“Damn, it’s hot!” I tell Vanessa as we lounge beside the pool at my father’s house in the Hamptons.

“Yeah, but I need all the UV I can get. Have you seen my pasty white skin?” She glances down her body and snaps the spaghetti straps of her teal bikini top. “Pathetic.”

“It’s not like I’m in better shape.”

Vanessa reaches down for her beach bag from her spot and checks inside. “I should have brought over Mom’s tanning reflector for our faces at least.”

“Do those things even work?”

She leans back on the lounge chair and closes her eyes as she centers her head on the backrest for more even sun exposure. “No idea, but Mom swears by it. Want me to go get it?”

“Nah. Bring it tomorrow, if you’re still coming by. Oh, and we can dress for that get together at Club Zen.”

“Are we still going?” she asks. “It’ll probably be a ghost town, now that most of our friends have jobs in the city.”

“True. Yes. We may as well go. We can always leave if it’s dead.”

“Dylan’s around. He and Caleb figured they’d schmooze with some of their potential clients while they’re vacationing in the Hamptons too. They’ll probably have more down time and be more relaxed than in the city.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah. So that means Jace and Jackson will be around too,” she says playfully.

“How’s Jackson doing these days?” I ask, ignoring her mention of Jace’s name.

“He’s turned the corner with that whole irresponsible, grungy, shit-disturbing, drug-experimenting phase.”

“That’s great! I’m really glad to hear that. I wonder what led up to the change,” I ponder aloud. “Maybe one of those ah-hah moments, because I didn’t hear a peep about him going into rehab or anything.”

“Oh, it was one of those weird flukes. At least that’s what Dylan said. Apparently, Jackson came home high as a kite one night when Mr. Knight was home. Jackson was so wasted, he passed out for an entire road trip to some place in Kentucky that his dad drove him to. Anyway, three days later, for what Dylan calls the ‘fishing trip from hell’, Jackson ended up saving his dad from an overturned boat out in the middle of nowhere. That was it, I hear.”

“Fear of loss always seems to win out,” I remark.

“I guess saving his dad reminded him that he hadn’t lost everything, so he didn’t have to keep going around like some grungy, grieving pothead anymore. Anyway, Jackson’s working his ass off at Knights Capital now.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for him.”

“You know, I did just mention that Jace is around,” she pushes the issue.

I turn over to start tanning my back and look over at her with a grimace. “Why would I care? I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’m done crushing over him.”

“Maybe you’re done, but from what I’ve been hearing, he’s not done with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugs. “No idea. I’m not around the guys enough to get all the juicy details. I just hear the odd whispers here and there. But don’t worry. If he shows up, I’ll make sure you behave.”

“I don’t have a choice. My dad’s doing a lot more business at Knight’s Capital. I won’t risk fucking that up by getting wasted or doing something stupid anywhere near a single member of the Knight family. Or Dylan. Or Caleb.”

“Add Foster to that list.”

“What? He works there too?”

She nods. “Yup.”

“Fuck.”

“Why would that matter? It’s not like they’re your close friends.”

“It just means I can’t let loose around them. At least not while my father finally has a chance to see what it’s like to do business above board for a change.”

“They won’t give a crap. Those guys used to party harder than anyone I know. A couple of them probably still do. Trust me, there’s nothing you could do that they haven’t already done.”

“You’re probably right, but just to be safe, I’ll take it easy if we do end up going to Club Zen.”

“And what does taking it easy entail? Just so I can support you.”

“Two-drink maximum, no dancing on tables, no hard drugs. Cigarettes and weed are probably okay, though.”

She lets out a loud laugh. “I’ve never seen you smoke or take drugs. Well, not since that one party in high school.”

“Right, and I’ll be sure to stay away tonight at Club Zen too. But forget about me for a minute. What about you and that guy?”

“What guy?”

“I don’t remember his name. Maybe Austin or Dustin or something? Didn’t you go on a date or something?”

“Aww, hell no. I don’t even want to repeat his name. That night turned into a date from hell, with no chance of an encore, unless I’m looking to get myself a criminal record for assault and battery.”

“That bad, huh?”

