept.
He was snappy with the staff. He needs you, Chloe— we need you.
It’s been so crazy with the arrest and all.
Can you even believe it? Gene Windsor’s in prison .
I can’t picture him in there with the other inmates, you know what I mean? ”
“I can’t either,” I admitted. “I wonder what’s going to happen.”
Midge’s eyes grew wide as she fired up the blow dryer. “He might not come back.” That was all she could say as she started to dry my hair.
Over the roar of the dryer, I could say nothing in return.
But was it awful that I hoped she was right?