by Jamie Howard
She throws herself at me, and I just manage to tug my hand from Haley’s to catch her or I would have landed flat on my ass. Wrapping her arms around me, she squeezes me in a bone-cracking hug. “I’m so glad you guys are here. Thanks for coming early. I wanted to make sure I had time to see you before the guests descend.” Turning, she hugs Haley.
“You look amazing,” Haley says.
“So do you.” They eye each other’s dresses in the way that females do in these situations.
Harrison makes an appearance in his black tux, slipping out of some side door. I have no idea where that one leads. I can barely remember where the bathroom is, let alone hazard a guess as to what might be behind door number two.
He shakes my hand and gives Haley a peck on the cheek. “Do you mind if I borrow Haley for a minute? I’d like to show her around.”
I nod. That’s strange.
As they disappear around the corner, Blaire turns to me. “Sorry, I just wanted to steal you for a minute to talk.”
Well, that doesn’t sound good.
Seeing my face, she shakes her head. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just I know that you asked me to keep Sloane away from you and Haley, so I just wanted to give you the heads-up that you’re at the same table tonight. I know it’s not ideal, but Mom insisted that you guys sit at the same table, and I couldn’t really think of a feasible explanation—”
I put my hand over her mouth, muffling the end of her sentence. “It’s fine. I’ll deal with it.”
I’m about to ask where Sloane is when I catch sight of her standing against the balustrade on the second floor. She’s still wearing her bathrobe, and from the expression on her face, I can see that she heard everything Blaire and I just said. Her hand floats up toward her neck but then changes direction as it clenches into a fist. She whirls around and disappears out of sight.
Goddamn it.
I had told Blaire to keep her away from me, but I’d been pissed off at the time. I still haven’t had a chance to thank Sloane for what she did the other day with Evelyn. I’m not sure what I’d have done if she hadn’t snapped me out of it. Then afterward there’d been this … moment. For a second she was the old Sloane again and I’d been trapped underneath an avalanche of resurrected memories. But when Haley had launched herself into my arms, I’d been just as happy to see her. Her small fingers had traced the outline of my face, her eyes delving into mine to try to heal the hurt that I’m sure was written as clearly as could be. When I looked up again Sloane was gone. I’d stopped by Gran’s more than once to see her, but she hadn’t been there, or if she had been, she didn’t wanted to see me.
Now she must think I’m the biggest asshole in the world.
“Shit,” Blaire mutters, her eyes on the empty space where Sloane had been standing. “In the interest of full disclosure, you’re probably going to want to stay away from her tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “There’s nothing about that statement that gives any type of disclosure.”
She shakes her head, pursing her lips together. “I’m sorry, Luke. You know I can’t talk about it. I’m so glad that Sloane’s here tonight; it really means a lot that she is, but you have no idea how hard this is for her.”
My curiosity is beyond piqued, but I don’t push the issue. If she was going to tell me what the hell was going on with Sloane, she would have done it already. “I’ll try not to antagonize her, I promise.”
Blaire relaxes a little, then stiffens right back up as voices drift down to us. Harrison and Haley reappear, both of their heads turned upward in the direction of the shouts. Blaire’s fingers are wrapped around my wrist so hard that I’m sure I’m going to have tiny Blaire-shaped finger marks on my arm tomorrow.
“You think I give a shit what you have to say? I thought I made myself clear. I’m not having this conversation with you right now.”
Who the hell is Sloane yelling at?
“Honey, calm down—” A woman’s voice, her Mom’s maybe?
“Don’t tell me to calm down! I told you once, but I’ll say it again. I’m here for Blaire. That’s it. This night is about her. Not me. Not you. I wasn’t interested in your bullshit explanations five years ago, and I’m certainly not interested in them now.”
There’s a man’s voice this time. “Sweetheart, please, you have to understand—”
“No, I don’t have to understand anything. Now get the hell out of my room.”
A door slams.
