Page 139 of Slumming It
Both photos had been taken from the rear, but wheremyphoto made me look like a hillbilly street walker, Cassandra's photo madeherlook like every man's fantasy.
Her legs had been long and perfect, and she'd been peeking over her shoulder with a come-hither smile accented by full pouty lips and perfect windblown hair cascading around her gorgeous face.
In contrast,mywindblown hair looked like a tangled mess because I'd been dealing with actual wind. Plus, there had been nothing come-hither aboutmyexpression, which had made me look like a psycho on the loose.
And then, there was the matter of the wedgie.This had resulted in a whole bunch of new nicknames like Ass Cracker and others so offensive they'd made Reese curse up a storm even as I'd tried to laugh it off.
Regardless, the whole wedgie thing was enough to make me long for the days of simply being called a trailer waitress – which was doubly crazy because that particular nickname no longer applied.
Not only was I not living in a trailer, to my surprise, Freddie had actually agreed to my reluctant request, giving me the time off from waitressing without a single complaint.
At first, I'd been shocked beyond belief, but then I'd decided it must've had something to do with all of that initial publicity. After all, a temporary sales boost might be nice, but not nearly as nice as avoiding trouble on the night shift, which had its share of problems already.
Oh sure, I realized I would have to go back to waitressing eventually, but for now, the temporary reprieve was feeling like a dream come true – except for nightmares like this.
Into the phone, I said, "Oh Mom, it's nice that you think so, but I'm pretty sure you're in the minority on that one."
"I am not," she said. "I showed the photos to everyone at the hotel, and we all agree thatyouwore it better." Her tone became soothing. "And honey, we all get wedgies sometimes."
Good Lord.
Just then, Reese emerged from the second bedroom of the suite, which had been converted to a temporary office. I gave him a smile and a little wave as I mouthed, "It's my mom."
For the first time in weeks, he didn’t smile back. Instead, he turned away and disappeared back into his office, leaving me to talk on my own.
I didn't get it, unless…maybe he was just giving me some privacy?
The time was just past noon, and we didn't generally leave the suite until after one o'clock, when he usually finished conducting his business by remote. He claimed he could work from anywhere, but even now, I wasn't quite convinced.
I mean, he would have to return to the main office eventually, right?
Together, he and I had spent much of the past few weeks looking for the perfect plot of land to build his summer home, and we'd fallen into a nice, comfy routine – with him working for most of the mornings and us spending most afternoons in search of the ideal site.
In the beginning, I had figured this would involve lots of meetings with realtors and property owners – and maybe the occasional builder, too.
But instead, it involved spending a lot of time in the Ferrari and occasionally wandering on foot across various plots of land within an hour radius of Driftwood Cove.
Turns out, there was quite a bit to look at, which was actually fine by me. Despite what my sister thought, I wasn't naïve.
I realized that my relationship with Reese wouldn't last forever. Considering the vast gulf between us, how could it? But for now, every hour spent with him felt like a treasure to be cherished, and I was determined to savor every moment, even in spite of occasional blips like the infamous wedgie photo.
To my mom, I replied, "Even if everyonedoesget wedgies, they're not usually seen by a million people."
"Actually, it'stwomillion now."
I winced. "Seriously?"
"Well, 2.1 million if you want specifics – at least for the one that shows you and Cassandra side-by-side. That's the one that's really taken off."
Of course it was.
It was definitely time to change the subject. "Hey, have you talked to Vivian?"
"Sure, last week," she said. "And I called her two days ago, but she hasn't called me back. I think he's keeping her really busy."
She was referring, of course, to Cameron Slade who had put Vivian in charge of something called Events Management, which sounded like a wild ride.
On the phone, my mom was still talking. "But at least she sent photos."
