Tuesday, June 9
11:15 A.M.
“ADM!” Celia squealed flapping her freshly manicured nails like a baby bird in flight. “We just saw ¡i!!”
Alicia immediately stopped fake-drying an oily Lindo chaise and lifted her sweaty brow. She blocked the mid-morning sun with her hand but still teared up from the stinging rays that managed to penetrate her skin-visor. Esmeralda had banned the use of sunglasses for all staff members—excluding GR Girls—because they came off as “aloof and superior.” Apparently, adolescent blindness was the lesser of two evils.
“Liar!” Nina pinch-dropped another Hawaiian Tropic–soaked towel into the gray canvas sack they’d been dragging around the pool deck for the last forty-five minutes. Alicia would have called in sick this morning if she’d thought anyone Spanish—or anyone above a seven-point-five—would have gone for a dip or a tan before noon. But clearly the only people sunning themselves this early had been fast asleep during last night’s casting party. And thus, they were ELBRs—European LBRs—and not worth the stress.
“It’s true!” Isobel scurried along behind her sister. “We saw ¡i!’”
Alicia had no idea how to react:
Beg for details?
Scold them for leaving her in the bull-dust last night?
Ask why they hadn’t begged Esmeralda to make her a GR Girl yet?
But first things first.
“Ralph Lauren didn’t offer those in his summer collection,” Alicia noted, staring at the gold RL charms that dangled from the tops of their black string bikinis and swung above their perfect innie belly buttons.
“No, Cousin, the RL is for ‘Resort Lindo.’” Celia twirled her chain around her deeply tanned finger.
No one back home would ever know that. The sooner Alicia could get her hands on one of those bikinis, the sooner she could pass it off as a limited-edition Ralph. She had to have something to show for this summer. And after getting publicly booted from ¡i!’s party, snagging an RL knockoff seemed like her best, and only, option.
“The blogs said he didn’t go to the party because he was mourning the fallen statue,” Nina offered, like it was the final piece of evidence needed to solve a murder case.
“Not last night,” Isobel whisper-hissed while maintaining a lighthearted smile so the poolside pervs would still find her fetching. After all, that was her job. “N-owwww!”
“What?” Nina dropped the gray sack and fanned her flushed cheeks.
“Where?” Alicia pulled a tube of MAC Lipglass in Lust out of her itchy side pocket.
“On his balcony.” Celia adjusted the pink carnation behind her ear. “His arm was hanging over the side like this.” She let her hand fall at the wrist, as if some chivalrous gentleman were about to lead her to the ballroom dance floor. “And we totally saw it.”
“How do you know it was his?” Alicia pressed.
“It was tanned and gorgeous and covered in diamond ¡i! rings.” Isobel bobbed up and down in her gold snakeskin Manolo slides, looking like a mocha-colored pogo stick.
Alicia glanced around the L-shaped pool to hide the disappointment in her eyes. There was no chance ¡i! would ever consider her a beauty now, Spanish or otherwise. Her forehead was slick with sweat, and her feet were starting to swell from the heat. Not even the ELBRs around the pool with their sagging pink bellies and salsa-stained sarongs were giving her a second look.
Except for one.
The pasty Brit who’d gotten in her way the night before was drumming his pale thigh to the beat of whatever was playing on his blue ¡i!Pod Nano with one hand and waving at Alicia with the other.
She whip-turned away. He wasn’t Spanish, but he was decent looking. And she was in a boxy poly-blend maid uniform, looking opposite of cute.
A gaggle of peacocks meandered by. They glared at Alicia and Nina, practically telling them to get back to work. But when they passed the twins, they simply fluttered their spectacular wings like some secret beautiful-people club handshake.
“We better go.” Celia gripped Isobel’s wrist as a barefoot production assistant in a black T-shirt and turquoise board shorts pushed a handcart filled with stage lights and wires past the girls. “The video crew is setting up today.” She tipped her gold Chanel aviators and followed the buff lackey with her almond-shaped eyes. “These are people we should definitely get to know. They’ll lead us right to the source.”
“Good point, sister.” Isobel hooked her finger around her tiny bikini bottom and pulled it out of her butt.
The twins scurried off without another word. It was official. Alicia envy-hated them more than all the times she’d ever envy-hated Massie put together.
“Why aren’t you working?”
