CHAPTER FOUR
The Pool, Miles' Island — 15:26 p.m.
—— WHISKEY EMERGED FROM HER ROOM into the sunlight, bathing suit on and ready to test out. She looked around for a second before frowning down at the necklace hanging from her neck, a conflict in her head telling her to take it off, but on the other hand it was probably gonna help her in the long term. She decided on keeping it as it was, brushing a hand through her hair to blow away the stress, and picking up a bottle of some kombucha that had been left in her and Duke’s room.
Walking down the path, she realized that she had no idea where the pool actually was, and it wasn’t like she could go ask anyway since she didn’t know where anybody was either. She thought about knocking on Iris’ door again, but the conversation from earlier haunted her. It had ended well from what she could tell, but Iris was pretty good at covering up. What Whiskey had said during that conversation, she couldn’t say she had told the complete truth, but she had a plan. She would stay with Duke, keep up her reputation, help him out by entertaining Miles as much as she wished she didn’t have to and then her career would be set.
If she continued down the path with Iris, her life would blow up. So maybe she was happy about the way the conversation had gone earlier.
Knocking her out of her thoughts, a figure appeared from between the bushes up ahead. She was so startled, she stopped on the path, biting down on her lip. Andi was right in front of her, and she didn’t exactly know what to say, especially with how everything had gone down in the trial.
“Hey,” Whiskey finally made her presence known, Andi’s head snapping to her in an extremely intimidating way. She had heard she was intimidating.
“Hi,” she replied, seemingly surprised.
“Andi,” Whiskey spoke, mostly as a continuation of her greeting. Her mind was all jumbled from before, but she quickly set it back to its usual ordered fashion.
“Yes,” Andi nodded, and Whiskey understood that there wasn’t a lot to say.
“I’m Whiskey,” she introduced herself, making her way up the steps. “We didn’t really meet.” Andi only nodded once again, the blonde recognizing that the woman preceded her reputation of being unimpressed. “Are you looking for the pool?”
“I am.”
“Do you want to walk?” Whiskey asked happily.
“Sure.”
They started down the path and Whiskey remembered the kombucha in her hand, pushing it towards Andi. “Do you want this? I’m not into it. It smells like that guy Derol.” And Andi took it.
“That’s a beautiful necklace,” Andi spoke as they continued their way down a back staircase, neither unsure of the way they were going. Whiskey looked down at it hanging round her neck again, feigning a soft smile. “You’re a Taurus?”
“Yeah,” Whiskey replied, clearing her throat. “Um, Miles got it for me. He, um, surprised me for my birthday. He filled his entire penthouse apartment with roses. It was very cute…” She cleared her throat yet again, thinking back to a different memory. “But it was nothing compared to what Iris did. She invited me out to New York for the weekend, and she had strung lights over this secluded corner in Central Park, a picnic all laid out. We spent the whole night watching movies outdoors, the stars above us, and we talked, and it was—” She realized she had been talking a lot, turning back to Andi, shaking away the thoughts. “But Miles… yeah, he’s a really good guy. He’s just— complicated. But… I think it’s really shitty what they all did to you. And how they all treated you. I read your court transcripts, and you got shanked.”
“Thanks, Whiskey,” Andi told her, it sounded like the most genuine thing she had said in their whole conversation. Whiskey sent her a small smile, returning the genuinity.
They took another turn in the courtyard, finding themselves in a garden filled with glass statues, all square art. The island just got more twisted the more they walked through it.
“Yeah, this is my second one of these things,” Whiskey explained, opening up a bit more since Andi was as closed as a clam. “We did a yacht thing last year.”
“Well, that sounds fun,” Andi shrugged.
Whiskey let out a loud laugh, shaking her head. “No. I mean, when they’re all together, it’s kind of the worst. Duke just treats me like arm candy, and they just ignore me.”
“Even Iris?” Andi questioned, and Whiskey heated up at the thought that she was that see-through.
“Iris? Well… No,” Whiskey shook her head again, twirling a piece of hair between her fingers. “If anything, she’s the one I like the best. She’s the only one that… sees me. I guess. Like, really sees me, you know?”
