Stay Sweet(26)

“Oh, just a little recon on one Grady Patrick Meade.”

Amelia freezes, her glass of Coke just underneath her nose, the fizz tickling her upper lip. “And?”

“I haven’t found much yet. His accounts are set to private, friends only.” Another tap or two and Cate says, “Ooh. Wait up. This could be something.” And then Cate and holds her phone high in victory. “Yes! Jackpot!”

Amelia sets her Coke down and, trying not to look too eager, crawls over, asking, “Anything interesting?”

“I did a little research on Truman’s fraternity chapters. Alpha Kappa Psi is the business one and Grady’s in some of the party pictures.” Cate winces at the screen, laughing. “Okay, he’s still hot, but this is the dorkiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Cate flips her phone around to show Amelia a photo of Grady Meade standing with five other guys in a line, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. Grady is the tallest and the tannest one. The thinnest, too. He doesn’t seem skinny in real life, but the other guys are beefy, like rugby players or something. Anyway, they’re wearing matching pastel button-up shirts, madras plaid bow ties, short khaki shorts, and docksiders.

Amelia curls up to Cate and takes a closer look. To Amelia, Grady seems so much more relaxed here than he was at the stand with her.

“Isn’t it funny, to think of me going to parties like this?” Cate says. “Full of these rich, fancy people?”

Amelia studies the picture. The boys are in someone’s backyard, a fancy one, with topiaries and a pergola and a huge in-ground pool. Someone who looks like a waiter stands in the background, balancing a tray on one hand. “Not at all. I feel like this is your destiny.” Cate has always had her sights set on something bigger than Sand Lake. She was the one who advocated tirelessly for their senior class trip to go to New York City. In those three days, Amelia’s pretty sure Cate never slept. Even at night, when the teachers would put tape over their hotel room doors, Cate would stay awake, watching the city streets from their hotel window.

Cate smiles appreciatively. “I’m actually required to take a bunch of business classes for my science degree. The thinking is that one of us might invent some crazy new medicine or diagnostic tool that could, with the right investors, make us millionaires, or whatever. I should get Grady’s take on which professors are good and which ones suck.”

Amelia sees this as another thing Grady and Cate have in common. They both are able to take a totally intimidating situation and see opportunity for themselves.

Cate swipes to another photo, one of Grady at the same party. He’s now stripped down to just his swim trunks, in the beautiful pool, riding a huge inflatable swan. He’s wearing his classic Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses and beaming a bright and toothy smile to the camera. A girl in a metallic bikini clings to him, her head resting against his back, eyes closed.

“So that’s his girlfriend,” Amelia deduces. The girl is extremely pretty. Tall like a model, with perfectly polished red nails and a cloud of thick black curly hair. Amelia feels a heat prickling inside her rib cage.

“She very well could be, I guess,” and Cate wags her finger at Amelia. “She’s also the president of the Truman Future Business Leaders Club. I found these pictures through her page.”

“Oh,” Amelia says, mortified.

“It’s okay. Biases are strong as hell, right? But girlfriend or not, I’m sure Grady will try to get with one of our girls this summer.”

“Do you think? I mean . . . he’s our boss.” Anyway, that’s the line in the sand Amelia’s tried to remind herself of.

Cate shakes her head, like Amelia is naive. “You can’t let a fox into the henhouse and not expect some carnage, Amelia. That’s why we’ll need to make it crystal clear to the younger girls that Grady’s completely and totally off-limits.”

“Yes. Completely and totally off-limits,” Amelia echoes, and hearing herself say it aloud, like a pledge, comforts her. This new rule isn’t emotional, it isn’t personal. It’s simply a sound and solid reason to smother any burgeoning interest she may have for Grady, beyond, of course, his ability to successfully run Meade Creamery.

They watch a movie and paint each other’s nails. White, with little flecks of color, to look like sprinkles. Cate showers first, Amelia second, so they won’t have to do it in the morning. Cate knows what drawer Amelia’s pj’s are in and she helps herself to a matching set of a floral cami and boxers, which Amelia realizes, come to think of it, might belong to Cate. Cate burrows into her nest of blankets on Amelia’s floor while Amelia props herself up with a pillow and begins a to-do list in a notebook.

“There’s no way I’m going to sleep this early,” Cate says. “I don’t think I’ve fallen asleep before ten since I was in diapers.”

“It’s important we get our rest!”

“Then put your notebook down!”

“I’m trying to figure out how we’re going to get everything done tomorrow. We’ll only have five hours.”

“We won’t get everything done,” Cate says, matter-of-fact. “And so what? It’s not like Grady will know the difference. Plus, we can always catch up after opening day.”

“That’s true.”