Page 59 of Dr. Fellow

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One hour, and one hundred iPhone pictures of the girls later, the entire crew gathered at the massive marble dining table in our penthouse as a private chef served us a six-course meal. Rather than gawking, I decided to embrace my rich girl era and pretend like I belong here.

More caviar? Obviously.

Bottomless Dom Perignon? Keep pouring, baby.

This is the kind of life I could get used to.

Even though we still have no idea what the plan is, Claire gave us guidance on what to pack each day. Tonight all of the girls were required to wear short black dresses while Cass wore white. I have no idea what she told the guys but they’re dressed almost identically, all wearing dark slacks and a white button down. If someone had their drunk goggles on, we might be mistaken for a group of dominoes.

“You’re part of the dead parents club too, right?” Claire asks as we finish off the dessert course.

The question almost makes me spit out my Baked Alaska, and I look up from my plate to see her staring directly at Walker. She’s already super tipsy from the champagne that’s been flowing all evening—if there’s one thing Claire Winters can’t handle other than social cues, it’s her alcohol.

Caroline’s ocean-blue eyes widen in horror. She looks to her brother for backup, but he’s deep in conversation with Beau and Cassidy across the table.

“You can’t just ask people that,” she scolds, tucking her straightened dark hair behind her ear like she’s uncomfortable.

“What?” Claire shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not rude if it’s true.”

Walker’s lips twitch with amusement. “And how do you know it’s true?”

She giggles and narrows her eyes on me. “Someone spilled the beans.”

I shoot daggers at her, feeling a nervous flush creep over my cheeks.

I know I said that I love my friend, but I’m very close to wringing her long, skinny neck.

She was complaining about being an orphan tonight, so I casually mentioned that she should talk to Walker about it, not thinking anything of it. But now I immediately recognize my mistake and am further validated in my decision not to tell her about our little arrangement—she would be incorrigible.

“Did they now?” Walker asks from my periphery, his tone husky and low. “So you’ve been talking about me, little devil?”

I swallow, glancing over at him briefly. “Only the worst things.”

His laugh rumbles through my body and settles directly between my legs, causing me to shift in my velvet chair.

“Ahem.” I signal the rest of the group because I need something to distract me from Walker’s unrelenting focus. “Claire was just about to tell us what the plan for the weekend is.”

The diversion works like a charm because Claire perks up, waving off our conversation with an airy flick of her hand, her tipsy smile wide. She’s been itching to divulge the full schedule all day, but insisted that we wait until after dinner for some reason.

“Right,” she exclaims, nearly knocking over her flute of champagne. “I figured tonight everyone could decide between a chill evening in, or the hotel casino since tomorrow is a packed day. Starting at eight, we have breakfast in our suite followed by a group exercise class at nine. We need to release all of the toxins before the afternoon pool party.”

I glance over at Cass to gauge her reaction to the plan. She’s sitting on her fiancé’s lap, looking incredibly content as he rubs her back—I honestly don’t know if she’s even listening.

“After the pool,” Claire continues, leaning forward like she’s sharing a secret, even though she’s addressing the whole group. Her wild curls sweep over her face, partially obscuring the massive grin on her face. “We have pizza being delivered for dinner to help us sober up while we get ready for a special VIP show at nine. Then we’re just going to bar hop and see where the night takes us.”

“Hell yeah,” Beau whoops, draining the rest of his champagne in one glug. “I hope it takes us to pound town.”

Lines of tension bracket Parker’s mouth, and he looks like he’s debating wringing his friend’s neck. “I’m going to take you to pound town if you keep talking about the shit you do with my sister.”

“Which sister?” Beau winks, deciding to dig his grave a little deeper.

“Not Carol. She has a boyfriend. Don’t you baby sister?”

Claire must have conspired with Beau to get under everyone’s skin tonight because they’re making their way around the table at a rapid-fire pace.

Caroline’s porcelain face turns even more pale.“Claire. Stop.”

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