“‘Course,” Andi agreed, not pushing the subject anymore. “Why do you put up with it?”
“With Iris?” Whiskey asked, furrowing her eyebrows, but Andi shook her head. The blonde gasped quietly and carried on, ignoring her previous slip up. “Oh, Duke? I’m building my brand, and he’s putting me on his channel more often. Though, he’s leaning harder right into his mandom stuff. Like, if I’m going to go into politics eventually, I don’t think that’s a road I wanna go down. Like, it’s expeditious, but it’s kind of a shitshow.” All of a sudden, they looked through the trees and the shimmer of water glinted towards them. “Oh, here’s the pool.”
“I’m gonna walk around a little longer,” Andi informed the girl. “I’ll catch you over there.”
“Okay,” Whiskey nodded as happy as ever, beginning to take a step over there, eyes immediately catching Iris laid back on a sunbed beside Claire and Lionel, the green bikini she had picked out stretched out alluringly over her body.
“Hey,” Andi called out again, bringing Whiskey’s attention back to her. “It’s really great talking to you, Whiskey.”
“You too,” the blonde replied earnestly and smiled, once again, making her way towards the pool, a direct beeline towards Iris’ chair.
“So, what’s this new book about, Iris?” Claire began the conversation, her robe wrapped around her body tightly, and a visor keeping her completely out of the sunlight. Lionel also leaned forward to join in, his arms leaning on his knees after putting a couple layers of sunblock on Claire’s hands and lower legs. “We all heard the announcement, especially since it’s your first book back in two years.”
“Well, it’s a murder mystery,” Iris explained, clicking her tongue as she closed the book she had been reading through her sunglasses and placed it on the table beside her.
“We do know that, yes,” Lionel chuckled, knowing this routine.
“Okay, look, let’s keep this between us,” Iris whispered, leaning forward to the others. “I have literally no ideas. Barely knew I was writing a murder mystery to begin with. Miles practically forced me into pitching it to my publisher.”
“Oh, so naughty,” Claire smirked, leaning into her sunbed, adjusting her visor accordingly.
“I’m pretty much stuck and about to lose my job,” Iris finished with a strained smile, picking her book back up again and placing a hand behind her head. “So, here’s to my last weekend of employment.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Lionel advised as the wise man, pushing Claire’s hand back down when she had tried to toast to Iris’ statement. “Hey, maybe you can get some ideas from Miles’ dinner party tonight. This whole weekend can be your blueprint.”
“I’m sure Miles has already copyrighted this whole trip,” Iris scoffed, flipping the page.
There was some relaxing silence for a couple more seconds until some high heels clicked their way along the deck, all of them raising their heads to see Birdie wandering out from the bushes, handbag swinging from her arm and an eccentric cape waving out behind her.
“Lionel, you are too sexy to be a scientist,” the woman almost scolded, passing the group and landing down on the sunbed right next to Iris, stopping her from reading her book once again by stealing it from her hands. “Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo? Such a romantic, Iris. I wonder why you haven’t snatched anyone up for yourself yet. Waiting to recreate this book, or something?”
“I hope not,” Iris frowned, stealing the book back.
Birdie moved on from the younger girl, setting her sights on Claire who had opened her laptop on the woman’s arrival. “And, Claire… you look so cute.”
“Aw, thanks, Bird,” Claire replied snidely, flipping her off in the process.
“You really try,” the woman continued, not taking the hint. “I like that. You really make an effort.”
“Well, I figured, Greece,” Claire bobbed her head, shutting her laptop and finally taking in the sights around them.
“And no masks, I can breathe again,” Birdie sighed, taking a breath for good measure.
“Did anyone else follow up on what that random guy shot into our mouths?” Iris asked around, but got no answer as Birdie encased them in yet another conversation.
“Look at this pool,” Birdie said joyfully, crossing one leg over the other. “I think I’ll go for a swim.”
