“The money will help her, too, though,” I pointed out. I hated seeing Amy sad, and I knew that her relationship with Dani was critical. I hoped her sister would come around soon.
Amy nodded and then seemed to pull herself up out of her sadness. “I’m not going to wallow tonight. I want to have fun,” she said. “Where are we going?” She smiled at me, and my heart twisted inside my chest. The words I wanted to say nearly fell from my lips, but I managed a broad smile instead. None of the reticence I’d seen in Amy earlier seemed to be around now, and I was glad.
I guided the car northward toward Del Mar, when both our phones chimed with texts at the exact same moment.
Amy raised an eyebrow and dug hers out of her purse. “Oh God,” she said. “Elyse. The X Plan.”
“You’re fucking kidding me.” A dark frustration bubbled through me. My sister had already wrecked one date with her teenage drama. At the same moment I had this thought, though, worry pricked at my skin. “I’m sorry,” I told Amy. I pulled out my phone to confirm that Elyse had texted us both the X.
“I’ll call her,” Amy said, dialing as she spoke. “It’s fine,” she told me as she held the phone to her ear. “Family is more important.”
She spoke to Elyse, telling her we’d be right there, and I swung the car off the freeway into the La Jolla hills toward an unfamiliar address. A mansion appeared at the top of a long driveway. Like the last party we’d rescued her from, this house was lit again from every window with music spilling into the night. But the faint tinkling of glasses and adult conversation wafting on the breeze didn’t feel right. I pulled up alongside a Jaguar, noticing that this time there were no kids milling in the bushes with red cups, no beer bottles strewn in the driveway. The cars were parked carefully, and a man in livery actually stood at the door with a tray of champagne glasses. What the hell kind of party is my sister getting in trouble at now?
“Mr. McNeil,” the man said, greeting me as I stepped from the car. “If you’d care to bring Ms. Hodge inside?” He waved one arm toward the house, and I raised an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t rock music filtering out of the brightly lit windows; there were the plinks and strings of chamber music, and the noise of the people inside was not raucous and drunk. Something was wrong. I opened Amy’s door, and she stepped out, confusion written on her face.
“What kind of party is this?”
The butler handed us each a glass of champagne. “Let me be the first to congratulate you on your engagement,” he said. “Welcome to your engagement celebration. Please, come inside.”
Just then, my mother appeared at the front door as if waiting for someone to arrive. When she spotted us, she plastered on a huge smile and clasped her hands together at her chest, clearly proud of herself. Oh shit, no.
“We can just leave,” I told Amy.
She shook her head. “We’d better go in.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Amy
Trudy McNeil stood at the entrance to the glowing mansion like the social emissary she believed herself to be, glowing and smiling as Trent and I approached, each of us more than a little confused. I walked toward her at Trent’s side, holding a champagne flute and still processing the words the man who’d handed it to me had spoken. Welcome to your engagement party.
I’m not having an engagement party. Not that I knew about, and not that I’d agreed to. Part of the point of keeping this pretense to a month was that Trent thought he could hold off this sort of thing so no one else became invested or got hurt when we called it off. But now here we were, in a house full of people who seemed to care about Trent.
And where was Elyse? Had her text just been a pretext to lure us up here? Part of Trudy’s plan? Would she really do that? Her lingering shadow standing just behind Trudy in the entryway as we approached seemed to confirm that yes, she would. To her credit, Elyse’s face looked far less certain than did her mother’s.
“Surprise!” Trudy cackled from the doorstep, pulling Trent away from me and into a stiff hug. His eyes stayed on mine, as if he was trying to tell me that he had no part in this, that it wasn’t his idea.
“Mom.” Trent’s voice was cold. “What is all this?”
“You wouldn’t let me throw a party.” She jutted her lip out in a false pout that looked obscene beneath her surgery-smooth high cheekbones. “So I had to resort to subterfuge.” She waved us in, giving me a curt nod and an air kiss somewhat near my cheek. “Hello, Amy.”
