Tasteless (6 page)

“No,” she answered, stepping away from him.

“Nah, didn’t think so,” the paparazzo shrugged.  “I remember her on that show.  That girl’s a dog.  And you ain’t half bad.”  Rye ignored him, continuing to walk in the opposite direction of his camera and its flashes.  She knew the photographer knew exactly who she was, but she remembered their tactics – saying or doing anything to elicit a profitable response.

The hold music the car service dispatcher had put on grew more and more irritating with every happy chime-like chord it struck.  Rye wanted to hang up, but she was also desperate to leave before more paparazzi recognized her.  In the distance, she could hear the high-pitched squeal of a couple girls laughing, sounding much like her sisters had as a child when they would play a family game of hide and seek.  It was what gave away their position every time.  She looked up, expecting to see Poppy and Sage for some reason, only to find two wavy-haired brunettes running out of Greyta, hand in hand.

“Quick!” the girl in the chiffon dress said, shoving her friend into a car.  Behind them were a group of guys around the same age, watching and laughing with them – except for one, who was staring back at Rye.  She blinked away the spots, focusing her vision so she could recognize the person smiling at her.  She smiled back, too happy to see someone she recognized to care that it was Sam.

“Get over here,” he yelled.  Rye rolled her eyes, picking up the hem of her skirt and carefully walking over.

“Hey,” she said, trying to hide her sheepish expression.

“You came after all,” he said.  She watched as Sam stole a quick glance at her outfit.  “You look…”

“Stop,” she said, holding her hand out in front of her.  “I don’t want to hear it today.”

“Okay,” he shrugged, before turning to his friends.  “Damian, Gavin – this is Rye Somerville.”

“Somerville?” Gavin asked.  “You’re related to those two in there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rye shook her head.  “I know, I’m nothing like them.”

“Thank Christ,” Gavin laughed.  “Because it was going to be super-awkward when I told Sam he couldn’t invite you back to the house.  But now that I know you’re ‘
nothing like them
,’ you’re good to go.”

“We’re heading back to my place for an early after-party,” Sam explained.  “And by my place, I mean Damian’s place.  I’m just staying in their guest room.”

“So, the three of you are roommates?” Rye asked.

“Nope,” Gavin replied, putting a hand on Damian’s shoulder.  “This one here is dating my sister who happens to be best friends with my fiancée.”  He put his other hand on Sam’s shoulder.  “And this one is mooching off of all of us.”

“Ah, I see,” Rye smiled.

“Who’s this?” a girl’s voice yelled from the rolled-down window of one of the towncars.

“This is Rye,” Gavin yelled back, pointing at Rye.

“Hi, Rye!”

“That would be my fiancée,” Gavin answered.  “Now, do you want to join their car or you want to ease into this group slowly by riding back with Sam first?”

“Um, either way is fine,” Rye replied.

“I recommend riding with me and Damian,” Sam said, pushing Gavin towards the car with the girls in it.  “Drunk Zoe and Gemma may be a little too much to handle on Day One.”

~

On the car ride over the Manhattan Bridge, Rye was given a quick rundown on Sam and his friends.  She sat quietly, listening and observing as Sam acted the most natural she had seen him be since they’d met.  Strangely enough, it wasn’t all too different from what she had seen in their day-to-day, but he seemed just a little more comfortable and relaxed when he was with Damian.  In seeing that, she couldn’t help but feel bad about making things so contentious between them.  Rye knew that she was somewhat at fault for making Sam’s life difficult and putting him on edge, but she couldn’t help but harbor a little resentment for the cocky man who thought he could waltz into her restaurant and mess with the space that housed her family’s history.  But maybe he didn’t understand the importance of family, or didn’t value it the way that she had.  After all, he never made mention of any sort of family.  But then again, Sam had never mentioned that he lived with a professional athlete and his designer girlfriend.  In fact, he didn’t talk much about himself at all.  All Rye knew of him was what she deducted by observing his everyday behavior, which didn’t paint the most flattering picture.  Of course, that was only her opinion and like always, it seemed no one else shared it.

