Island Girls Read Online Free PDF

Jenny suggested. “Each of us take a day to be in charge of buying groceries and preparing dinner and cleaning the kitchen.”
    “Only dinner,” Meg put in. “I think we can handle breakfast and lunch ourselves.”
    “As long as someone makes a big pot of coffee,” Arden added.
    “Great!” Jenny clapped her hands, pleased with herself. Arden thought Jenny looked like a damned Girl Scout; she might as well have a kerchief around her neck and badges on her shirt.
    “Look, Jenny,” Arden said, “most of the time I’ll probably take my food up to my room to eat while I work.”
    Jenny tossed her head. “Fine with me. I’ll probably be out most nights myself, at cocktail parties.”
    Arden’s eyes widened. “Cocktail parties? What kinds of cocktail parties?”
    Sensing Arden’s interest, Jenny was arch. “Oh, you know, the kind where people drink cosmopolitans and martinis and the caterers pass munchies.”
    Arden leaned forward. “Jenny, you know I have a TV show.
Simplify This
.” No point mentioning the dreadful Zoey. “I want to do a Nantucket version. I need to meet people with fabulous homes who might like to be on the show.”
    Jenny nodded thoughtfully. “A lot of the richest people wouldn’t dream of having their intimate space broadcast all over the air,” she said, and then, realizing too late that she’d insultedArden, she hurried to add, “But I’m sure some of them would glory in the publicity.”
    “Well, I’m not going to get right in their faces first thing,” Arden began defensively. “I’ll talk to them, get to know them, see what they’re like.…”
    Jenny’s smile was very cat/canary. “I get that. Hey, I’m going to a party tonight, Arden, a fund-raiser for a local artists’ coalition. Do you want to come with me?”
    “Yes,” Arden replied. After a moment, she added, “Please.”

FIVE
    The Nantucket parties Arden remembered from when she was fourteen, and for a while when she was fifteen, when her hormones were on red alert, had been beach parties. In shorts and a bikini top, she’d danced barefoot in the sand with girlfriends giggling idiotically and stealing sips from abandoned beer bottles. Princess Diana had still been alive, and Arden had been young.
    The party Jenny took her to tonight was different. Well, of course, it would be; they were all grown-up now, even if the salty ocean breeze made her feel fresh, sassy, and eager for all that summer could bring. It was held at a house on the cliff. Bars were set up both inside the house and out on the lawn overlooking Nantucket Sound. Waiters passed trays of canapés and a bluegrass band played.
    Jenny wore a simple red dress that set off her striking dark hair and eyes. She wore a sleek pair of red sandals, too, with stones glittering across the straps as she easily crossed the lawn,
not
making divots in the grass. In the car on the way over, Jenny toldArden she’d broken up recently with a hunk named Bjorn. Jenny was ready for a new romance. When they arrived at the party, Jenny spotted someone and, with a careless “I’ll be right back” to Arden, hurried away through the crowd, leaving Arden alone.
    Arden had only her basic everyday beige sandals—she had brought all her four-inch heels for parties, but had decided not to wear them tonight because Jenny told her they’d be mostly outside. She wore a simple sea-green shift that accentuated the green of her eyes. Not many people had true green eyes; Arden did. She knew she looked good, and she was comfortable in large groups, not afraid to be alone. Anyway, it was the house itself she was interested in.
    She took a glass of wine off a tray and wandered through the open French doors to the living room. It was a true old summer house with wide-board floors slanting unevenly and faded curtains and sofas that had apparently been there forever. Framed photographs cluttered the bookshelves, crammed in with golf and tennis trophies and dozens of ordinary shells, no