Just as she spoke, Whiskey emerged from the crystal clear water, as majestic as ever. Iris leaned herself forwards, pulling down her sunglasses and biting down on one of the handles. The blonde was sure to know she had multiple pairs of eyes on her, but she brushed it off, stroking her hair back neatly, the water droplets reflecting on her tanned skin.
“Maybe I’ll lay out for a bit,” Birdie concluded, tone bitter.
“Looking good, babe,” Iris called to Whiskey in the pool, and the blonde turned her head immediately, sending her an accomplished wink, climbing out by the steps. She brought a towel round her neck before turning back, beckoning Iris over and the brunette was swift to comply. “I’ll see you guys around.”
“Don’t let Duke catch you drooling,” Lionel teased her as she passed, and she sent him a subtle middle finger, her book in her other hand.
She dropped herself into one of the beanbag chairs next to Miles, Duke lounging at the side of the pool while Whiskey wandered around to sit on the table in front of her. She let her back settle into the side of Iris’ body, legs kicked up in front of Miles. Iris fell back into her reading as Miles strummed some chords on his guitar, the tune melodic.
“Hey, Iris, baby, have some of that kombucha,” Miles spoke up upon seeing her arrival.
“I’m holding myself till later, Miles,” Iris smirked over her book, the man pointing to her swiftly with a knowing look. “You better have your martini making skills up to top form.”
“You know I always do. Why would you even doubt that?” the man chuckled to himself, turning his head back down to his guitar. Whiskey turned her head to start reading Iris’ book with her while Duke and Miles fell into a conversation. “You know, AK and Flea get all the credit, but Frusciante really is the heart of the Chili Peppers. Hey, Blanc! Have a dip.”
Iris peered her head over the book again, both her and Whiskey eyeing the detective with curiosity. He was wearing a shirt and shorts, both blue and white striped, with a yellow ascot around his neck. Iris applauded him on the vintage choice of fashion.
Mr. Blanc didn’t seem too enthusiastic about Miles’ suggestion, laughing it off. “Hey.”
“Grab a hard kombucha. They’re actually pretty good,” Miles continued advising, placing down the guitar at his side and pointing towards the miniature version of his car, the Baby Blue, which was working as a cooler at the minute. “I just tried to persuade Iris here, but she’s not taking to it. More of a fancy alcohol type-a woman.”
“Mm-hmm,” Iris hummed in agreement, flipping onto the next page when Whiskey nudged her.
“You know, Jared Leto sent ‘em over,” Miles explained, grabbing his own from the table in front of him. “I think he wants me to invest.”
“Well, I am on vacation, so…” Mr. Blanc folded, leaning down to grab one.
“Hey, booch me!” Duke called from his spot in the pool, Miles throwing the one in his hands expertly, the man catching it with ease. “Yeah.”
“Oh! The Baby Blue!” Mr. Blanc seemed to only just realize, throwing his arms out in surprise.
“Iconic,” Duke nodded, chuckling slightly as he remembered something. “Remember that night you almost pancaked me with it on the road outside—”
“Anderson Cooper’s birthday,” Miles finished for him, getting out of his chair to grab himself his own new bottle of the stuff. “Coop’s parties are memorable.”
“Hey, baby, come and swim with me,” Whiskey said to Iris, her mouth right next to the brunette’s ear. Iris placed her book neatly down on the table and put her sunglasses on the top of it, showing that she was all for the idea.
Whiskey giggled and grabbed her hand, both of them diving into the cool water, Iris opening her eyes in the depths. Her surroundings were blurry for a few seconds, but it slowly got clearer until Whiskey’s face appeared before her own, a smile on her lips. She thought for a second, how silent and alone it was down here, just the two of them. But she needed to breathe. Yet Whiskey only smiled at her and it felt like they both wanted the same thing. But her lungs strained in her chest. Yet it was nothing compared to the yearning in her heart. But they had that conversation earlier, agreeing that night was a mistake. Yet Whiskey was only getting closer.
It took her too long and Whiskey dragged her back up to the surface, both needing air just as much as the other. They had only been under for a second, but it felt like hours, the two having lost their breath from just staring at each other. Iris cursed herself for letting her fall so deep for a girl she knew she could never have.
