I shrug. “Maybe.”
“A cabin in Alaska.”
“It’s on the table.”
She looks back at Wesley, and I see the moment she decides he’s worth the compromise. “You drive a hard bargain, Wesley Kane.”
“Learned from the best,” he says, nodding at Tom, who’s just returning with my father.
“Deal accepted,” Mother announces, extending her hand like she’s closing a merger. “I get the engagement weekend. You get your intimate wedding. But—” she adds, because of course there’s a but, “I’m hosting a reception afterward. Nothing absurd. Just…a small celebration.”
“How small?” I ask suspiciously.
“Two hundred. Maybe two-fifty.”
“Mother!”
“That’s small!” she protests. “Your cousin Margot had four hundred at hers.”
Wesley laughs—actually laughs—and takes her hand. “Deal, Serena. Engagement weekend is yours. Wedding reception too. We’ll show up and smile for the cameras.”
“And dance,” she adds. “There will be dancing.”
“I’ll even wear a tux,” he promises.
“With a proper tie.”
“Clip-on.”
“Wesley Kane, so help me?—”
“Kidding.” He grins. “Real tie. Scout’s honor.”
She lifts her glass again, triumphant. “Excellent. Engagement weekend, my small post-wedding reception, andyourtiny ceremony. Everyone gets something.”
“Compromise,” Wesley says. “Miracles do happen.”
Tom clears his throat from the doorway, Scotch-warmed and looking lighter than he has all morning. “Did I just hear you negotiate a wedding deal?”
“Engagement party,” Wesley corrects. “She gets the party. We get the wedding.”
“Smart,” Tom says, nodding at Serena with new respect. “Divide the territory.”
“Exactly,” Mother says, pleased. Then to Anne, “We’ll need to coordinate on guest lists. I’ll have my assistant send you the spreadsheet.”
“Spreadsheet,” Anne repeats faintly.
“Color-coded by relationship tier.”
“Of course it is,” I mutter.
Lila leans close. “He’s fun. Too bad they don’t make them like that on the Upper East Side.”
I arch a brow. “Glad we could provide a show,” I whisper back.
“Oh, this isn’t a show,” Lila says, eyes twinkling. “This is Mother respecting someone enough to negotiate. That’s rare.”
She’s right. Mother doesn’t negotiate. She directs. The fact that she’s compromising with Wesley means she’s accepted him—not just as my fiancé, but as someone who can hold his own in our world.
