“Are you ready for this?” he asked as we walked down the front stairs.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I told him. “I’m not really sure what to expect.”
As it was only a couple of blocks between Amelia’s house and her parents’, we were walking to the party. I was relieved to notice that it was marginally warmer than it had been for over a week now, but I was still cold in my dress and light wrap.
He grinned down at me. “This is the third one of these things I’ve been to, so I can give you the scoop if you want.”
This comment surprised me. I knew Emma and Billy had been dating for a while but would never have expected it to be quite so long.
He was looking down at me and must have read something in my face. “I know, I know—I should propose one of these days, right?”
I blushed, embarrassed to be so transparent. “It’s not my business. I’m sorry.”
He stopped and I looked up at him. His face was red beneath his beard, but his anxiety looked more like nervousness than embarrassment. “The truth is, I’ve been carrying a ring around for a long time now. I bought it last summer, actually.”
“Oh!” I said, pleased and surprised. I knew Emma was head over heels for him.
“I feel like I can tell you, because you’re not part of that family yet either, and I know you won’t leak it—even to Amelia.”
I shook my head. “Of course not.”
He still looked nervous and I patted his giant arm. “Don’t worry about it, Billy. I can only imagine how hard it would be to propose. You’ll know the right time.”
He nodded, but he was clearly troubled. I grabbed his arm again, and we continued to walk. Neither of us was in a rush to get there, so we moved slowly.
“Anyway, about tonight,” he finally said. “You can expect to be shuffled around like a piece of meat, and you’ll be incredibly lucky if you manage to talk to Amelia at all. That mother of theirs is ruthless about decorum. She probably has you seated as far away from the family table as possible—at least that’s what she does with me.”
I was surprised and dismayed. I’d assumed that after the formal lineup, the family would join the rest of the guests, and Amelia and I would get to spend the evening together. Apparently I’d assumed incorrectly. It bothered me that Amelia hadn’t told me about this arrangement. I wouldn’t have been any happier about the situation, but at least I would have been prepared.
We could hear the party long before we reached the right block, and when we could see it, I was stunned. Thousands of twinkling lights covered the outside of the house and the trees and yard. The house itself is a stark white in the Greek Revival style, with large columns at the front. It takes up an entire city block in the Garden District and has been in the Winters family since it was built in the early nineteenth century. Listed on New Orleans “Must See” lists for tourists, it’s gorgeous but impersonal and cold, especially on the first, tourist-accessible floor, which is kept roped off with period-appropriate antiques. The twinkling lights helped make it seem friendlier, but the crowds I could see were already intimidating.
A long line of cars wrapped around the block, and several valet attendants were taking keys and moving vehicles to a nearby lot. As we approached, I saw a flash of cameras as a rich-looking couple climbed out of a limo, and I suddenly realized that the press was here in force. Suddenly feeling a little stupid for walking, I motioned Billy toward the side of the red carpet, where it appeared we could sneak around the press and in through a different door. Unfortunately, the reporters saw us anyway, and I’m sure we looked guilty once we were spotted. Billy helped me endure the gauntlet of cameras and microphones, shielding me from the pushiest of the press. We finally made it past the media crowd and were climbing the little steps up to the front door when someone called my name from the crowd of cameras and people in the press pit. I couldn’t help but spin around, and what seemed like a thousand flashes greeted my eyes. I tried to shield myself from the light, but it still dazzled me and left me half blind. I squinted, trying to see if someone I knew was in the crowd, but a moment later Billy’s arm was around my waist, gently leading me toward the front door.
Once inside, we joined the line waiting to greet the family. I could just see Amelia’s parents from our spot inside the door, but the rest of the family was hidden by the crowd talking to them and shaking their hands. It resembled a receiving line at a wedding, and I had to swallow a little flame of annoyance at how ridiculous and tiring this all was—for me and for them. It was no secret that Hilda Winters insisted on this party every year, and while her children seemed inured to this bizarre tradition, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like for Amelia to grow up with a mother who valued her as an individual rather than an accessory to her vanity. The whole family was Hilda’s showpiece for the public tonight.