The girls turned toward the voice, but had to look down to see where it was coming from. Esmeralda had sneaked up behind them. She was wearing a green leather miniskirt and matching blazer with the same white canvas stilettos from the night before. Despite her heat-doesn’t-affect-me leather ensemble, her wrinkled forehead was beading like a Vera Wang wedding gown.
“America,” she snapped her fingers. “I’m moving you inside. You are too distracted out here.”
“Grassy!” Alicia beamed. Air-conditioning and a break from worrying about being spotted by P, G, S, or ¡i! seemed like the perfect solution to this far-from-perfect morning.
“Oh, and I made a terrible error with your uniforms,” Esmeralda said, handing them each a white iridescent Hotel Lindo bag.
Finally!
Alicia couldn’t wait to get out of her itchy sack and put on something worthy of a Spalpha.
“I’m sure you will find these more flattering.” Esmeralda folded her short arms across her flat chest and waited with pride while the girls tore into their bags.
“ADM.” Nina pretended to barf in her mouth, a gesture Alicia would have found funny if the situation weren’t so dire.
“Ewww-niform.” Alicia winced as she held up a mustard-colored starched cotton dress. The skirt ballooned out like an umbrella, the sleeves were stiff triangles, and there was a black mop embroidered over the left breast. “I’ll pay you double if I don’t have to wear this.”
Esmeralda ignored the comment. “You may change in the broom hut and then make your way down to the laundry room. Nina, you will deliver dirty towels, and America will wash them.”
She clapped her hands twice before hobbling off to sprinkle peacock food on the grass. The plumed birds flocked to her side, and she tittered with giddy delight.
After squeezing herself into the abrasive and ugly-times-a-million dress, Alicia stomped down the concrete staircase and through a door that read EMPLOYEES ONLY. Her pert nose followed the smell of fabric softener to a room marked LAVANDERíA.
The air inside was so humid it felt like she was breathing into a massive, detergent–soaked cotton ball, and she couldn’t help wondering about the effect it would have on her wavy hair.
Looking around, she saw two giant silver machines pushed up against a wall covered in chipped yellow paint—a flash-forward to Alicia’s manicure if she didn’t get some “me” time soon. In the far corner a peacock was nibbling on a pile of sunscreen-stained towels.
“Shoo!” Alicia waved him away like a pesky fly, but he just fanned his feathers and continued pecking.
“Ugh!” She angrily grabbed the towels away from the bird while cursing out:
Her insensitive mother . . .
The Pretty Committee, for having fun when she wasn’t . . .
The twins, for snagging GR jobs . . .
The machines, for having Spanish instructions, and . . .
Nina, for being allowed to stay by the pool, where oxygen was still available.
The minute her father won his lipo case, she was going to sue them all.
“’Ello.” A familiar voice echoed off the bare walls. “Me again,” the male voice said in a singsongy accent. “Nigel’s the name.”
Alicia wiped her slick forehead on a gazpacho-stained towel before turning to face him. His pale chest was hidden by a tattered vintage concert tee showing two cornrowed guys named Milli Vanilli.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in English, no longer caring if he knew she was half American. Her chances of being in ¡i!’s video were the same as Nigel’s being a judge: zero minus diez.
“I thought you were Spanish when we met,” he tra-la-la-ed. “But I ’eard you tawkin’ at the pool, and you sound American.” He smiled, revealing his crooked tooth once again. “That means we can hang out.”
“Wait, you thought I was Spanish?” Alicia felt renewed hope as she pushed a towel tower into one of the machines and slammed the door shut. “I heart that!”
“Yeah, you look Spanish.” His blush revealed that, by his standards, looking Spanish was a good thing.
“I’m half,” she admitted.
Nigel’s blue eyes illuminated, like Alicia had somehow gotten behind them and flicked the on switch.
“I imagine you’ll be trying out for that video contest, royt?” He pinched his tee and pulled it away from his sweaty torso.
Alicia looked at Nigel closely for the first time. She had never been attracted to the fair-complected, but he was undeniably ah-dorable.
His dark blue eyes, short-cropped blond hair, toned abs, foreign accent, zitless skin, and whiskerless chin would make him an indisputable ten in Westchester. But he was British, and Alicia was on a Spalpha mission, not a Balpha mission. And that made him an unfortunate waste of time. Pity.
“We’ll see.” Alicia shrugged, cutting the conversation off like a chunk of split ends. It was time for him to leave. Time for him to stop looking at her in that crusty maid’s uniform in the humid laundry room, surrounded by other people’s stains.
