“Come in, come in, let’s go for a tour, shall we?”
“Who else is here?” Calvino asks as we step into an entry hall with marble floors and a chandelier that looks like it would fit in at a high-end jewelry shop in Paris. Paintings hang on the walls, plants burst from giant pots and planters, and light streams in from high windows. It’s like something from freaking Pinterest.
“Susi and Charlie are outside with Vince and Jason.” She gives Calvino a look. “Damon hasn’t shown his face here in a few days.”
“What happened?” Calvino sighs like this happens all the time.
“The usual. He got into an argument with Vince and now he’s going to hole up in that little shack of his and not speak to anyone for a month.”
“The shack she’s referring to is a five-million-dollar beach-front property,” Calvino says as he puts an arm across my shoulders. “Damon’s not exactly living in squalor.”
“Everywhere’s squalor compared to the Sandtrap,” Rella says, grinning huge. “Although I hate the name.”
I laugh a little and nudge Calvino in the ribs. “Does everyone hate the name?”
“Everyone,” he confirms. “But we’ll never change it. Family tradition and all that.”
Staff bustles around as Rella peels me away from Calvino and steers me through a dizzying series of rooms: a movie theater, an ocean-view office complete with a desk filled with computers like some investment banker lives there, a big gourmet kitchen where a nice young girl covered in tattoos and a head scarf is making lunch (“That’s Olive, the cook, she’s fucking amazing, you’ll love her”), down past a sitting room, a living room, a den, and up a back staircase to the second floor.
“I know it’s a bit much,” Rella says gesturing at an oil painting that’s probably worth more than I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It depicts a capsized boat burning beneath a midnight moon. “Calvino says you’re not from California originally? Don’t worry, pretty much nobody is.”
“West Virginia,” I say though I didn’t hear her actually ask. “Small town, used to be a coal-mining place. You know, lots of hills and trailers and such.”
“So that’s the accent.” She nods and smiles sweetly at me. “I can see why Calvino likes you.”
“What, because of my accent?”
“He’s got a thing for girls with accents. He was with this British chick that I think was related to the royal family for a bit, and then this like Norwegian princess, she was absolutely nuts though, and then this girl from Texas, her dad was an oil baron, real asshole, you know the type, red face and too fat and all that stuff? Anyway, here are the rooms—” And the tour continues, but I feel like I was kicked in the chest and I can barely breathe.
Calvino dated other women and Rella knew about them? Charlie said he never, ever brought girls home, but if his sister knows those girls then maybe Charlie was wrong? My head’s spinning, and I’m not sure why I feel this sudden surge of jealousy as I’m shown a string of beautiful rooms, one with nothing but a piano and other random instruments, another filled with art and painting materials, another strewn with cushions (“Susi jokes that this is the fuck den, which is gross because Mom and Dad used to spend a lot of time in here. I’m pretty sure they just watched TV”) and endless bedrooms. The whole place is like a museum, except it also smells like crisp ocean air and clean linen sheets, and it’s pretty much paradise.
Oil barons and royalty? How the hell am I supposed to compete with that? I’m a small-town girl from Nowhere, West Virginia, with nothing to my name but a messed-up past and a lot of self-loathing issues, and I’m supposed to be with a guy that’s used to royalty?
You’re not really with him, girlie, don’t forget it. Riley’s voice is in my head again, giving me the cold, hard truth. I need to remember that, because otherwise I’ll fall victim to this fantasy and forget that she’s right, I’m not really with Calvino, and I’m only here to do some digging.
Rella takes us back downstairs and out back. There’s a gorgeous bright blue pool with an outdoor cooking area, a patio with a big beige overhang, a stone fire pit, lots of fancy seating and lounge chairs, and several people sitting down next to the water. I recognize Vince and Charlie and Calvino, which means the others are Susi and Jason.
Susi stands and greets me, and Rella passes me off to her. Instantly, I’m assaulted by a perky little dirty-blonde girl with big eyes, a huge smile, and an amazing figure that I’m actually sort of jealous over. Jason looks like his brothers, tall and broad and muscular, but he’s a bit quieter and only gives me a smile and a nod as he sips from a glass of something brown.