Harrison’s eyes shift to Blaire’s and she gives a little shake of her head.
Haley looks at me and I lift a shoulder in a shrug. I wonder if this has anything to do with why Blaire and Sloane weren’t speaking to each other. It’s so bizarre, though. I’d always gotten the impression that Sloane’s relationship with her parents was the exact opposite of what I had. But this, this was like an episode taken straight out of my and Evelyn’s playbook.
Blaire sighs. “Let me show you to your table and get you some drinks. It looks like we’re all going to need them.”
* * *
My mind spins, trying to hang on to all the names that have been thrown at me. Sloane has yet to make an appearance, and half of me wonders whether she snuck out a back door and beat a path back to Briscoll Bay. Still, I keep an eye out for her, hoping that I’ll get a chance to apologize and thank her. It’s the very least I can do.
I take another sip of Scotch from my glass.
“Are you much into the market? I’d be happy to give you my broker’s number. He’s really done a number on my portfolio.”
I smile down at the half-bald Italian man in front of me, accepting the business card he holds in my direction. Haley is deep in conversation with some woman, talking about her classes.
I manage to extract myself from the bald guy and traipse over to the bar for a refill. It’s there that I find Sloane. I guess she decided to show after all.
She’s wearing a navy dress that has all-over tiny sequins. She looks like the night sky studded with stars. The front dips low, where a sizable diamond dangles from a thin silver chain. This one is definitely real, and it winks in the light as she plays with it. It’s the back of her dress that freezes the breath in my chest. Other than the thin straps curling around her shoulders, the entire back is open, the fabric forming a deep V right above her ass. As she leans over the bar, I can count every single vertebra of her spine.
“Hey, Sloane,” I say, inching toward her.
Her gaze shifts to me and then away again. She holds her glass by the top and swirls it, her other hand still fingering the diamond. “What do you want, Luke?”
“Can’t a friend say hi?”
She gives me a flat look. “We’re not friends.” Tilting her head back, she drains the rest of her drink. “Just stay away from me, Luke. Go have a fantastic evening with Sloane Lite and leave me the hell alone.” She slams the glass down, drawing more than a few curious glances in our direction. My eyes follow her as she walks away, the crowd parting in front of her.
I turn back to the bartender. “Better make that a double.”
Chapter 40
Sloane
Time is moving so slowly it’s going backward. Every time I check the clock, the minute hand has barely budged. As if I wasn’t dreading the evening enough, I had to start it off with a nice blow from Luke followed up seconds later by my parents. I told Blaire I’d try with them, and I really was, but they couldn’t just leave it alone. They had to push and push until I snapped.
My gaze flickers over to where Luke stands with Haley. Of course she’s wearing pink, ugh. The only person who should ever wear that shade of pink is a toddler, on her birthday, if she were pretending to be a freaking princess.
A middle-aged woman stands in front of me, her dark curly head bouncing as she talks, trying to convince me to date her son. He stands next to her, his glasses only magnifying the mortified expression in his eyes.
I lay a hand on her arm and look at her sadly. “I’m
so sorry, Mrs. Tryvers, I’m gay.”
I leave her in my dust, chuckling at the image of her shocked face in my mind. Her son, on the other hand, probably would have hugged me given half the chance.
It isn’t getting a rise out of her that made me do it. I did it for him, hoping that flustering his mom just a bit would lighten the humiliation that he was so obviously feeling.
Blaire stands on her tiptoes, waving me over to our table as the waitstaff begins passing out dinner. I wonder if there’s any chance I can eat at a different table. It’ll just be the five of us—me, Harrison, Blaire, Haley, and Luke. The seating arrangement had originally included my parents at our table as well, but I flat out refused to sit with them. For once, they didn’t argue.
Blaire directs me into the chair on her left, and for some ungodly reason Luke sits on my other side. I guess between him and Haley, he took one for the team. What a sport.
“I love your dress,” Haley says, trying her hand at being civil.