I didn’t answer but stood there stunned as strangers milled about inside the enormous house, sipping champagne and nibbling passed hors d’oeuvres, celebrating my fake engagement.
“Well, come in,” said Trudy, waving us forward into the crowd. Several people raised their glasses and cheered when they caught sight of us, and Trent took my arm in a protective gesture, pulling me close.
“I swear I didn’t know anything about this.” His voice was a hiss in my ear, but he smiled and greeted the strangers who clustered near, offering us their warm wishes and toasting us. It was overwhelming—the music and the chatter combined with the enthusiastic clusters of people I’d never seen before in my life. I detached myself from Trent and moved to the side of the main room, wishing for escape, or at least for a few minutes to pull my thoughts together. I just want out.
Elyse appeared at my side, looking sheepish and holding a glass of champagne. I took it from her hand as she raised it to her lips and shook my head. “I take it you don’t really need rescuing from this party,” I said, my voice as flat as I felt.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Trent stepped from the crowd, spotted us, and came across the room. “Ever hear of the girl who cried X?” he whisper-shouted loudly at his sister.
“Mom needed you to show up, and she didn’t know how to do it,” Elyse said, her voice a distinct whine. She looked miserable, and I would have let her off the hook, but Trent’s cheeks were reddening and his eyes were a steely black-brown. He’s furious. At least I know he wasn’t in on it.
“She used you to get us here, because she knew we wouldn’t come. We didn’t want a party. I specifically told her not to do this.”
“She wanted to do something nice.” Elyse’s voice didn’t convey any belief in the words she spoke. “So you could celebrate with your friends.”
I looked around at the faces of strangers surrounding us. “I don’t know anyone here,” I said but then amended my statement. “Except Rebecca.” The tall blonde was crossing the room to greet us, a wide smile on her gorgeous face.
“Trent, Amy. Welcome to my home.”
“This is your house?” Trent said, turning, the fury still in his voice.
Rebecca shrank back, the wide smile dissipating. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head and blew out a long breath, his shoulders lowering slightly. “My mom asked you if she could use your house?”
Rebecca nodded, and her shrewd features arranged into a mask of understanding. “You didn’t want a party.” It wasn’t a question, and I could see her intelligence as well as her insight into the workings of the McNeil family based on the change in her posture, her features. “I’m sorry.” She looked right at me. “I had no idea this wasn’t something you wanted.”
I’d been standing back, waiting to catch a glimpse of Dani or Rob, or Amber—anyone I knew and loved who would have been invited to celebrate my engagement, fake or otherwise. But none of those familiar faces were here. The broad space of the room opened out onto a wide, well-lit patio fringed with tropical greenery. It was filled with older people, clearly Trent’s parents’ friends.
“Are any of your friends here?” I asked Trent, my mind still spinning.
He looked around, but the only people under forty were Elyse, Rebecca, and the two of us. “No.” His voice was still angry, and he shot a venomous look at Elyse as his mother arrived to stand between Rebecca and him.
“Have you seen Rebecca’s dining room, Trent? It’s marvelous. Come look. Amy, you won�
�t miss him for just a moment, will you?” Trudy pulled Trent and Rebecca away by the elbows, leaving me standing against the wall with Elyse; a clear understanding of what Trent’s life would be was dawning as he walked away, the tall perfect blonde at his side.
I shook my head, faintly conscious of Elyse’s eyes on me. If this thing between us is real, this is how it will always be. Trudy would probably try to control every aspect of his life…forever. And where would that leave me—or any woman who might be daring enough to love him? No matter how much he loved me—or would love some other woman someday—Trudy would never stop trying to insert herself into first place in his heart. She would never let him go long enough for another woman to be number one in his life.
Sadly, I realized I did love him. I’d let him win me over. I’d let him find a path into my heart, through the maze of protective barriers I’d put up.
