Page 95 of Swan Song

“Eddie is from New Bedford,” Addison says. “He’s very proud of that.”

“He’s redundant,” Bull says. “You and I could do this deal without him.”

“We could…” Addison says. “But we signed a contract.”

“There’s a clause at the end, didn’t you see it? The terms of the contract can be changed right up until the purchase and sale is signed and I write the first check.”

“What?” Addison says. “I did not see that.”

Eddie didn’t see the clause either. He holds his breath, wondering what he can do. Bursting through the hedge and knocking Bull to the ground comes to mind, but that won’t help his cause.

“Just think about it,” Bull says. “Fifty-fifty.”

“I couldn’t do that to Eddie,” Addison says, and Eddie feels himself misting up. Addison has his back.

“Maybe you could, though,” Bull says.

When Sharon pops out of the powder room—she’s wearing a Lilly bikini, but it’s not vintage and it doesn’t match her outfit (advantage Leslee)—Romeo is waiting for her.

“Sharon,” he says.

“Romeo.”

They stare at each other. Romeo is wearing the same board shorts he wore when they went to Whale Island, which makes Sharon’s heart ache. Who’s Golden Girl? You are. She wants to jump into his arms, but he’s got his tough-guy stance, the one he uses when some ass-clown from the city demands to skip the standby line in the height of summer so he can get his Tesla off the island.

Does he want to talk? Is he expecting an apology? Because Sharon has called him half a dozen times and sent an embarrassing number of texts, all of which went unanswered. If anything, it’s now Sharon who deserves an apology.

At that second, Benton appears; he’s bare-chested and in a pair of Billabong board shorts. “Ready to tub?” he asks.

Sharon holds Romeo’s gaze one moment longer. Is he going to fight for her? No—though he stabs Benton with the daggers in his eyes.

“Sure,” Sharon says. “Let’s go.”

“It’s an eight-sided hot tub, not an eight-person hot tub,” Leslee says. “Come on, we can all fit. Coco, would you please make sure everyone has a fresh drink and then pass the brownie cups one more time?”

The Chief takes the last brownie cup and winks at Coco. “Don’t tell Andrea.”

“Everyone climb in,” Leslee says. She shows people where she wants them; she’s probably had the seating chart planned for days: Leslee, the Chief, Blond Sharon, Benton Coe, Grace, Romeo, Busy, Addison, Phoebe, and Eddie. Bull isn’t getting in.

“Hot tubs aren’t for big blokes like me,” he says. “I’m sweating my balls off just looking at you all.”

“I’d like to sit next to my wife,” Eddie says. “Benton, what if you and I traded spots?”

“Spouses are always separated,” Leslee says. “Keeps things interesting.”

“Addison is next to his wife,” Eddie says.

“Eddie,” Grace says. “Stop being weird.”

Is he being weird? Is it inelegant that he doesn’t want his wife sitting next to the man she had an affair with nine summers ago? He doesn’t want things to get “interesting.” The hot tub is bubbling and steaming like a witch’s cauldron—and it’s pretty clear who the witch is.

Sharon leans her head back against the edge. “This is heavenly, Leslee.”

There are murmurs of agreement, but not from Eddie. He would like to get out of this people soup and talk some sense into Bull.

Suddenly Romeo says, “Hands, Coe! Let me see your hands!”

Benton laughs and raises his palms. “Here they are.”

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