I unfold the napkin and place it in my lap. “You look like the bubblegum princess,” I deadpan.
With that comment as a warning to my mood, everyone leaves me alone for the rest of dinner. I think they’re actually afraid to speak to me for fear of what I’ll say in return. It’s a legitimate fear, but there’s a part of me, a part that I try to ignore, that hurts from the apparent ease they show at pretending I don’t exist. I stare at the food on my plate, some fancy stuffed chicken with parsley sprouting out of it like unruly nose hair. I push it around with my fork, not eating one bite. There’s some gaudy floral arrangement in the center of the table that smells so strongly it’s giving me a headache.
I rub my thumb against my temple and check the clock again—8:45. I just need to make it through dinner and dessert and then I’m getting the hell out of here. I’m not spending a single night under this roof.
“… what time you’re leaving tomorrow?” I only catch the last half of Blaire’s question, but I fill in the blanks.
“My plane’s leaving tomorrow night.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Luke asks.
“Yup, as fun as this summer’s been, I’ve had more than enough.” I twirl my fork between my fingers, the broken pieces of me already anxious for escape.
“But the summer’s not over,” he says, his eyes holding mine.
I raise a brow at him. “I don’t know why you care. Shouldn’t you be throwing a party to celebrate my departure?”
Blaire jumps in before Luke can respond. “I just need to make sure I can get your measurements before you leave so that we can order your dress for you. I know you’re not going to be able to make it back again before the wedding.”
I could make it back whenever I wanted to, but I wouldn’t be coming back, she’s right.
Dad pops up at Blaire’s side, whispering in her ear. His eyes take a quick detour over to me, but he pulls them right back. She nods and runs a hand over her dress as she stands. “More pictures. We’ll be back.”
Haley wipes her mouth delicately with her napkin. “I actually need to find a bathroom. Can you point me in the right direction?” she asks Luke.
He scratches a finger across his chin. “Back to the foyer, go up the stairs, and down the hall on your left, second door on your right.”
I hide a laugh in my napkin. He’s just given her directions to the upstairs study. Good luck finding the bathroom in there.
When it’s just the two of us sitting at the table together, his leg starts to bounce up and down. I curl my fingers tighter around my fork to stop my hand from slapping his knee to make it stop. So. Damn. Irritating.
He turns to me, shifting in his seat so that his leg brushes against mine. “I want to apologize.”
What does this guy not get about leaving me alone? He never could take a hint.
I don’t want to hear his bullshit excuses about how he was just staying away from me to protect Haley. I don’t give a shit about Haley. The only thing I care about at the moment is protecting myself from any further damage. God, hasn’t he done enough? So I do what I do best—I push back, hiding my hurt under layer after layer of snark and anger. “Apologize for what? For leading me on? For screwing Blaire? For comparing me to Evelyn? For getting turned on when I gave you a lap dance? For avoiding me? For asking Blaire to keep me away from you? Which one, Luke?” The words rush out of my mouth in an angry hiss.
He stares daggers at me, trying to rein in his anger. “I never led you on.”
At least he isn’t arguing my other points. “Are you delusional? Or just kidding yourself?”
“Neither.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “God, you are unbelievable.”
“Look who’s talking.” He leans toward me, lowering his voice a notch and taking a glance around the room to see if we’re drawing any attention. “You fucked me out of pity, so don’t pretend I actually hurt you by sleeping with Blaire. You didn’t give a shit about me.”
For the first time in my life I am actually speechless. All the words are just gone. My mouth hangs open as I try to digest that statement. I finally shut it when my tongue starts going dry. “What…” I take a deep breath and try again. “How did you even come to that conclusion?”
“You mean other than the fact that you pretty much told me every time you saw me that you couldn’t stand me? Or maybe it was when you fucking saluted me when I was about to get lucky at that party? Or maybe even when you offered Blaire up for me to sleep with?”
