Some of the girls took to running laps around the pool as their exercise, since we didn’t have a gym. I decided my exercise was having to walk up and down the stairs in the mansion every day to get from one floor to the other.
There was a heart-shaped card that came a little after two o’clock with Abigail and Heather’s names on it. Dante invited them both out to dinner.
Abigail read the card loudly and slowly to the group out by the pool, and then came into the house where I was teaching Genesis how to make homemade pecan pie, and read it again.
She wanted a reaction, and we didn’t give her one. Jen L. was already outside crying. Abigail wasn’t going to find anybody to be upset in here.
“I’m glad Dante invited me out alone.” Did she forget that he’d asked Heather too? “That’s what America wants to see. I suppose I’d better go and start getting ready for my date.”
“Yeah, I bet it takes a while to shed that skin.” Genesis tried to muffle her laugh, but Abi-fail glared at us as she walked slowly up the stairs, swaying her rear end for the camera’s benefit.
The camera guy’s shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh at what I’d said. I wanted to offer him some pie, but we weren’t allowed to talk to him.
And the person I should be giving pie to was Dante. I owed him an apology. I had sort of used him, and it wasn’t cool.
Carefully carrying a slice upstairs, I looked around corners, making certain the way was clear. I tiptoed past the bedrooms, in case anyone was taking a nap as a way to kill time. At the far end was the flight of stairs that led up to Dante’s room. His master suite took over the entire third floor. I was envious of all the space and that he had his own bathroom.
There was a rope barrier and a sign, but, not seeing any crew members or cameras, I decided to risk it. My heart beat quickly as I ducked under the rope. It was exciting sneaking around. More real-life Harriet the Spy.
I gently knocked on the door to the master suite. Too bad we didn’t have a code. Dante opened the door, gorgeous as ever, and I handed him the piece of pie.
“Sorry I was being insane last night. Burdette is making my life miserable.”
“Thank you, and I understand.” A big, heartfelt smile, and I knew all was forgiven. Another thing I liked about Dante. He never held grudges. Me, I could hold a grudge like nobody’s business.
He took the pie and stood to one side, offering to let me into his room. I didn’t think that was a great idea. Particularly given how very tempted I was to accept.
And what had happened the last time we were alone in his bedroom.
“I just wanted to tell you to have fun tonight, and to please be careful.”
He knit his eyebrows together. “Careful?”
“Yes, Timmy. Stay away from the well.”
Now he looked even more confused.
“That’s a Lassie reference. You can look it up later. Abigail is not to be trusted.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to go do, uh, a whole lot of nothing. So, see you later.”
“Thank you for the pie.”
He closed the door and I was glad that I’d finally had the chance to do my job. Now he knew Genesis = good, Abigail = bad.
What he chose to do with that information was entirely up to him.
Most of the girls had gathered in our room, where we were having a grownup slumber party. Painting each other’s nails, braiding hair, that sort of thing. I had suggested it as another chance for me to check out the girls and their personalities. Which so far seemed mostly nonexistent. Most of them were the type of women who’d always been pretty, and so they didn’t ever need to try very hard at school or, you know, at life.
“I think he has money. Do you think he has money?” Emily F. asked.
“He wears expensive suits. Maybe he does, or maybe the show is trying to trick us into thinking he’s rich and then we’ll find out at the end that he’s really poor so they’ll see if we loved him or his money,” Jessica T. offered.
I pressed my lips together. I would not smile. I also would not tell them that he was the kind of rich that would buy a new yacht because the old one got wet.