The antechamber we waited in was lined with easels full of artwork made by local children and teens. Each piece had an artist’s write-up, very much as if it were being displayed in a museum. The write-ups were amusing and cute, and the works displayed were, at times, impressive. I knew without asking that Amelia had created this little art showcase all on her own, and my heart grew two sizes thinking about how hard she’d clearly worked on it. I didn’t mind that she hadn’t brought me in on this project, as it was clearly a personal endeavor. She always managed to have the best surprises.
Long before we reached the receiving line, Billy was shifting impatiently from one foot to the next. He’d been to this party twice before, I remembered. He was clearly uncomfortable in this setting—even more than I was—but he was willing to put up with it, even if he only got to see his girlfriend in passing. I smiled at what this suggested about him. He was clearly a loyal and good man. I asked him a few times what was happening at the front of the line, and he gave short, impatient answers, his eyes clearly fixed on Emma. His love for her was moving and adorable.
After what seemed like an eternity, the two of us made it to the front of the line. The Winterses were arranged in birth order, from eldest to youngest, including the parents. Ted Winters, Amelia’s father, was first. He is a tall, fit man in his late sixties, with a full head of beautiful wavy, gray hair and a nicely trimmed, steel-colored beard. He has sparkling, kind green eyes and a brilliant smile.
“Billy!” he said when he saw him. They clasped hands and did that awkward man hug, one arm tapping the other’s back before quickly moving apart. Ted spotted me and he grinned. “And you’re here with Chloé!” He pulled me into a real hug and then held me at arm’s length, looking me up and down. “I probably shouldn’t say this to you, Billy, but I think you might have the prettiest escort in the whole place.”
I couldn’t help but color at his compliment, and both men laughed.
“I count myself lucky,” Billy said. “Last year I brought Aunt Trudie.”
Ted’s laugh was a bark of merriment, and I saw Hilda Winters give him a dirty look. Billy and I moved a couple of paces over to her, and she shook our hands. She is without argument a stunning woman, with gorgeous, porcelain skin, beautiful silver hair, and impeccable clothes. She is a little too thin, if anything, but very attractive in a cold, remote way. She had a phony, plastic smile for us and some empty platitudes, but she was already looking back toward the line, anticipating the next group of people before either of us had a chance to say hello. Billy and I shared an amused glance, neither of us surprised by her behavior. I’m fairly certain she hates anyone who steals her children’s attention away from her.
Dean and Ingrid were next, standing so close to each other we didn’t have to greet them separately. Dean was moderately warmer than his mother—or at least faked it better—but his wife barely met my eyes. She was nicer to Billy, but I couldn’t tell if this was because she was more familiar with him or because of her dislike for me, personally. At the few family gatherings I’d attended so far, she and Hilda had regarded me with poorly veiled disdain, but I didn’t want to wr
ite off Ingrid quite yet. It was just possible that she simply took a while to warm up.
Bobby was next in line, and only then did I realize that his children were missing. Dean and Ingrid’s were also not in attendance, but it seemed less natural for Bobby to be here without his three daughters. They were all so close, he seemed incomplete without them. He brightened perceptibly when he saw us, and we went through a similar process with him as we had with Ted a few minutes ago.
“You look fantastic, Chloé. I’m so very glad you came. I know Amelia’s been waiting for you all night.”
I glanced over past her brother Michael at Amelia and saw her chatting with an older couple. She regarded them with fully focused interest, but something in the set of her shoulders suggested that she knew I was here a few feet away. My heart gave a spasm of yearning and happiness. She was easily the most attractive woman in the room, and she was mine.
I looked back at Bobby and Billy, and they were both watching me, clearly amused.
“You’ve got it bad,” Bobby said, chuckling. “Did you even hear anything I just said?”