“Amy, I’m sorry, I…” Elyse trailed off when I didn’t turn to look at her but pulled my phone from my purse and called an Uber to pick me up. “I didn’t mean to—” This time she was interrupted by Trent storming back across the room and taking my arm, pulling me toward the front door.
“I’m so sorry, Amy. This is ridiculous. I told my mother we’re leaving. We can still make…” Trent’s eyes widened as he realized I wasn’t moving with him.
“No.” I shook my head. “We can’t still do anything.”
“Come talk to me.” He took my arm again and guided me back out the front door. I put down the glass I carried on a low table holding a potted plant and stepped onto the driveway with him. “We can still go to dinner. I had a whole plan for tonight, and I promise, this wasn’t part of it.”
“I can’t.” I felt a lump pushing up my throat, threatening to lessen my resolve. He was right. We could just go ahead, go to dinner, pretend this hadn’t happened.
But really, we couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that.
He looked confused for a moment and then began talking again, as if words could change whatever he’d seen on my face. “I made plans for a really perfect dinner. And tomorrow…a hot-air balloon ride. I know you’ve always wanted to do that…” He was piecing words together, stammering and stumbling in his search for the ones that would change things.
I shook my head. “We can’t. We can’t do any of this anymore.” The hot tide of tears welled just behind the words as I gestured up at the soaring Spanish-style house. One warm tear escaped the corner of my eye, and Trent’s hand came up to wipe it away. I swallowed and said, “I’ll never be good enough for her. I’m sure you know that.”
Trent kept his hand on the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheekbone. I wanted to melt into his hand and stay there, drawing warmth and comfort from the always-solid security of his presence. But I couldn’t, not anymore. “Amy.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks.”
He actually believes that. I took his wrist, intending to pull his hand from my face, but just the touch of his wrist beneath my fingers threatened to break my resolve. I sighed into his skin and stood frozen for a long moment, just feeling him against me. “I care about you, Trent,” I said, closing my eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, and it makes this more difficult. But I’m falling in love with you, and that’s why we need to stick to the plan and end this now.” I didn’t want to see what those words might do to him. I suspected he might be falling in love with me, too, but I didn’t want to know because it wouldn’t change anything. “Feelings aren’t enough. I can’t compete with Trudy and Rebecca, and if this was real, they’d never let me.” I sighed, finally pulling his hand from my face and stepping back.
“I don’t have the energy for the fight,” I told him, turning my head as a blue Toyota pulled up the drive. I nodded to the driver and put up a finger. “I have too many other things to fight for right now, and I’ll be too busy with school to have my attention divided by this war. Trudy has more practice and more patience. She’ll never let me win, and she’ll never accept me.”
I risked a look at Trent’s face. It glowed in the entryway light, making him look like some tortured Norse god beneath the tousled blond hair and liquid eyes. He was beautiful. But he’s not for me. I took another step away from him, shivering both from the cooling evening air and the loss of his solidity at my side. “I need to get my bag,” I said, moving toward his car.
He said nothing, but walked to the car and opened it. He pulled my bag from the car and moved to the Toyota, where he swung it easily into the back seat. I moved to the open door, and he caught my arm. “Don’t do this, Amy.” His voice was a soft plea amid the celebratory strains of the party inside. “Please. Give me a chance to make it right.”
I couldn’t. And if I stood any longer by Trent’s side, I’d never leave. I pressed my lips together and pulled my arm from his grasp. “Goodbye, Trent.”
Carefully, I twisted the engagement ring from my finger and held it out to him. He took it in slow motion, as if he was dazed by everything that was happening. He held it in his palm, staring down at it. As I climbed into the car and we navigated down the driveway, Trent didn’t move. The last image I saw of him was his solid gleaming profile standing in the middle of the driveway, staring into his hand. Finally, I slumped into the seat, closed my eyes, and cried.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Trent
I never thought I’d watch my life crumble in the form of a blue Toyota Prius trundling down a La Jolla driveway, but that is exactly what happened.