“Wondered when you two were going to come back up! Having fun down there? Without me?” Miles called from the side of the pool, a shit-eating grin etched out in his face. Whiskey laughed back politely, the way she had taught herself, and Iris turned her head, swimming away. Whiskey realized that meant that swimming together was off the table, and began practicing her backstroke.
“Miss Allen,” a rich voice spoke up from beside her and Iris turned to see Mr. Blanc wading through the pool towards her, the kombucha bottle in his hand.
“Oh, hey, Mr. Blanc,” Iris greeted, squinting her eyes against the sun, and deciding to swim her way up to him instead of making him work his way over to her.
“Benoit it alright,” Mr. Blanc assured her and she smiled with a nod, the two of them leaning back against the side of the pool. “This seems to be quite the abode.”
“Well, Miles always was a ‘go big or go home’ kind of guy,” Iris chuckled, leaning her elbows onto the deck around the pool, letting the sun sink into her skin. A few meters away, Whiskey had stopped practicing, instead opting to step out, sitting herself close up to Miles to dry off. Iris clocked them and had to bite the inside of her cheek to not comment on it.
“Is everything alright, Miss Allen?” Mr. Blanc asked, noticing her reaction without her even speaking on it.
“Oh, uh… Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Iris laughed it off, dipping her head down to the waves bobbing up and down against her swimsuit.
“Forgive me if this is too forward, but you and Miss Whiskey seem to be close friends,” Mr. Blanc said, and Iris noted the hinting in his voice. She sighed and looked away, annoyed that it was that obvious even to a complete stranger. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem not at all comfortable in Mr. Bron’s presence?”
“It’s not that,” Iris tried to cover it up, having become an expert at bluffing since meeting Miles. “He’s just been putting me under some pressure lately. Indirectly, mind you. He came up with this idea for me to write a murder mystery, and I had no say in the matter, but he pushed the idea onto my publisher as well. So, now I’m a murder mystery writer.”
“I see,” Mr. Blanc replied, genuinely sympathetic. “Pressure can be a hard road. Especially from someone such as Miles Bron.”
“You’ve got that correct, Benoit,” Iris clicked her tongue, glancing once more over at Whiskey and Miles, catching the blonde’s eyes in the process. There was a sense of something in her stare, and Iris could only name it as intent. Was that girl really trying to make her jealous?
“Now, how did you and Mr. Bron come to meet, Miss Allen?” Mr. Blanc questioned, taking a small sip of his kombucha and wincing at the burn of it down his throat. “I’ve heard the story of everyone else, they’re quite public. But… you. Well, you’ve seemed to evade the media’s eye.”
“It’s a speciality,” Iris chuckled, the detective quick to join in shortly. She stopped after a second, thinking for a moment before starting. “They all hung out together at that old bar called Glass Onion, namesake of this place. It closed down, like— let me think— nine years ago, now? I don’t know, something like that. Doesn’t matter. That was where Alpha was created, yada-yada, but a couple years after that, I was sitting in a cafe and Miles spotted me. I don’t know why he bothered to talk to me, but he noticed me writing, and he sat down and talked to me about it. Of course, I knew who he was, but I’m not, like… a fan-girl or anything. I let him talk, and he gave me an offer, telling me to invest in his business if he got my first book published.”
“Well, doesn’t seem like an offer you could refuse,” Mr. Blanc observed.
Iris nodded with a solemn smile. “Definitely sounds like that.”
“Of course, he probably knew who you were, though,” Mr. Blanc continued, realizing something.
“What?” Iris asked, confused.
“Well, your father is quite well known among society,” Mr. Blanc explained, surprised she hadn’t made her own conclusion. “He’s discovered a few universes in his time, made larger leaps in astronomical science than anyone before. Mr. Bron was sure to have researched who he should talk to about large investments.”
“I guess that… makes sense,” Iris sighed, turning her head back over to where Whiskey was finally making her away from Miles, walking back towards the rest of the mansion.