Page 145 of Charming Like Us
I shoot Beckett a quick look that Oscar would nail-gun in his brain.Leave Joana Oliveira alone.
She jogs over, her silver dress hiked up with one hand, and her curls bounce with each footfall to the pond. She’s wearing a pair of Vans instead of heels, and she makes a concerted effort to avoid Charlie and Beckett as she stops in front of me. “Have you seen my brother?”
I shift to block Beckett. “Which one?” I ask.
“The one you’re dating,” she says. “Obviously.”
“Hole three.”
She’s about to leave, when Beckett glides around me and says, “Hi to you, too.”
Joana stiffens and then turns her gaze on him.
I tense.
FYI: I have never been in this position. This is my boyfriend’s baby sister. Yes,babysister. I have seen her name in Oscar’s phone and heard him call her “baby sis” way too many times. I know he considers her almost like a daughter, and the fact that he hates—no, heloathes—the idea of Beckett and Joana together has my pulse on an adrenaline rush.
When it comes to these families, I’m used to not intervening on anyone’s behalf. I let security take sides.
I’m a filmmaker. I watch. I record. I stay back and let things play out. Oscar’s the one who’d fling himself between them.
My camera is off, and ethically, I have to keep it off for Beckett.
Instead of being Oscar’s fill-in, I decide to do what I’d do if his sister were my brother. I observe like an adult chaperone at a high school dance. Threatening.
And ready to intervene when necessary.
Joana starts looking around Beckett, stepping close like she’s trying to find something. She pretends to search behind him.
Beckett frowns and gracefully one-eighties to face her. “What are you doing?” He has that iconicwhat the fuckface that has been meme’d to death on Reddit.
“Oh sorry,” Joana says like she’s not sorry at all. “I was looking for the mattress that’s always attached to your back.”
Charlie chokes on his champagne.
I stop breathing.
Beckett’s brows rise at Joana. He looks her up and down. “I’d say the same for you, but you seem like the kind of girl who loves getting pounded from behind.”
She snorts. “Classy.”
What the fuck am I watching?
He raises his glass. “Toujours.”Always.
She lifts the edge of her dress, so she can jog again. “With that”—she looks to me—“I’m going to go find my brother.”
“Good idea,” I agree.
I probably shouldn’t be a chaperone at a high school dance ever. Oscar is going to flip. I turn to Beckett. “Don’t go there again,” I say. “All of SFO have warned you. So now I’m warning you.”
“She instigated that one.” Beckett grabs a pastry off a server’s tray, a smile toying at his lips. “Plus, she basically called me a slut.”
Charlie says something in quick French to Beckett, and my walkie crackles, “Ethan for Jack.”
I hit the button. “What’s up?”
“We need you on Jane in the clubhouse.”