Damian and Gemma’s home was a beautiful three-story townhouse, not too deep into Brooklyn.  They had a backyard lined with fig trees and a brick and metal grill built into their patio.  Sam and Damian got started on the grill immediately, skewering vegetables and seasoning steaks, still dressed in their dress shirts.  No one had bothered to change out of their outfits, which Rye found relieving since she’d be the only one stuck in something formal.

Gemma sat on a checkered blanket she had spread out on the grass next to a full-length, cushioned lounge chair.  She gestured for Rye to take a seat.

“Are you sure?” Rye asked as Gemma patted the lounge chair.  She looked around.  “Where are you going to sit?”

“On the blanket,” she replied.  “It’s perfectly comfy but the guest always gets the best seat in the house.”  Rye smiled, sitting back on the slightly reclined chair and stretching out her legs in front of her.

“I’m a guest too,” Zoe said, before quickly hopping onto the chair beside Rye.  She gasped, startled by the near-stranger suddenly cuddling up beside her.

“You practically live here,” Gemma laughed.  “And you’re scaring our
actual
guest.”

“You’re fine,” Zoe declared to Rye with such confidence that she accepted it to be true.  Without asking, she began to braid Rye’s hair as she gossiped with Gemma about someone they had seen at Greyta.  Rye sat there peacefully, relieved that she had never stepped foot into her sisters’ party earlier.  If she had to do any sort of socializing, this was definitely something she could stomach more easily.  Rye wasn’t sure it was actually in her nature to enjoy or even engage in big group situations on her own, let alone the types of events her sisters threw.  She had only shown up at the party because she hated that Sam had gotten invited over her and didn’t seem to have a choice about going to Gemma and Damian’s.

“Hey everyone,” Gavin said.  “Can we all make fun of Sam for trying to serve up my barbecued kielbasa all fancy?” He grabbed a long metal prong, skewering the foot-long sausage that Sam was trying to plate before eating directly off the tool.

“Boo, Sam.”  Zoe let go of Gemma’s hair just long enough to give him two thumbs down.  Sam smiled, ignoring them as he plated up another dish.  He made his way over to the girls, holding the plate above his head as he took a seat beside Gemma on the blanket.  Rye peered over the armrest, looking at the long platter of caramelized vegetables and sliced pieces of perfectly seared steak.  She was apparently in a good mood, and despite having labeled Sam as her mortal enemy, couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful dish.

“Hey guys,” Gavin called out again.  The group turned to see him holding his kielbasa over his crotch.  “Does this look familiar?” Damian and Sam laughed, giving Gavin just enough encouragement to “helicopter” his kielbasa.

“No, Gavin!” Gemma shrieked, covering her eyes.  “Have some respect.” Gavin shrugged, bringing the sausage back to his mouth and taking a bite.

Sam left the plate of food behind, jumping back to his feet to rejoin the boys as they had some kind of conversation about MMA fighters over their beers.  Zoe rested her head on Rye’s shoulder, swigging her own beer as she stared up at the sky.

“Too bad you can’t see stars here,” she said.  “Guess that’s the price of living in the greatest city in the world.”

“I know this sounds stupid but I didn’t realize people could have houses out here,” Rye said.

“Well,” Zoe said, pointing a finger at Gemma.  “
Some
people can have houses out here.”

“Don’t look at me,” she said, pointing in turn at Damian.  “This was his doing.  I’m not the NBA star, here.”

“So… how long have you two been together?” Rye asked.

“I know you think there’s a simple answer to that question,” Zoe laughed.  “But you just roped yourself into an hour long explanation.”

“That’s not true,” Gemma said.  “I’ve… gotten it down to a five-minute explanation.”  She laughed, shaking her head.  “But I can make it even shorter for you.”

“Oh,” Rye replied, frowning at the potentially awkward situation she had just created.  She somehow sucked at making conversation even with the most basic of questions.  “You don’t have to talk about it, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Gemma smiled.  “It’s not like a secret or anything.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it somewhere,” Zoe said, poking at Rye.

