Chapter 3 #2
“First things first, we need to plan the schedule for the weekend. Which events on which days in which order.” Bunny swung the notebook around to show them a Sharpie-drawn beach diagram that, even upside-down from where Maddy was standing, was unsettlingly precise.
“Then we’ll need to take inventory of what’s in storage and what needs replacing—the tug-of-war rope was looking positively frayed last year, it’s a wonder no one was maimed—”
Maddy held up a hand. “I’m sorry. Did you say weekend?”
It was a single-day event, as far as Maddy remembered.
While the rest of the island was attending the Fourth of July parade and festival on Orange Avenue, the Sterlings, St. Claire’s, Reyes’, and Howell’s took over the strip of beach a half block away from Maddy’s childhood home for a day of games, BBQ, family rivalry, and bragging rights for the winning family.
“Of course, darling!” Bunny set down her pen.
“One day simply wasn’t enough. The Cup is a full weekend extravaganza now!
” She counted off on her fingers. “Daily themes, new games, mixed teams, an opening ceremony with the lighting of the torch, our own fireworks display—and for the grand finale on Sunday—” A reverent hush, both hands lifting.
“—an awards ceremony. With yours truly as the Master of Ceremonies and Official Judge, of course.” Bunny framed her own face with both hands, presenting herself like the main prize.
Jesus Christ, what did she get herself into? Maddy glanced at Aspen, who simply shrugged. She shouldn’t be surprised. She really shouldn’t.
However, despite the ridiculousness of the event, Maddy could produce a three-day, twenty-five-person beach Olympics in her sleep. She might even, if she let herself, mildly enjoy it.
“Now, where was I?” Bunny picked the pen back up and moved it down the page. “Oh yes. We need to send personalized invitations to all the families—the usual group, though we should confirm the Reyes’ headcount, because Noa mentioned she might be bringing someone—”
“Is Noa actually dating someone?” Aspen cut in, her surprise evident.
A flurry of questions Maddy did not have permission to ask about Noa’s dating life flooded her mind, but she clamped down on them before any could escape.
“Focus, dear.” Bunny tapped the notebook twice with her nail and brought the pen back to the page in tidy checkmarks.
“Then of course there’s the potluck themes and assignments.
We’ll need to decide on each day’s cuisine, and then coordinate with everyone who’s RSVP’d to start thinking about their contributions, and let us know by June twenty-fourth at the latest—” the nail came down firmly on the date “—so that I can finalize the menu cards.”
Maddy tensed. The enjoyment she felt moments ago was replaced with dread.
She thought of Diane— Jake’s mom, who had curled and pinned Maddy’s hair before two homecomings and prom and volunteered to pick them up from Tommy Castillo’s afterparties so they didn’t drink and drive.
She thought of Carmen—Noa’s mom, who had set a place for her at the Reyes family dinner every Wednesday and always asked her if she was eating enough.
Two women whom she hadn’t spoken to in fifteen years and had ghosted their children when she left, and she was just supposed to call them up and say hi, it’s Maddy Sterling.
Yes, I know it’s been a while. Sorry I disappeared and broke your child’s heart.
The Sterling Cup is coming up, could you bring the guacamole?
Aspen cleared her throat. “I can handle the invitations and potluck assignments. Since I already have everyone’s contact info and all.” She flicked her gaze to Maddy. “That cool with you?”
For once, she welcomed the sound of Aspen St. Claire’s voice. Her white-knuckled grip on the counter released.
Bunny looked to Maddy for verbal confirmation.
Maddy crossed her arms. “Fine.” She would absolutely not let Aspen think she was doing her any favors.
“Okay.” Bunny scribbled in her notebook. “Maddy, honey, you can handle the schedule and inventory then?” She peered at Maddy over her glasses again.
“Yes. Fine.” The relief flooded through her. Crisis averted.
“Fabulous!” Bunny was back to scribbling. “I’ll plan the fireworks show, and I’ll need the two of you to go pick them up. I have six different suppliers outside of the city, and I couldn’t possibly spend all day in a car in my condition to pick them up myself.”
Maddy froze.
The two of you. As in her and Aspen. Together. In a car. Alone. Driving around San Diego. Hours of close proximity with nothing between them but upholstery and whatever was playing on the radio, and the very real possibility that Maddy would throw Aspen out of the car before they hit the freeway.
Aspen’s gaze found Maddy’s across the kitchen island. Aspen was so still that Maddy wasn’t even sure she was breathing. Then she realized that she had been holding her own breath too. Maddy’s eyes shifted to Bunny and back to Aspen.
Saying no would be a sign of weakness, like she couldn’t handle Aspen St. Claire. And she’d be damned if she gave Aspen any more ammunition.
Maddy exhaled and lifted her chin. “Fine.”
In her periphery, she saw Aspen’s chest inflate as she finally took a breath.
“Wonderful.” Bunny clapped, the feathered cuffs rustling, and CoCo rearranged with an audible huff. “Aspen knows where everything is—the storage unit, the game equipment. Maddy, honey, give Aspen your phone number.” She snapped her fingers and pointed at her phone.
They both went still again.
Bunny’s expression was radiant innocence. “For Cup logistics.” Bunny fluttered a hand. “Come on, chop chop.”
Aspen slowly pulled her phone from the side pocket of her leggings and held it out toward Maddy with a sheepish smile. “It will make it easier to coordinate.”
Maddy hesitated. She knew a Bunny trap when she saw one. Especially after the trap she fell into less than twenty-four hours ago. She would not be so easily tricked twice.
On the other hand, Aspen was right—not that she would ever say those words out loud—it would make it easier to coordinate.
This was a production. A job. Maddy was nothing if not efficient and professional.
She had plenty of experience handling and communicating with difficult people that she would never willingly spend time with, for the sake of the production.
Demanding executives. Emotional contestants.
Incompetent crew members. Overwhelmed vendors.
Seventy percent of Maddy’s job as Supervising Field Producer was putting out fires and effectively managing crises so that when the cameras rolled, everything was flawless.
She had been managing the Bunny crisis her entire life.
And as for the Aspen aspect of it all, well, that was more a mild inconvenience and annoyance than anything.
Aspen was nothing more than a mosquito bite on her ass that Maddy would ignore as much as possible until it scabbed over and went away.
It was facing one person from her past versus facing twenty-five. Aspen was her ticket out of having to personally communicate with the entire Sterling Cup roster for the next five weeks. She could handle that, as much as she hated the idea of giving Bunny exactly what she wanted.
She looked at Bunny, who had zero poker face, then at Aspen—who, to her credit, did not appear to have been in on Bunny’s scheme if her wide eyes and hard swallow were any indication as she stared at Maddy with the phone held out between them.
Maddy reluctantly took the phone and made sure their fingers didn’t touch during the exchange, lifting the phone from Aspen’s palm with her fingertips. Maddy entered her number and handed the phone back without meeting Aspen’s eye.
Aspen tapped at it for two seconds. And Maddy’s phone lit up with a notification on the counter next to her mug.
Unknown Number: This is Aspen. For Cup stuff.
With a fucking wink emoji.
She glanced at the screen for one second. Then turned back to her mother and pushed off the counter with her hip. “Are we done here?”
Bunny watched the exchange with a satisfied smirk and gave a small, generous wave of her ringed fingers. “Sure, dear.”
Maddy swiped her phone off the counter and walked out, the in-person version of leaving Aspen on read.