Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“Please tell me you’ll be around the club often,” she says. “You can tell her yourself.” She’s prying.
I take a sip from my vodka soda. “I’m considering.” My phone buzzes in my pocket.
“If you’re in business, there are a lot of connections to be made here,” Val says. “I’m getting my MBA at Caufield, and I already have three guaranteed positions after I graduate.”
I pull out my phone, half paying attention to her now like I’m important shit. This wouldn’t be a good ploy to use on everyone, but she’s giving off “desperate to be liked,” which makes establishing my credibility and roping her in easier.
“I already have a job,” I tell her.
Heat radiates off her face. “Of course you do. I mean, you’re here.” She clears her throat and bows toward me. “What do you do, anyway?”
“I’m an investor,” I say, more disinterested as I glance at the texts on my phone.
206-555-1983: This is Oliver. I can’t get a hold of P. Are you with her?
Nova: Where the fuck is my sister?
Looks like I can’t keep delaying “the talk” I need to have with her brothers. They’ll just keep blowing up my phone. And I can’t blame them. I’d do the same thing trying to find Hailey.
“There’s a party this weekend,” Val tells me. I break away from my phone to give her my attention again. She lights up. “All the locals and some caufers—that’s what we call Caufield students—will be there. You should come.”
“I’ll check it out.”
She gives me the info, and I plug it into my phone.
I sit up, resting my feet on the ground. “So what do you call the people who aren’t locals or caufers?”
“Skunks.”
Again, I already hate it here. But honestly, I hate it everywhere.
I lift my brows and grin in the sunlight. “Creative.”
She laughs. “If you do move here, you’ll be a local before you know it. No need to worry.”
“I’m not worried. You can call me a skunk, Val.” I slip my phone in my pocket again. “It doesn’t mean I am one.” I finish off my vodka soda and stand. “I’m going to have lunch in the dining room. Join me?”
I could pick her brain more about who’s who here.
She smiles. “I’d like that, actually. Let me change out of my suit first, and I’ll meet you there.”
Collecting people wasn’t this easy when I was younger. Teenage Rocky would work twice as hard to reach the same outcome. It had less to do with my skills and everything to do with my age. The older I am, the more people believe the bullshit I sell.
Twenty-five is still young enough to elicit doubt that can ruin a job, but with a five-o’clock shadow and routine trips to the gym, I do whatever I can to be nondescript in age. Passing for thirtysomething without question or hesitation.
Valentina doesn’t question my age.
She doesn’t question my status.
I’ve pocketed her for the future. I can’t tell what use she’ll be, but within a matter of minutes, she’s bought into the version of myself I’m selling in Victoria. And that alone is priceless.
I leave the pool area with a natural, self-important gait that Phoebe would mock outside of a con. And to be clear, this is how I always fucking walk. Like I’ve been where my feet are landing a hundred times already, even if it’s the first time they’ve touched this part of the earth.
When I head to the locker rooms, I hate that I’m thinking about her.
I should be thinking about Val and the social hierarchy in this town. Things that’ll protect my sister and Phoebe if shit blows up.
As I shrug on my sports jacket, a familiar voice suddenly catches my ear.
“You’re not selling her horse,” Jake whispers hurriedly. “She’s only been gone a year, Mom. You can’t just erase everything she loved.”
Desperation.
It’s an emotion easily preyed upon.
A row of mahogany lockers blocks Jake Waterford from view. Or rather—Jake Koning Waterford. A “fun” fact I discovered this morning on a thorough search into the club. Jake is wealthy and emotionally unhinged from his sister’s death.
He’s a great mark.
But he’s also my sister’s landlord, and that muddies the so-called well enough for me.
For our parents, it wouldn’t matter. They’d swim, drink, and frolic in polluted waters, and they’d convince you it’s a natural, healthy spring. That it’s what’s best for you.
And you’d believe them.
Shit, if they were here, Jakey-poo would already be strung up on a dartboard. He’s lucky they’re too invested in Seattle and he won’t become the target.
Smooth things over with Jake.
It’s on my to-do list. At the bottom, but it’s on there.
I gently close the locker and slip into view.
Jake’s eyes flash with shock, then annoyance. “I have to go, Mom. Please don’t do anything until I get there.” He ends the call and shakes his head in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing here?”