“What? No. I’m sorry,” I stammered.
He shook his head. “No problem.”
“Happy birthday, by the way,” I added.
Bobby smiled. “Do you know that you’re the first person to say that to me all evening?”
My jaw dropped involuntarily, and he laughed at my expression. He held up his hands, “Don’t worry about it. Everyone knows what this party is really about—and it’s certainly not any of us kids.”
The line of people finally moved forward, and we were greeted by Michael and Jenna. Michael is the youngest son in the Winters family, and Jenna is his girlfriend. Both Michael and Jenna play in my friend Meghan’s band, and they had flown back from tour to be here tonight. We all embraced, and Jenna and I complimented each other’s dresses.
“How’s Meghan?” I asked.
Michael laughed. “Crazy, as usual. We left her in some little divey hotel in Florida when we flew out this morning. It was five in the morning, and she was up from the night before. We’re flying back there tomorrow.”
Billy leaned close to him conspiratorially. “How did you get Jenna in line with you?”
Michael and Jenna laughed.
“Well, as you know,” Michael said, “I’m not much of a rule follower. My mother barely acknowledges my existence, let alone Jenna’s. I decided yesterday that I’ve gone along with her silly rules long enough, so I just brought Jenna with me today when I got here. Even Hilda Winters wasn’t rude enough to send her away, though she did give us some really lovely glares this afternoon.”
“Damn,” Billy said, rubbing his chin. “I wish I’d thought of that.”
I did too, but then again, Amelia had been the one so adamant that we follow her mother’s strictures—not me. I didn’t like it, but I knew she was trying to get me on her mother’s good side. For now, I would follow her lead.
When the line finally moved again, Amelia dropped all decorum and came to me, folding me into her arms and kissing me soundly in front of everyone. She was sagging with fatigue, and her face was still drawn with jet lag, stress, and her cold. She and Billy greeted each other briefly, but his eyes remained on the last person in line—Emma—who was speaking to the older couple just in front of us with clear impatience.
“You look good enough to eat,” Amelia whispered, her breath warm on my ear.
“Later,” I whispered back. I was amused to see her eyes flare in shock.
“When will I get to see you again?” I asked.
She shrugged with defeat. “I don’t know. This line always takes forever, and then it’s time for the speeches and dinner. Then I have to walk around schmoozing people for money. We might get a chance to dance once or twice in a couple of hours.” She paused and appeared apologetic. “I’m sorry, Chloé. I should have told you it would be like this—I just sort of forgot about it.”
She looked so sad and downtrodden, I didn’t want to make her feel any worse, so I lifted my shoulders and smiled. “It’s okay. At least I have Billy here with me.”
She looked troubled and then sighed. “You’re actually not sitting with him tonight. My mother does the table arrangements, and she put you in different parts of the room.”
I had to laugh. Something about this seemed so typically Hilda, it wasn’t actually a surprise. But, before we could talk about it anymore, the space in front of us finally cleared, and Billy was literally picking Emma off the ground in a bear hug. Amelia and I shared an amused glance and a quick kiss, and I moved aside to make room for the people behind me. Amelia refocused immediately, chatting with them, and, as Billy and Emma continued their PDA, I stood awkwardly to the side, trying not to stare at their antics.
Emma finally spotted me and stepped out of Billy’s arms to give me a quick hug. “I’m sorry I got so drunk the other day. I’m still hung over, if you can believe it. I blame that bartender. She was flirting with me, I think.”
Billy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Emma and I laughed.
Emma patted his arm. “Don’t worry, honey—she wasn’t my type. That Teddy, on the other hand…” She looked at me and waved a hand in front of her face as if she were overheated.
“Wait, who’s Teddy?” Billy asked, looking even more confused.
Emma and I laughed again, and then I stepped aside to give them a moment alone for their good-byes.
