Page 49 of Privilege
Yeah, brother. You’re off the hook.
I walk straight into the ocean fully clothed and disappear below the surface.I love you, Rich.
I fly back across the Atlantic the next morning.
Rich graduated alone.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cara
There are arms andlegs everywhere. Extracting myself from the pile of body parts proves challenging, but I finally manage to detangle.
God, they’re beautiful together, Rich’s thickly corded arm tossed casually across Dane’s lap, his head resting on his brother’s thigh.
Dane’s mouth is slightly open, head against the back of the couch, broad chest rising and falling. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.
I tiptoe out of the room and onto the deck. We’ve pulled back into the marina, and the sun is setting on the sea of boats. Even the smallest one is probably worth more than my dad’s house.
I can’t imagine living like this. Wandering onto a yacht and assuming it’s been stocked and staffed, telling a Captain to take us out on the water for the day. I noticed that Dane spent some extra time speaking with him; the Captain laughed and clapped Dane on the shoulder, clearly quite familiar with each other.
This is simply ‘something to do’, to them.
It’s different at school. Rich and I are always so busy with class, and his sports, and my job, that I don’t notice the money all that much. Sure, his apartment is way nicer. And he drives a Lexus. And he definitely isn’t checking his debit card balance before he buys gas. But wealth has never clung to him out there the way it does here. It’s a noxious gas amongst these people, threatening to suffocate them all.
But they both left. Dane went abroad, Rich came to California… They got away. Sort of.Mostly.
Make it up to me later.That’s what Dane wrote on the ridiculously overpriced dress he gave me, my first night here.
I’ve earned it,I think, grinning to myself.
I wander down to a lower level of the boat and am surprised to find Arnold lounging in a seating area in the bow. I’m a bit exposed, naked beneath my wrap, but fuck it—is it even a yacht trip is someone doesn’t see a nipple?Or suck on them?
“Hi,” I say to him, taking a seat. I pull the wrap around myself a little tighter.
He nods his head at me, face unreadable. “Miss Cara,” he says.
I fidget a little. “Um… is everything alright Arnold?”
His lips twitch. “I thought perhaps a driver might be in order,” he says gently.
“I mean, good thinking? We appreciate you Arnold. But uh, I think we’re spending the night on the boat?”
Arnold frowns. “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he says. “Mrs. van der Beer is hosting an event this evening at Blackstone. Mr. van der Beer’s presence is required.”
“Rich won’t want to go,” I say, suddenly exhausted. “I’ve lost count of how many of these we’ve had to attend.”
Arnold says nothing, and I know that it won’t be up for debate. Rich will do what he’s asked and suffer in silence. Shake all the rich-people hands, say all the rich-people things, do all the rich-people stuff while they take a brief vacation from dominating the universe to convene on the New York coast and gloat. While I’m trying to figure out how many shifts to work to make up my tuition shortfall, they’re tossing six figure bets on horses.
I sigh, knowing there’s no point in arguing. It’s not Arnold’s fault. “What time do we need to be there?”
Arnold looks at his watch. “I suggest, Miss Cara, that you wake them up now.”
I stand, irritated, and throw up my hands. “And what’s the theme for this one? Monte Carlo night? White party? Hollywood glam?”
Arnold flushes. “The theme is The Great Gatsby, Miss Cara.”
Of fucking course it is.
