I couldn’t decide if I’d won or lost.
I’d had years to train for this. Every guard assigned to me either quit or relocated. Theo Hound wouldn’t know what hit him. He wanted to play?
Game. On.
The town of Crowne Point is known for three things: my beautiful sister, my playboy brother, and the time I pulled the First Daughter’s extensions out at our annual Fourth of July barbecue. In my defense, she “mistook” me for the help.
The help doesn’t wear bespoke Zac Posen.
Bitch.
We’re a small eastern beach town nestled at the southernmost tip of New York, home to some of the wealthiest people in America. My grandfather, of course, and the people he’d made rich. Years ago, when my great-great-grand daddy made his money in railroads, we’d been one of the first and most important commercial lines, and Crowne Point used to be an industrial hub. Now that stop is a tourist attraction, and my family is involved in everything from fertilizer to Big Pharma. Chances are there’s something in every home that's made us money.
We make the Hamptons look like a trailer park. It’s almost hard to believe we came close to losing everything. My home, Crowne Hall, was as much a landmark as the swans inhabiting our beaches. It’s visible from anyplace in Crowne Point, and from Main Street, you can see the jutting black towers past the olde-style shops.
Most importantly, my family owns this town. People outside of Crowne can’t really understand what it’s like to live here. A journalist did a piece on Crowne Point once and called us an “entrenched monarchy hidden inside America’s East Coast,” like it was a bad thing.
There’s a hierarchy.
A way to things.
You’re either royal, or you’re not.
We have a native swan population people travel from all over the world to see. In the summer their populations surge for a few months. In a few hours, this place would be crawling with tourists and townies alike, flocking to see the hundreds of swans that consume our beaches the week before the Fourth.
“Today is seriously still important to you?” Theo asked, eyeing me.
“No,” I responded too quickly, giving myself away. Historically, the Swan Swell had always been one of the only times my grandpa came home, and he’d come hold the swans with me.
It was a tradition I’d had with my father, and when he died Grandpa stepped in. It meant the world to me.
Theo laughed, obviously picking up on my lie.
I glared.
“Those are so pretty!”
I blinked out of my glare, finding a pretty young woman eyeing my earrings.
“Did you buy them here?”
She gestured down Main Street where various pop-up shops and artisan craft stalls had appeared overnight. During the Swell, Main Street closed down to make way for them.
I touched my found-glass earrings with a smile.
“No, afraid not.”
“Do you mind telling me where? I would love to have a pair.”
Love to have a pair.
I glowed at her words. I have a secret, one I’m certain Theo has forgotten about, and one I don’t want him to remember. He’d nearly discovered it this morning in my desk. I make jewelry, and someday dream to study the art in college. I only ever use found items, because there’s magic in revealing the beauty of what people discarded.
I smiled at the woman. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember.”
She frowned but accepted my lie.
I watched her walk away, disappearing into the crowd forming in Main Street. There was a warmth in my stomach that wouldn’t easily dissipate. When she complimented me, it was so much more poignant than the millions I’d been showered with simply for being a Crowne. Those compliments were like everything in our world, done for vapid, unyielding custom.