I stood in the pools of light spilling out onto the driveway in front of the house, listening to people I barely knew celebrate an engagement that had never really existed, holding a shining ring that represented exactly nothing as Amy left me. The ring felt much heavier than it was, and when I had assured myself that Amy was really gone, that she wasn’t coming back, I slipped the offensive weight of it into my coat pocket and went back inside.
“Trent, I’d like to introduce you to our dear friends, the Halversons,” my mother trilled, taking my arm as soon as she saw me return. She was oblivious to my mood, to the fact that I’d left with Amy and come back in alone.
I forced a smile for the couple before us and then turned abruptly, pulling my mother with me. I forced her into the room on the other side of the foyer, where no one from the party was standing around. I towered over her as I crowded her into a corner formed by a bookcase and the wall. She stared up at me with round doe eyes and a false innocence. But beneath the pretense and affectation, there stood my mother.
She’d been good to me when I was little, when I was all she had and Dad was working long hours building the business with his own father. Though my father was wealthy when he met Mom, they had nothing like they have now, and Mom really did raise me in the shadow of his absence as he built their fortune. It wasn’t until junior high, when Dad’s company really took off and he hired in help for Mom and moved us to a bigger house, that the newfound free time seemed to turn her in the wrong direction. She became what I guess people referred to as a socialite, and all of our lives became about impressing other people. People like the Halversons, who evidently were eager to celebrate my engagement despite the fact I’d never met them.
“I just wanted to let you know,” I told her, my voice even, despite the anger and misery crowding my mind. “That this party is over.”
A smile flitted across her face, but then she seemed to give up the pretense. “What’s happened, Trent?” Her voice was light, as if she expected she could just push some cash into my hand and send me off as she had in high school. Still, her face showed that she knew something was wrong.
I hated that she could read me better than I could read her, but I guess that’s what happens when you raise someone. “Amy’s gone. This is over.” I meant everything. Not just the party. And Mom seemed to understand that.
She touched her cheek, and her mouth dropped open slightly, “I’m sorry, I…” She looked around as if something glittering on Rebecca’
s perfectly decorated shelves might offer a solution.
“It isn’t totally your fault,” I told her, though I wasn’t sure how true the statement was. “But you weren’t very nice to her. And this didn’t help.” At all.
She shook her head lightly. “Just a party, Trent.”
I straightened up so I wasn’t leaning down over her. “A party for you. I don’t see a single one of my friends here. Or Amy’s.”
A light smile crossed Mom’s face. “Rebecca’s here,” she pointed out. “And we can have another party for your friends if you like,” she said dismissively.
“Did you consider how Amy would feel walking in here? To Rebecca’s house? To be surrounded by all your friends when you can barely bring yourself to say hello to her?”
“I thought she would enjoy it. I know she doesn’t have anyone to throw a party on her side.” Mom’s voice continued to be ridiculously self-righteous.
This is pointless. I blew out a frustrated breath and rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m going home, Mom. And I think I’m going to take a little space, some time to figure out what I really want my life to be—outside of all this.” I waved my arms around us, indicating the emblems of wealth that appeared on every surface. “Do me a favor,” I added, turning to the door. “Stay away.”
Mom had the grace to look hurt, but then ruined it. “What will I tell all your guests, Trent?”
I didn’t turn back to face her. “I don’t give a shit what you tell your guests.” I took two long strides to the door and spun. “Just tell them it’s over. The engagement is off.” I turned back around and went out, driving home without even registering the trip and letting myself inside the cold glass condo alone.
…
“I’m sorry for the part I played in it,” Rebecca told me Monday at the office. “I’m so sorry about everything with Amy, too.” Her voice and her eyes were sincere, and I knew that whatever role she’d had in my mother’s plans had been unintentional. “Your mother asked, and I didn’t see any reason not to offer my home.”
Without Promises (Under the Pier) Page 16