“I try to avoid gossip blogs,” Rye explained.  “Just because, you know, family history.”  The girls nodded, looking sympathetic.  She held her breath, waiting for one of them to ask details.  Luckily, they didn’t bother.

“Long story short, Damian and I have been together
officially
for like… two months.”

“
Really?
” Zoe exclaimed.  “Really. 
That’s
your answer? Does Damian know this?”

“We haven’t discussed it…” Gemma trailed off.

“Let me set it straight,” Zoe said, sitting up and looking Rye in the eye.  “Gemma and Damian first started dating seven years ago.  They split up when he went off to college.  They serendipitously reunited a year later at a photo shoot.  Then they were ‘just friends’ for like,
five fucking years.
  And then they accidentally got married.  And then that shit got annulled.  And then a couple months went by before they decided they’d give it all another go.  Now, Gemma is counting from that last round.  But if you ask Damian, they’ve been together for seven years.”

“He wouldn’t say that,” Gemma interjected.  “That would be disrespectful to everyone we’ve dated since high school.”

“
What
ever.  You two are annoying and like to drag things the fuck out, let’s just leave it at that,” Zoe said.  “Enough about them.  How about you, Rye? Are you seeing anyone?”

Rye suddenly remembered why she didn’t like hanging out with other girls.  That question would always find a way to come up and she didn’t have the conviction it took to say that she was happily single. The closest she had ever come to
not
being single was her college “boyfriend,” whom was probably better defined as a classmate that she lost her virginity to.

“I’m not,” Rye answered with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Why? Isn’t Sam single?” Zoe asked.

“Just because someone’s single doesn’t mean she’s automatically interested in him,” Gemma laughed.

“Sam could be single, taken, married, or gay and I would
still
be interested in him,” Zoe replied.

“Reminder that you’re engaged to my brother…” Gemma said as she sipped on her wine.

“C’mon, look at the man,” Zoe whispered.  Gemma and Rye did so, watching as Sam and the boys idly tossed a baseball to each other.  “That stupid tattoo of his actually works on him.  And his forearms are all muscley probably from cooking up five-course meals all day.”  Rye cocked her head, trying to see what every girl seemed to see in Sam.  But all she could see was the nuisance that had intruded on her life.

“He is pretty cute,” Gemma agreed.

“Cute?” Zoe exclaimed.  “He’s fucking
sexy.
”

“Who is?” Gavin yelled over.

“You, baby!” Zoe yelled back before giggling and burying her face in Rye’s shoulder.  Rye laughed, shaking her head and exchanging a quick glance with Gemma.  She smiled back.

“So you two are just friends, then?” she asked, hugging a cushion under her chin as she looked up in curiosity.

“We’re not even that,” Rye laughed.  “I’m pretty sure we hate each other.”

“Sam doesn’t hate anyone.  Then again, I guess I wouldn’t want to work with him either,” Gemma smiled.  “But from living with him, I can tell you that he at the very least makes a great friend.  Maybe not the best roommate, but a good enough friend that we let him stick around.”

Suddenly, a giant splash exploded between Rye and Gemma.  Water dripped into her eyes, blurring her vision.  Before she could even recover, another giant splash hit her in the ankles.

“You fucking shit!” she could hear Zoe yell.  Rye sat up, wiping the water from her eyes to see the remnants of orange latex sitting at their feet – a balloon.  Zoe sprang to her feet, her tea-length dress soaked up to the waist.  Gemma was already running at the boys full speed, swinging the cushion she was sitting with in front of her.  Gavin had somehow become in possession of a laundry basket full of colorful water balloons.

“Heads up!” Rye could hear Sam yell.  Before she knew it, another balloon had broken in front of her, splashing up what felt like a gallon of ice-cold water.  She shrieked, putting her arms out in front of her in hopes of blocking any more attacks.  Instead, she felt the weight of someone placing something in her hand.