Page 7

seven

Alice

Hours. I’m going to have several hours to myself while Farrah is on her date with Dalton. After the day I’ve had, I kind of want to spend it in bed staring at the ceiling and not thinking about anything. But this is too precious an opportunity to waste.

There was a sand volleyball game last night, and Dalton and JP dominated. They scored almost every point their team got, Dalton edging JP out with two more points. That meant Dalton got first choice for a one-on-one date tonight, and he picked Farrah.

After seeing his display of aggressive athleticism, not to mention his washboard abs, she was excited about the date. She wore a red dress cut so low it leaves nothing to the imagination, and she looks incredible in it.

I’m sure Dalton “the douchebag” Lorenzo won’t tell her he thinks she needs to get her own water from the fridge, but who cares? I’m freaking alone, and it’s not time to crawl into bed and hope I can get some good sleep before the alarm goes off for yoga while it’s still dark outside.

Dalton has been giving me puppy dog eyes and I can tell he wants to apologize for his douchery, but I’m evading him because I don’t want to hear it. While Farrah lay out by the pool today, I was hand-washing her lingerie. Scoping out the restaurant she and Dalton would be at tonight because she wanted to make sure the lighting and camera angles would be flattering. And reviewing her strict dietary restrictions with the restaurant’s chef so she could breezily order dinner without sounding high maintenance.

That went great. The chef doesn’t use ceramic cookware, which Farrah insists on, so I had to go buy him a saucepan and convince him to use it to cook her meal tonight. He called me a few choice names, so I had to break out my cash stash and buy his compliance.

When I finally got back to the house, Farrah’s organic, plant-based lunch in hand, she said she fell asleep in the lounge chair and had a dream that would be a great movie plotline. She insisted on telling me about it while I took notes on my laptop so I could write up a proposal for a studio.

The chef at the house is making brick-oven pizzas to order tonight. My stomach growls angrily as I walk into the kitchen because I haven’t had time to eat today.

A chef’s assistant, Carly, sees me and smiles, going over to a stack of white boxes and taking off the one on top.

“Perfect timing. I just took yours out of the oven. One pizza with garlic, extra cheese and extra pepperoni.”

The heavenly scents of pepperoni and roasted garlic make my mouth water with anticipation. My eyes fill with tears as I take the box from Carly.

“Thank you for this. It’s been a day, and...just thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“We’ve got you, girl. Go relax and enjoy it. There’s red wine, water, tea and lemonade on the sideboard in the main dining room.”

I take a cleansing breath as I walk away, embarrassed that I almost cried over a damn pizza. My emotions must be running high. They definitely were when I unleashed my fury on Dalton.

My job is none of his business, and he really should have just kept on walking instead of sitting down to chat with me. But I may have taken some other things out on him, and that may not have been fair.

That’s an issue for Tomorrow Alice, because Today Alice has fucking had it and she deserves a big glass of wine and some pizza.

I avoid eye contact with everyone I pass as I go to the dining room to get some wine because I’m so hungry I can only think about the first bite of this pizza that smells life changing.

Fortunately, no one even tries to look at me. Everyone in the house stops Farrah or says something to her when they see her, but most of them don’t even know my name. They just call me “Farrah’s assistant” and mostly ignore me.

I’m able to make my way out to the beach, where I settle beneath an umbrella that Misty was using earlier. Sand makes a killer cup holder for my wineglass. It’s just me, the sparkling ocean near sunset, and my dinner.

The pizza is incredible. I savor every bite, eating six of the eight slices. The chef couldn’t have chosen a better night for pizzas, not just because I may have an orgasm from eating mine but also because Farrah wouldn’t have eaten this. I would’ve spent my evening getting her dinner. So I guess I kind of owe Dalton for picking her for his date.

Maybe she’ll come out of this show in a relationship. That would be great for me. When she’s dating someone, I get breaks from her when she’s on dates. The overnight ones are my favorite because I get to skip sunrise yoga and workout. But it’s been a while since she’s had a boyfriend.

An occasional date so she can be photographed and make headlines? Yes. But someone meeting her crazy high standards and making it to relationship status? Not so much.

When I’m done with dinner, I take out my phone, willing it to not have a text from Farrah.

No such luck.

Farrah: Dalton smells good. It’s making me horny.

Farrah: God I want a margarita. Must stay strong!

Farrah: Okay, if Dalton and I don’t report for yoga in the morning, don’t come to my room looking for me...

Farrah: But don’t miss yoga because I’ll wake up no matter how late we’re up.