Finally free of the line, Billy and I fought the crowd over to another shorter line in order to receive our table assignments. When we compared our cards, I saw that we were seated almost as far away from each other as possible. We both grinned, amused that Hilda could be so—at best—utterly clueless or, at worst, cruelly manipulative.
“We don’t have to sit down right away,” Billy said, trying to sound reassuring. “Do you want to get a drink first?”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
We walked around the reception room, looking for a bar, then spotted a waiter with champagne flutes. We both took one, and Billy tossed his drink down in one gulp, the glass toy-like in his giant hand. He grimaced at the taste and set his empty glass on the waiter’s tray before grabbing a new one.
“It’s bad enough we have to drink this crap, and then they only give you a mouthful at a time,” he said. “I wonder where they’re keeping the real drinks. Last year the bar was right over here.” He looked around over the heads of the crowd, and I saw his eyes light up when he spotted it. He looked down at me. “Wanna wait here? I’ll be right back.”
I nodded, and he handed me his glass of champagne. He strode away, disappearing into the crowd. I found myself alone for the first time tonight and suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. Having Billy nearby took a lot of attention away from me because of his size. Standing here alone, I was suddenly on display. I detected several covert and not-so-covert glances my way, and I could feel the color mounting in my face. I looked down at my drink and the extra in my other hand and felt a strong temptation to slam both of them to ease my nerves. The temptation passed, but I continued to keep my eyes down and away from people’s faces, too embarrassed to look anyone in the eye.
I heard my name in the crowd and turned toward the person who’d called it, my mood changing to relief, but I didn’t see anyone I knew. Instead, I met the eyes of several people clearly staring at me and flushed with embarrassment. I looked around again, trying to spot the person who’d called, wondering if they’d been waylaid on their way over to me. It had been a woman’s voice—that much I knew—but I didn’t recognize anyone around me. Far off, almost on the other side of the room, I recognized someone, but she was turned away from me so I couldn’t see her face. Her figure and her posture seemed familiar from behind, however, and I watched her for a long time, hoping to see her turn my way. I was just on the verge of walking over to her when someone suddenly jostled me. Some of my champagne sloshed out onto my hand, and I just managed to stop myself from cursing.
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“Oh, please forgive me,” an elderly man told me. “I can barely see where I’m going in this crowd.”
“It’s no problem,” I said. “It’s not very good champagne anyway.”
He chuckled and moved on. When I looked back across the room, the woman I’d spotted was gone. I looked around again, hoping to see her, but in vain. Whoever she was, she’d disappeared.
Billy came back then with two glasses of bourbon. We both laughed at having two drinks in our hands, and Billy drank one of his quickly, setting the glass down on a little table nearby. I followed suit, and he grinned.
“You’re a lot more fun than anyone Amelia’s dated before,” he said. He seemed to realize his mistake immediately, as his face reddened perceptibly.
I felt a sweeping thrill of curiosity. On the whole, Amelia avoided talking about her exes. She had a lot of them, and I’d learned that in the past she generally didn’t keep girlfriends around for very long, but so far, I’d gleaned very little information about any of them. I knew, for instance, that until she met me, Amelia had never brought a girlfriend to meet her parents before, but that same rule had clearly not applied to her siblings. Emma and Bobby had mentioned meeting exes, and I’d gotten the impression from both of them that they hadn’t really liked any of them very much or at all. It was too awkward to ask Emma or Bobby about them, but as Billy had also been around long enough to meet some of them, maybe I could use this opportunity to get some information. Amelia wouldn’t like it, but the champagne I’d just gulped down was making me feel a little reckless, so I decided to ignore my misgivings.
Billy looked uncomfortable and guilty and wouldn’t meet my eyes. He clearly regretted speaking up. I touched his arm and he looked down at me, his face grim.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“It’s okay,” I said, keeping my voice purposefully casual. “I’m just curious. Amelia won’t tell me about anyone she used to date. Well, almost anyone. I know about Sara.”
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