Page 43 of The Lost Heiress
“Yeah, I’m not big on the whole ‘subjugation of animals for people’s amusement’ thing,” Saoirse said.
“Fair enough,” Hugh said. “Guest list?”
“Two to three hundred,” Saoirse said.
“And, dare I ask, is His Dickship invited?”
Saoirse made a face. They had special names for her ex, Teddy Mountbatten. It was a game they played between just the two of them—who could come up with the most creative, derisive nickname. His Dickship. Lord Fuck-Face. Sir Ass-Wipe. They rarely used the same name twice. It amused them, and it helped to blunt Saoirse’s pain. Even thinking about Teddy was like pressing on a bruise, tender and sharp.
“Honestly, I haven’t decided,” Saoirse said. “On the one hand, I don’t want him to think I care enough about him tonotinvite him. On the other, if I do invite him, then I have to see him.”
“Yes, but think of it this way,” Hugh said. “How many of us get to design, down to the smallest detail, the first moment we see an ex after a breakup? There you’ll be, at your party, dressed to the nines, surrounded by all your friends, everyone there to celebrateyou. You’ll have to see him sometime. What better opportunity than this?”
Saoirse sighed. She set her sun foil down and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to think about it,” she said.
But it was all she could think about now: Teddy Mountbatten. As if she had summoned the specter of her hurt to haunt her again, had released it from that box in her chest where she had tried to keep it locked away.
Saoirse had first met Teddy Mountbatten at a yachting club in Newport the summer she turned fourteen. She would always remember the first time she saw him. He was beautiful: blond haired and blue eyed, with honeyed skin, stuck somewhere between a boy and a man. He was sixteen then, tall and slender, with dimples that dipped into both cheeks when he smiled, something that made Saoirse’s stomach drop when she first saw it. He was standing on the pier, one foot on the bottom rung of the railing as he looked out over the water, talking to a group of kids around his age. Saoirse noted the way they were all slightly turned toward him. He was wearing leather Top-Siders and a soft pink Lacoste shirt, his golden hair blowing in the wind.
Her friend Tessa Montgomery, whom she’d be staying with all summer, introduced her.
“This is my cousin Teddy,” Tessa said. “Teddy, this is Saoirse. She’ll be rooming with me at Choate in the fall.”
“A Choate girl, huh?” Teddy said.
“Teddy’s at Andover,” Tessa explained.
“My brothers went there,” Saoirse said. “Well, Theo didn’t make it past his freshman year. He got kicked out for detonating a cherry bomb in the faculty bathroom.”
Teddy’s eyes flashed at her, full of interest. “Theo Towers is your brother?” he asked.
She could see the gears turning in his mind, and she wanted to kick herself. If Theo Towers was her brother, then Teddy knew she was one ofthoseTowerses. Why couldn’t she ever just be Saoirse, first and foremost? Her family name trailed her like a shadow she could never step out of.
“Yes,” Saoirse said, “but my family is the least interesting thing about me.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Teddy said.
Saoirse quickly learned that back at Andover, Teddy Mountbatten had a girlfriend. She was seventeen and looked like Christie Brinkley, big chested and thin waisted, with wavy blond hair. Teddy kept a picture of her in his wallet. But that didn’t intimidate Saoirse. She liked a challenge.
On the beach, the girls spread out their towels in the sand and lay down to tan, theirCosmomagazines splayed out in front of them. When the boys started to divide themselves into teams for a game of touch football, Saoirse sprang up to join them. Teddy paired off to guard her.
“Don’t worry—I’ll go easy on you,” he said.
Saoirse rolled her eyes. Nothing put a fire in her belly more than a heavy dose of misogyny and being underestimated.
When the play broke, she feinted left and then went right, darting out of Teddy’s grasp. She sprinted down the beach, her arms open, calling for the ball. The quarterback tossed it to her, and she ran it all the way past the makeshift goalpost they had set up in the sand.
When Teddy caught up to her, he was winded. “You’re faster than you look,” he said.
Saoirse shoved the ball into his chest, hard. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll try and go easy on you.”
At the midpoint of the game, they took a break, and Saoirse retrieved her water bottle from her towel in the sand. Teddy sat down next to her.
“Thought we could talk strategy before the next half starts,” he said.
“You’re not on my team,” Saoirse said.
Teddy lowered his voice, leaned close to her so only she could hear. “I’m a double agent,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone.”
