“That’s a sucker’s bet,” Brittany says, shaking her head, and Chloe laughs, leaning back in her seat.
“Okay, but now I need to know if I’m right,” she says, and then she stands and heads over to their table.
She puts her hand on the back of the chair of the alpha bro, the biggest of the three. He is wearing a fancy watch on one thick wrist, and several tattoos peep out from beneath his rolled-up sleeves.
“I swear I know you,” Chloe says to the guy, her Aussie accent slipping into American so flawlessly that Amma raises her eyebrows in surprise.
“Did you go to Brown?” Chloe continues, and the guy shakes his head even as he pushes his sunglasses up to get a better look at her. Chloe is not a knockout, not in the same way Brittany is, but there’s something about her that draws the eye, and Amma sees the way the guy’s gaze slides over Chloe’s body.
“USC,” he replies, and Chloe giggles, cocking out one hip as she leans in a little closer. “Oh my god, duh.”
She reaches out, playfully tapping the brim of his hat, where the USC logo is stitched in bright thread. The guy’s smile widens. “But I do totally know you from somewhere,” Chloe continues, and the guy shifts in his seat, somehow spreading his legs even wider.
“Why do they all do that?” Brittany mutters to Amma, tipping the contents of her wineglass down her throat. “It’s so unattractive.”
“You follow lacrosse?” the guy says to Chloe, his tone cocky.
“Maybe that’s it!”
Amma watches her and the dude put their heads together, phones emerging as they clearly exchange numbers or social media handles, maybe both. She wonders if Chloe has had more to drink than she realized because just as she gets up from her seat, Chloe stumbles a little, and drops her phone under the table. She’s giggling as she retrieves it, while all three of the dudes take the opportunity to check out her ass.
“Classy,” Amma murmurs, unsure whether she’s trashing Chloe or the guys.
Once she’s back in her seat, Chloe waggles her phone at them. “Check it.”
In a few seconds, she has USC’s profile pulled up, and surreptitiously shows it to Brittany and Amma. “What did I tell you?”
It’s endless shots of the same guy posing next to fancy cars, his chin lifted, his gaze somewhere in the middle distance. He’s shirtless in at least half of them, his skin golden and smooth, dark ink swirling up and down his massive biceps.
“What does he even do for a living?” Brittany asks. “I mean, shit, that’s a Maybach he’s standing in front of.”
The waiter approaches, a bottle of wine in a cold bucket. “We didn’t order that,” Amma says, as Chloe twists to smile at the guys, waving in thanks.
Amma’s face goes hot. Of course.
“Well, for one,” Chloe says to Brittany as she fills her glass, “I can guarantee you he doesn’t actually own that car. He’s probably just doing a photo shoot at a lot. And two, all these guys are like this. This whole ‘entrepreneur’ thing. Call themselves CEOs of a company they made up themselves and which, surprise!—–never turns a profit.” She shakes her head. “These fuckers are everywhere. And they all look like that, and they all have social media accounts that look like this and say stupid shit like, ‘You can’t fly with lions if you swim with sheep.’”
That actually makes Amma laugh, but Brittany is still scrolling, frowning. “God, can’t they see how douchey this is?”
“Douche calls to douche,” Chloe answers with a shrug. “That’s how they actually make money. They front like big guys, which sucks in other dudes who want to be big guys, too—then they run these, like, ‘marketing workshops’ for thousands of dollars. It’s all a scam.”
She glances back over at their table, and Amma sees a muscle move in her jaw. “And the worst part is, they get away with it.”
The check arrives for the few glasses they ordered before the guys came in, and Brittany reaches for it.
“I’ve got it,” Chloe says, taking the check and pulling out her wallet. Amma catches a glimpse inside her purse, and notices a wad of cash crammed in a side pocket.
“I thought you didn’t have any cash,” she says.
Chloe shrugs as she zips up her bag. “Found some.”
NOW
FOURTEEN
I’m up early for some reason the next morning, drinking crappy instant coffee on the Susannah’s deck when Eliza motors over in the Zodiac. Despite all the daiquiris last night, she looks fresh and bright, her smile blinding in the early sunlight.