It dawns on me how incredibly accurate his memory is when it comes to that summer, and it makes me wonder if he’s replayed those days in his mind as many times as I have.
“How about when I kissed you?” I ask.
“You were drunk.” He dismisses my comment with a wave of his hand.
“And the other time?”
“I kissed you. I didn’t leave you much choice in the matter.”
“How about when I slept with you?” My tightly controlled whisper hisses through my teeth, and I have to fight the urge to grind them together.
“I already told you—pity. I was a pussy. I climbed through your window and sobbed on your shoulder. My brother just died; what were you going to do, turn me down? You were still a human being with a fully functioning heart at that point.”
I unclench my hand from around the fork and let it clatter to the table before I do something really out of hand and stab him with it. “You think I don’t feel things anymore? God, I wish that were true. Do you know what I’d give for that to be the case?” I take a moment to breathe, to try to reign in my emotions, which seem to be spurting out of me. Everything I’ve hidden for so long is so close to overflowing, so close to exploding out of my mouth that I’m surprised that the entire room remains blissfully unaware and isn’t running for cover. My eyes find his again. “Ever since I’ve come back here you’ve done nothing but make me feel. And you want to know the sad, pathetic truth? That day I got a front row seat of Blaire sucking your dick? I was coming to tell you that I loved you.” I roll my eyes and turn away, trying to hide the tears that are welling there. “How big of an asshole am I?”
Now it’s his turn to be speechless. Good.
“You—”
“Sloane, dear, we need you to give your toast now.” Mom tugs on my chair, trying to get me out of it.
“I told you I wasn’t giving a toast.”
“Sloane, we talked about this…” I feel myself reach the breaking point, and then I snap. Luke still looks absolutely horrified by my declaration and I can’t sit here another moment. “… It’s what’s expected.…”
“Fine. Where’s the microphone?”
Luke’s look of disbelief transforms quickly into one of alarm, but Mom misses it altogether. Snatching the microphone, I stride forward until I’m standing in front of the entire room. Everyone goes silent when they see me, their conversations fading out and then dying completely.
“Good evening, ladies and gentleman.” I let my
gaze sweep the room, offering them all a stilted smile. Deep breath, Sloane. Do not cry. Just finish this. “Happy endings, fairy tales, and good marriages—the one thing that these all have in common is that they don’t exist. They’re a fallacy, a myth, a pipe dream.” I motion to Blaire and Harrison, their faces mirror images of shock. “Why these two are even bothering with the whole thing is a complete mystery to me. But we’re here tonight to celebrate their decision, no matter how ill founded it may be. So, everyone, please raise your glasses. Here’s to all the lying and cheating men out there who can’t keep it in their pants.” I lift my glass first toward the back corner of the room, where I spot Nick, then to Luke, and finally to my father. “And to the women who turn a blind eye to their actions and keep their secrets. Here’s to all of you.” This time I tip my glass in mom’s direction. “And of course, to Blaire and Harrison. Good luck you two; you’re certainly going to need it.”
Sucking down the entire glass of champagne, I let the microphone roll out of my fingers so that it lands with a loud and echoing boom on the floor.
I turn on a heel and stride out through the nearest exit, bursting through the terrace doors out into the night. I kick off my shoes as I stumble down the stairs and into the sand. The fine grains are cold beneath my bare feet, slipping and sliding over my skin like silk.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All I can feel is pain—so much pain that it’s dragging me down, crippling me. I’m breaking, splintering, falling apart. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Chapter 41
Luke
I shove the terrace doors open after her. I should leave her alone, like she wants, but I can’t. All I can hear is her saying that she loved me. It’s replaying endlessly, hitting me over and over again until every square inch of my heart is bruised.
I have to know if she’s lying, because if she’s not … if she’s not, then it means I really did break her.
The wind flutters through my jacket, and I peer through the darkness, looking for her. I see a shoe on the stairs and follow it to its mate a few steps lower, stooping down to gather them up.