I nodded and sighed. “I do. Desperately. We were very close and I would do anything to have just one more day with him. You’re lucky you and your dad still have the opportunity to grow even closer.”
He concentrated on the winding road, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Even though he said he was okay with the deeper, personal conversation, he really didn’t seem to be. Eventually he asked, “What was it like to grow up in Britannia Beach?”
“Life in a tiny roadside village is not fascinating enough to be considered a conversation topic I don’t think.”
“Try me. Tell me something you used to do as a kid.”
“Um, let’s see.” I skipped over most of my good memories because they all included Trevor. I definitely didn’t want to go on about him to Mason. It took a while, but I eventually came up with one. “On hot summer days I used to set up a lemonade stand in the parking lot in front of the Inn. I made so much money from tourists going by on the highway that my dad opened up a bank account for me. I still have all the money. It’s part of my university fund.”
“How entrepreneurial of you.”
I gestured to showcase the features of his car. “Well, I didn’t make quite enough to afford a luxury McLaren.”
He laughed. “Neither did I. My dad gave me the car.” His eyes shifted sideways and met my gaze. “I think I would like to spend more time in Britannia Beach.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ll be begging for an airplane and a hotel room in a foreign country after a couple of hours.”
“Not if you’re here.”
I shoved his shoulder playfully. “Well, although that is obviously your attempt to be funny, I’m only going to be here for the rest of the summer.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
I rolled my eyes, but when his expression remained serious I realized he wasn’t joking. Not sure what to think of that, I tucked my hair behind my ears and focused on the scenery. We had already arrived in Squamish. A few minutes later, we pulled up in front of a two-storey house made of glass and cedar posts arranged in sharp, clean angles. It was an homage to a Fred Hollingsworth design that I had driven past to admire before. Mason pulled into the roundabout driveway and stopped in front of the house. He got out of the car and rushed around to flip my door up for me. Then he offered his hand to help me step out. “You can wait in the house out of the rain while I park the car. I’ll only be a minute.”
I ran to stand under the overhang by the front door and wrapped my bare arms around my body. I didn’t want to go inside because I didn’t even know whose house it was. Three girls who went to my school in Mason’s graduating class filed out of a cab and stumbled up the stone pathway towards the house. I smiled uncomfortably, hoping they would just walk by and ignore me. One of the girls, named Paige, smiled back, but the other two glared at me. The one named Corrine Andrews curled her lip up as if I was dirty or disgusting in some way. They went into the house without knocking and slammed the door shut behind them. They must have been drunk because they were way too loud and I could hear them through the door. “Who is that?”
“Isn’t she Trevor Maverty’s sister?”
“I thought his sister has Down syndrome?”
“Not that one. The sister who works at the Britannia Beach Inn.”
“Trevor only has one sister. The girl who works at the Inn is Derian Lafleur. Remember her? She hangs out with that vampire chick in your cousin’s band.”
“Oh yeah, I remember. That girl outside wasn’t Derian. Derian isn’t that pretty.”
Mason jogged towards me. He was soaking wet, but smiling. Obviously, my face was still locked in the same expression it had been while I was eavesdropping on the girls through the door because his smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I forced myself to be animated and sound convincing. “I think I’m just a little nervous to meet your friends.”
“They’re not so bad. I’ll protect you,” he joked as he squeezed his arm across my shoulders and led me into the house.
My palms got sweaty.
The three girls were still in the foyer, fixing their hair and makeup in the mirror. They turned to see Mason with me and all of their mouths dropped open. Any sliver of confidence I did have, drained out of me when I took a closer look at how they were dressed. Pedicures, strappy high heels, shiny tanned skin, silky dresses that most people would have considered more of a blouse, and diamonds decorating their fingers, wrists, necks, and ears. They almost reeked of money. I reeked of a one-hundred-year-old Inn off the highway. A pair of jeans from London weren’t quite enough to catapult me into their league.
Mason didn’t seem to notice all the reeking as he introduced me. Paige smiled again. The second girl didn’t smile, but she offered a limp handshake. Corrine literally squished her nose up and turned back towards the mirror without even saying hello. “Corrine,” Mason said, obviously irritated by her rudeness.
She turned back to face Mason and produced the fakest smile. “Welcome home, Chancey. I’ve missed you.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
He pulled his head back and frowned at her.
“Who’s your new friend?”
“Derian. She went to school with us.”
She glanced at me and added, “Oh, Derian. I remember. She’s the maid at that little old Inn off the highway. I just didn’t recognize her without her scruffy clothes on.”
Mason glared at Corrine and took my hand. He escorted me away from them and into a living room that overlooked the ocean. “Sorry about that. It’s not about you. She’s just jealous because back in high school she wanted to date and I didn’t.”
I tucked my hair behind my ears and bit at my lower lip.
“You’re uncomfortable. I’m sorry. Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of my guy friends.” He winked. “They shouldn’t be quite as bitchy.”
I smiled because he was cute, and I appreciated that he was trying, but I didn’t feel good about being there. It wasn’t like the parties I usually attended. I was used to Sophie and the band acting wild and playing way too loud until the party got broken up by the cops. I could barely even hear the music on the sound system in the background as Mason and I reached a crowd of guys who were ordering mixed drinks from an actual bartender in a white shirt and black vest.
A guy I recognized from school shouted, “Chancey!” and raised his glass to toast the air.
The four other guys who were standing with their backs to us turned around. They didn’t look at Mason, they all ogled me instead. They nodded and made various comments like, “Way to go, Chance”, “Nice work, Chancey”, and “The infamous Chance Cartwright is back from his world tour and already on to his next conquest,” as if I wasn’t standing right there.
I tore my hand out of Mason’s grasp and stormed back towards the door. I didn’t know how I was going to get back to Britannia Beach, but I didn’t really care. I was angry at myself for being stupid enough to fall for his lines. He had dated a lot of girls in high school and I had been warned back then that he had a reputation for one-night stands. At the time I never put much stock in the exaggerated rumours because my instincts had always given me the sense that there was more depth to him than the rumours gave him credit for. Apparently I was wrong. It was blatantly obvious I was just another piece of ass to him.
Mason caught up with me and pulled my elbow to make me turn and look at him. “Derian, I’m sorry.