She had considered explaining her situation, but decided that would be too complicated for someone who was a non-crush. Especially the part about her parents not bailing her out. Even she was having a hard time understanding that one.
“You better go.” Alicia dumped half a bottle of something blue in the machine and cranked it on.
“Got some more!” Nina shouted from the top of the concrete stairs. Alicia could hear her drop the sack with a thud and kick it. It tumbled loudly down the steps. The peacock pulled back his feathers and squawked, taking off.
Alicia and Nigel bashed into each other, trying to find cover in the tiny, square room.
“Sorry,” they giggle-said at the same time. Alicia quickly hurried to grab the bag, which was now lodged in the open doorway.
“Who’s this?” Nina entered, circling Nigel like a hungry lion.
“He’s no one,” Alicia snapped. She knew her tone was harsh, but didn’t care. The sooner he left, the faster the image of her in this horrific environment would fade from his British brain.
Besides, he was sucking the Spanish out of her, and she needed every bit she had.
“I’m off then.” Nigel backed out of the room. “See you around?”
Alicia untied the sack, grunt-pulling out towels and pretending she was too involved in her work to respond. When she looked up a minute later, he was gone.
“It’s so much cooler by the pool.” Nina smirked. Her blond bangs were plastered to her forehead, and blue kohl was smudged above her cheeks. “How ’bout I help you with this next load so you can get some air.”
“Seriously?” Alicia asked with squinted eyes. Had Nina actually made a kind offer? Or was the temperature causing her to hallucinate?
“Yeah. Just fill that wash bucket in the sink with water and start dumping it in the machine. Once it’s full, add the towels. I’ll start folding these.” Nina opened the metal door and waved away the heat from the dryer.
“Wait.” Alicia paused before grabbing the tin bucket. “It seems weird to add water to a dryer.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Not when the dryer works off boiler steam.” She pulled out an armload of brittle towels. “Haven’t you ever done laundry before?”
“Given,” Alicia lied. The closest she’d come to doing laundry was pulling the plastic off her dry cleaning. “We just have different machines at home.” She quickly filled the bucket and dumped it in the empty metal cube.
“Two more should do it,” Nina said, smoothing her hand over a clean white towel.
Once she was done, Alicia pulled the heavy wet towels out of the washer and jammed them in the liquid-filled dryer. Water gushed over the top and splashed onto the concrete floor, but Nina assured her that that was completely normal.
“Now crank on the switch,” she instructed.
Alicia did what she was told, suddenly finding her jail sentence less taxing now that she and her cousin were working together.
Within an instant, sparks shot out everywhere. Bluish- white lights flashed from the back of the machine like firecracker burps, and smoke began huffing out the sides.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” they screamed, colliding with the peacock as the three of them raced for the exit.
The machine continued to rattle and hiss. It sounded like someone was trapped inside, punching and kicking against the metal door. The banging got louder, the smoke got thicker, and the sparks flew farther.
“Clear the way!” shouted a husky female voice.
The girls turned and saw Esmeralda speed-walking next to two firefighters and three peacocks. The uniformed men hurried by, carrying axes and dragging hoses, their eyes fixed on the smoking cauldron ahead. Rushing in, they swung their blades and disappeared into the light gray cloud.
When they emerged, the smoke was clearing, and the room smelled like singed hair.
The men explained something to Esmeralda in Spanish before hurrying off, shaking their heads in disbelief.
Alicia watched it all from her perch on the concrete stairs. Had her cousin purposely sabotaged her, or was she just more laundry-illiterate than she cared to admit? Alicia side-glanced at Nina, wondering how she was going to explain her way out of the situation.
“American Cousin, I told you not to add water,” she huffed loud enough for Esmeralda to hear.
“What?” Alicia squealed, her heart suddenly pounding and smoking like the broken machine.
“No words!” Esmeralda pulled a tiny gold calculator out of her green leather blazer pocket and tapped away at its mini buttons. “Just numbers.”
She held up the total, which was now seven hundred dollars more than it had been the previous night. “From now on, you will hang the wet towels on a clothesline and you won’t go home until they are dry.”
Alicia’s heart stopped pounding all together. She no l onger felt like her perro poo–covered Louis Vuitton suitcase or the broken Juan Belmonte statue.
Now she felt like the dryer—all washed up.