“And then some. First of all, he shows up to our dinner date an hour late, and half drunk. Then he spends the night talking about himself and completely ignoring me. The arrogant prick screamed at the wait staff and complained about the food, which he sent back to the chef twice, I should mention. And after all that, we go to some new dance club in Soho, and can you guess what that jackass did?”

“I don’t think I can guess. Just tell me.”

“He hit on every female in our section of the dance floor. Every fucking female except me. Can you believe that asshole? I grabbed my purse and got the hell out of there when he started grinding on the fourth or fifth one.”

I flip over to tan the front of my body again. None of it surprises me because, well, it’s Vanessa. She serial dates like no one I’ve ever known before. There’s bound to be some nightmare stories. “I’m burning up. Want a refill of iced tea?”

Vanessa forgets all about her date from hell too. She smiles and sits up as I get to my feet. “We should probably take a break from this before we go lobster red like last year.”

“You’re probably right. How does my back look?” I ask, turning around for her to check.

“You need a much higher SPF for next time. Your shoulders are getting pretty red. Cherry red,” she adds with a chuckle.

I twist my neck halfway to the porch sliding doors to try and see for myself. “Let’s get inside. I need to see it.”

“Don’t get all burnt up the first time, hun. You’ll end up looking like those overbaked perpetual tanning ladies. The only thing you’re missing now is the big hair and tons of mascara,” she jokes, following me inside to the kitchen.

“It’s not so bad,” I tell her.

“I don’t know if I can say I agree. If you keep this up, by the time you get back to Manhattan, we’ll need an intervention for your face.”

“Hush. Don’t be mean.”

Vanessa folds her arms and looks outside toward the pool. “What if we hosted a party here?”

“What? Why?”

“Would be nice to do something small, quaint, like the complete opposite of Club Zen. A dinner party.”

“I don’t know, hun. Dad won’t care, but are you really in the mood to organize it?”

She laughs and takes a seat at the kitchen table. “That’s what caterers and event planners are for.”

I give her a sideways glance. “You’re starting to sound like one of those meddling daytime soap opera busybodies. Or those socialite friends of our parents who can’t get enough of the fake shit.”

“Like Peggy? Or is it Kiki now?”

I don’t answer her because I can already see the party planning cogs turning as Vanessa stares at the pool, probably to figure out her guest list, or the party décor theme, or something just as unappealing.

I pick up my phone from the counter. “You’re more than welcome to set something up. Just promise me that all the planning will be one hundred percent on you. Meaning leave me out of it.”

“That I can manage,” she says, checking the screen on her own phone.

I can see in her eyes that she’s already loving the idea. It’ll probably all be set up by tonight, because with Vanessa, there’s no time like the present.

Her phone rings as she places it back on the countertop. She snatches it up to check the number, and goes all goo-goo eyes. “Uh, I need to take this.”

“Who is it?”

“The guy whose name I won’t mention,” she giggles.

“The same guy you were just talking about? The one who went all downtown grabby on every girl at that club except you?”

“Uh, yes, but maybe he has some redeeming qualities. After all, he’s phoning me. Give me a second, I’ll find out.”

Vanessa leaves, disappearing into a room down the hall to take the call alone. I’m still looking at the utter lack of activity on my own phone and sipping on lemonade when she emerges from some other part of the house five minutes later. “Hey, uh, will you be okay if we skip out on Club Zen, and on your dinner party idea?”

“The dinner party was your idea, Vanessa, and yes, I don’t mind at all. Let me guess. You’re going on a date with nameless grabby dude?”

Her eyebrows raise high up her forehead. “Kind of. He wants to make it up to me. Thanks for understanding! Crap. I need a dress for this. Feel like a quick shopping trip?”

I shake my head because I don’t do shopping trips with Vanessa anymore. Not unless I’m in the mood for five to seven hours of combing all the stores, only to go back to the first dress she finds at the first store. It happens. Every. Single. Time. “Um, you go on and have fun, girlie! Let me know how it goes with your date!”

She gets her bags and starts walking to the main floor powder room to change. “Only if you’re sure!”

Hell yes, I’m sure.

I shake my head as she skips off, but at least she’ll have some stories to tell her grandkids. All I’ll have is one story about that one time I gave it up for the man I thought was my soulmate. But with my luck, I’ll end up a crochet-knitting spinster. With no hookups, no boyfriend, no husband, and no kids, therefore no grandkids.