The One Who Loves You (Tickled Pink #1)(19)

“Yes, Phoebe.”

“And that doesn’t break your principles or stray too far from the plot?”

Estelle claps her hands in what I’d call glee on any other woman. On her, it’s mildly terrifying. “Our help is the management. They get to tell us what to do. And at the end of the day . . .” She pauses, making sure her whole family is watching. “At the end of the day, our helpers will give us report cards.”

“Estelle, is that honestly necessary?” Margot says.

“There’s even a spot on the report cards for marking down how many bribes you each offered someone else to do your work for you. Bribery will earn you attic duties, my darlings, and undoubtedly a straight trip to hell if you happen to ingest poisoned food while we’re in this backwoods town. Don’t do it.”

Phoebe’s frown is growing. “Are you working too?”

“Of the two of us, dear, I do believe I’m far more acquainted with the consequences of not doing the hard work.”

Phoebe’s cheeks flush.

“Oh, snap, again,” Ridhi whispers.

“Yep,” Willie Wayne says. “Way better than Lola’s Tiny House.”

“Shiloh, please call the townsfolk,” Estelle says. “It’s time to pair up and rid the hallways and classrooms of those animal carcasses and live rodents.”

“Tell me Abe’s coming in,” I say to Ridhi.

Willie Wayne snorts. “Already came through while Estelle wasn’t looking. You think any of us are dumb enough to give her a reason to sue the town for rat bites when she realizes this was a bad idea? He got the bats rehomed too. Family don’t have any clue how easy they’re gonna actually have it.”

“Relatively speaking.” Ridhi’s smirking.

And now I’m catching on. “How many deer carcasses did you pull out of the woods and plant in here before their tour yesterday?”

“Only the one.”

“Had it checked for disease first,” Willie Wayne adds.

“Don’t make that face, Teague.” Ridhi wrinkles her nose at me. “If they were gonna wimp out, we wanted them to wimp out on the first day before we got our hopes up.”

Willie Wayne rocks on his heels in glee. “Think of it like an initiation.”

“Rite of passage,” Ridhi agrees with a nod.

“A first-class welcome.”

“A test of what they’re made of.”

“They stick it out and live here, yeah, I’ll have mad respect for that.”

“I have fifty bucks on Carter bailing first, though.” Ridhi grins. “He got drunk at Ladyfingers last night and told everyone this town has no vibe for his creativity.”

I’d bet every dime I have that Carter Lightly will be the last to bail, no matter how much I want Ridhi to be right, because he seems like the one that needs his trust fund the most.

Unless I can find a reason to encourage him to go first.

“Friends?” Shiloh calls. “Come on out. It’s time.”

“For Tickled Pink,” Ridhi says, lifting an invisible champagne flute.

I clink with my own imaginary flute. “Let’s do this.”

She’s completely unaware that my “this” is making sure Estelle Lightly leaves with her family as soon as humanly possible, but that’s okay.

In the meantime, we’re getting a cleaner school and a small amount of attention.

I can handle this.

So long as they leave soon.





Chapter 6


Phoebe


I get stuck with Carter and some local named Ridhi for cleanup duty, and we’re assigned the locker rooms.

The locker rooms.

Gigi points me down the dank hallway outside the theater. “It’s one floor down and to your right. Best give it your all, Phoebe. Whoever gets highest marks on their chores today gets first choice of bedrooms.”

Don’t talk back. Don’t talk back. Don’t—screw it. What more can she actually do to me? “What is this, The Lightly Family Reality Show? Are the cameras coming next?”

“The landfill for reality television trash is already overflowing, dear, and we’re trying to be more ecologically sound. Step two in being a better person. Less trash, more value. Did you miss the part of the movie where Whitney Anastasia learned to recycle? Of course you did. Blink and you miss it, which is what you should’ve said to the Post if you were going to insist on insulting Mr. Barrington’s member. Ridhi will get you a gas mask and rubber gloves.”

There’s irony in that statement—rubber gloves aren’t recyclable, and I have my doubts about the gas mask, too—but I know better than to point it out.

Especially since this Ridhi person is kissing my grandmother’s ass. “My pleasure, Mrs. Lightly.”

“Thank you, Ridhi.”

Ridhi.

Ridhi.

I know that name.

Why do I know that name?

Ridhi looks me up and down. She’s a little shorter than me, with brown skin, hair tucked back in a bun, lines at the corners of her eyes that I’d guess put her five to ten years older than I am, and lips twitching in what I sincerely hope is not amusement. “Thrift shop two blocks over might have some plain old Levis, and the Pink Box is running a sale on Pink Gold T-shirts. I won’t mark you down if you take fifteen minutes to change and get back. Assuming you found yourself some coffee and can operate like a functional human being now?”