“Where are we going?” Annie giggled. “What if Kitty needs me?”
“She has her fiancé. This is our night now.”
She tugged on my hand. “I can’t run in these heels!”
I crouched down in front of her. “Climb on.”
“Are you high?” she laughed.
“Not yet, but we could if you want,” I said, pulling a vape pen out of my pocket and passing it back to her.
“How much stuff do you have in that Mary Poppins coat?”
“It’s magic,” I said, flourishing my fingers. “Come on, climb on. We don’t have all night.”
“This is absurd,” she said.
“You’ve gotta lighten up, Miss Attorney. This is make-believe time.” With a sigh, she bent to arrange herself across my back and I hoisted her into a piggyback position. I handed her the champagne bottle, and she took a long pull as I started walking.
“Where are we going? Aren’t we far enough?”
“Fine,” I conceded, lowering her to the ground. We sat side by side on the hill overlooking the Greenbrier, the wedding tent in the background. I swiped the champagne bottle and took a drink. “If you fell in love right now, what would you want?”
She blew a raspberry. “Well,ifI believed in love—”
“You do, this is make-believe.”
“Alright. Most of all, I’d just want to be their only person. Learned that the hard way.” She took the bottle back, sipping with her hand close to the rim.
“Been there as well.”
She cocked her head, turning to look at me. “You’ve been the other woman too, Obi?”
“You could say that.” If only she knew just how much I was the other woman.
“Two evil people come together by chance,” she said, reading it like it was a headline. “I never thought it’d be me, you know. Being the other woman. As a little girl, I wasn’t like, ‘Can’t wait to be somebody’s mistress!’ But I spent so much time and energy being perfect, that I thought maybe I deserved to be bad in just this one thing.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”
“No,” I said. “It’s a familiar story. Being the golden child gets old.”
“Exactly, Nick Oberbeck,” she said, pointing to me with the bottle. “Exactly.”
She handed the vape pen back after a pause.
“You wanna hit it?” I asked.
“I don’t really smoke much,” she said. “I don’t like losing control.”
“The Tom Petty enthusiast doesn’t smoke pot?” I laughed. “Maybe this is where we need to lose a little control.” I took a puff.
“Fine, give it to me,” she said. I held it to her lips, watching as they circled the thin tube. Even in the dim light, their delicate pink color fascinated me. The tip lit up and she coughed. I tucked it back in my jacket pocket.
“Easy, Markham,” I teased.
She hacked out something like “shut up,” then laid back on the grass, her golden hair fanning out around her head. Her eyes went worried. “Nick, are the stars . . . watching us?”
“Are you wigging out already, Annie? Maybe I shouldn’t have let you smoke.”
“No, but—” she started, her voice choking up.