I text back a quick okay and good luck , and then take a chance and call my brother, planning to leave him a long check-in voicemail.

“Hey, Alice,” he says.

I smile, the sound of his voice reminding me of home. “Wow, you answered. Are you on a break from saving people?”

“I just got off a fifteen-hour shift. I’m walking to the train. It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”

I sigh softly. “Kind of wishing we’d been born identical twins instead of fraternal so we could swap places. You would’ve scrubbed the crotch of another person’s undies with your hands today and been called a provincial fucking fool by a French chef.”

“Okay, not ideal. But you would have removed a screwdriver handle from a guy’s ass, so...”

I laugh. “Stop it, you did not.”

“Oh, I did. And two pairs of rubber gloves didn’t feel like enough for that job.”

“First of all, how?”

“You mean, how’d it happen, or how’d I get it out?”

“I can imagine how it happened to him. He was getting railed with a screwdriver and it broke off.”

“He tried to tell us he didn’t know how it got in there. When the nurse told him we had to call the police because it sounded like he’d been assaulted, he owned it.”

I close my eyes, laughing softly. “Oh my God, the absolute mortification.”

“Yeah. My attending was like, This is all you, Morrow .”

“So how did you get it out?”

“Rectal retractor and my hand. I did not get paid enough today. I promise you that.”

I feel more relaxed than I have since arriving at the beach house. Talking to Will has that effect on me.

“Well, you win. Your day was worse than mine.”

“Why the hell are you washing Farrah’s underwear by hand?”

“I always have. She prefers her lingerie be hand-washed.”

He scoffs. “Well, fuck. Can’t a Laundromat do that?”

“Nope. Do you know what some people would be capable of if they knew they had Farrah Reed’s worn underwear?”

“Jesus. That’s...disgusting but completely true.”

“How are you, seriously? Are you holding up okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. The hours are long, but I love it. I’m hoping to get home next weekend to see Mom and Dad.”

A passerby nods as she walks past me with two big German shepherds. I smile, wishing I could pet the dogs.

“Good. I FaceTimed them the other night, and I thought Dad seemed more tired than usual. And Mom said he refused his therapies two different days. I’m worried.”

Will pauses before saying, “So am I.”

I sit up straighter. “You are? Why?”

“I should have texted you. Mom called me last week because Dad’s been really fatigued and his urine output has decreased.”

My heart pounds nervously. Why didn’t my mom tell me any of this?

“Okay. Is it some kind of nutritional deficiency? I can overnight a supplement to them. Why didn’t Mom--”

“I wish it were something like that. The medication he’s on to prevent more strokes can cause kidney issues for people who are on it long term.”

I’m quiet as I consider my brother’s words. He isn’t offering up a solution, and I don’t like that.

“What does that mean, Will? And don’t bullshit me.”

“I mean, I haven’t seen him recently, so it’s hard for me to say for sure. I told her to get him in with a nephrologist, but she can’t find anyone in their network who has an opening less than three months out.”

“I’ll pay for it. Wherever he can get in, I’ll pay for it.”

“You’re already spending a lot on their expenses and in-home help. And we’re not just talking about one consultation. There’ll be tests and probably treatment.”

Panic rises in my throat, clawing at my ability to breathe. “I have forty-two thousand dollars, Will. And you know how much Farrah pays me. If I can get a payment plan--”

He cuts me off. “It’s been six years, Alice. He’s beaten the odds just by staying alive this long.”

“I’ll ask Farrah to call in a favor. She knows people.”

“Listen to me.” Will’s stern tone takes me by surprise. “If I think he needs it when I get there this weekend, I’ll make sure he gets admitted to a hospital. I’m getting him in with a specialist here within the next two weeks. We’ll know more then.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, admitting something I can only say out loud to my brother. “I’m scared.”

“Yeah, me too. But I’m not a nephrologist, and neither are you. Let’s wait until we get more information, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You doing okay?”

I can barely hear him over the background noise. “What?”

“It’s the train. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I end the call, my tears blurring the oranges and pinks of the sky as the sun slips past the horizon for the night. My chest aches with worry.

My brother is the smartest person I’ve ever known. He’s a doctor. Even though he’s still completing his education, he sent me a picture of his white coat and it has “Dr. William Morrow” stitched on it.

As hard as it is, I have to do what he says and wait until we know more about what’s going on with our dad. Even if it’s hell to be waiting at a massive pink Malibu beach house while a reality show is filmed around me.