The Housemaid Is Watching: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller packed with twists by McFadden Freida

Author:McFadden, Freida
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2024-06-11T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-SEVEN

Jonathan and Suzette beat us to the beach. Even though we were likely driving faster, they didn’t get pulled over by the cops on the way over.

We park in the special fancy lot for the private beach, and when I get out of the car, Jonathan and Suzette are making their way to the entrance, which is guarded by a tough-looking guy in a black wife-beater T-shirt and swim shorts. He’s like the private beach equivalent of a bouncer.

Jonathan is carrying two beach chairs and an umbrella, while Suzette just has a small tote bag slung over her shoulder. Jonathan looks like the typical beachgoer at the beginning of the season—a little too pale, a bit of a gut hanging over his swim trunks, his white feet shoved into a pair of flip-flops, a baseball cap covering his thinning hair. Suzette, on the other hand, looks like she has been going to the beach all winter. She is perfectly tanned, her Cartier sunglasses perched on her nose, and she is wearing a tiny bikini that shows off a spectacularly fit body.

After two children and forty-plus years of gravity taking its toll, my body doesn’t look like that. It can’t. But even when I was twenty-five, I never felt comfortable prancing around the beach in a bikini the size of a handkerchief, so today I am wearing a modest one-piece bathing suit with a cover-up over it. And much like Jonathan, I am painfully pale. I probably won’t take the cover-up off the whole time, since I’m not much of a swimmer.

The beach bouncer is checking out Suzette in her teeny tiny bikini. Actually, a lot of people are checking out Suzette. Even I’m having trouble not staring a bit. When does she have time to get her belly that firm? And I’m guessing she doesn’t have any C-section scars or stretch marks she needs to cover up.

Enzo has his T-shirt and trunks on, and he is wrangling our own beach furniture he pulled from the trunk. To be honest, I wouldn’t have blamed him if he were checking Suzette out in that tiny bikini—he’s only human—but I don’t catch his gaze dipping below the neckline.

“Millie!” Suzette says. “What an… interesting cover-up you have on. I love how you don’t feel like you need to spend a ton of money on a beach outfit. That is so you.”

That was a backhanded compliment if there ever was one. But I can’t really argue with it. I got the cover-up from the discount rack.

And while Enzo has not been checking out Suzette, I can’t say the same for her. Her cool blue-green eyes rake over his body, and her lips curl. And he hasn’t even taken his shirt off yet.

We’re not even on the beach yet, and suddenly I want to go home. But I suppose it’s better I’m here instead of leaving him alone with Suzette in her tiny bikini.

“Did you have trouble finding the beach?” Suzette asks. “We were wondering if you guys got lost along the way.

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