XX

T h u r s d a y, 21/3/19

Dear Diary,

Settling back on the heels of my feet, I shifted around uncomfortably as I waited for someone to answer the door.

I didn't feel good enough to be standing there - in front of a rich mansion. I felt sloppy, underdressed and completely and utterly unprepared and undignified. This is not how someone rocked up to a totally gorgeous estate: dressed in a large, baggy tee and a pair of ripped-up shorts.

As I heard footsteps pad across the floorboards on the other side of the door, I ran my fingers nervously through my straggly hair, trying to qualm the butterflies in my stomach.

CREAK.

The door opened and a woman, her hair done up in a tight bun and her skirt covered with a black apron, poked her head out. Gazing curiously at me, she stated simply, "The laundry maids go the back way, sweetie," before slamming the door shut in my face.

Stunned, I staggered away from the main entrance and plonked myself down on the porch steps.

Oh my god. She thought I was a laundry maid! What's my dad gonna think if that was her reaction?

I buried my face in my hands and groaned. What a perfect start to a perfect holiday.

Just at that moment, my ears picked up the sound of crunching gravel and squelching tires. Surprised, I looked up to see a bright blue Lamborghini, it's fresh coat of paint reflecting the noon-day sun, pull up and park right across from where I was sitting.

Quickly, I straightened up and gazed down at the occupant of the vehicle in an almost bemused manner.

A girl, her dark, wavy hair covered with a floral bandanna and her deep, olive skin contrasting the white and yellow of her clothes, shut off the car engine and stepped out into the summer warmth.

Flicking off her sunnies, she stared up at me with wide, questioning eyes. "Hello? Who are you?"

Nibbling on my lower lip, I attempted a smile as I responded, "Uh...the name's Jo. Jo Marsden."

The girl's mouth fell open. "You're Jo Marsden?" she gasped. An excited squeal escaped her lips as she dashed up the stairs and enveloped me in a huge hug. "I'm so glad you've come."

My eyes were nearly bulging out in astonishment and I stood there, as stiff and unmoving as a board, until she pulled away and stuck out her hand. "First of all, formalities. I'm Spencer Waldesh. I'm related to you, somehow. Second cousins, I think. Anyways, what does that matter? I'm just so glad you're here! I have three brothers and ever since my mam ran off to the Gold Coast with some banker, I've been really missing feminine company."

I nodded slightly, not sure how to answer her sudden barrage of words.

"Why are you standing out here?" Spencer demanded. "Come, come. Lane's probably in the office waiting to meet you."

"Lane?" I drew back quizzically.

"Yeah..." Spencer's voice trailed off as she eyed me curiously. "That's just a lil nickname I like to call your dad because he hates it. Don't worry, though, he calls me Caesar. He's somehow convinced that that hideous name derived from mine. It makes me sound like a frickin Roman emperor but anyways, let's forget that for now. Come inside."

Stepping forward, Spencer pushed down on the door handle and walked into the house, yelling out a series of greet-and-meets. Whirling around in the hallway, she flung her purse onto a nearby table and smiled at me.

"Welcome to Hawaii, Jo."

XX