Inside, the interior is chic but welcoming with soft cream walls, plush rugs, and strategically placed works of art. I hear laughter from somewhere inside the cavernous house, then a woman moves to meet us. She is a pretty brunette with a friendly smile. Her outfit is designer casual. She embodies the type of effortless elegance I’m not sure I can match.
“Pippa,” she says brightly, stepping forward. “I’m Maria, and I’m going to be your personal shopper today. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”
Rhett places a hand lightly on my back. “Have fun.” Then he hands me a key. “I have to pop to the office. This is the key to the house in case you guys get back before me.”
I glance up at him, wanting to protest, to tell him I’m really not ready for this, but he gives me that infuriating smile, assured, confident, teasing.
“Go on,” he says, and adds cryptically. “Enjoy the experience. You can’t break anything even if you try.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving me alone in the Hamptons with Maria and a credit card that might as well be a passport into a universe I never thought I’d ever enter.
I feel a mix of exhilaration and panic. The dress I packed, the shoes, my entire wardrobe, it suddenly feels like an insult to all the glamour around me. But Maria seems nice, and if all of Rhett’s friends are like him or her, then maybe, just maybe, I can do this.
Maria smiles again, looping her arm through mine. “Ready to be spoiled?”
I force a smile, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We step out into the sun and head towards Maria’s zippy red sports car. As I get in, it hits me that I am not only in Rhett’s world, but I am all alone in his world right now. And it doesn’t feel half as scary as I imagined it would.
Chapter Nineteen
Pippa
Maria’s engine growls to life, and I’m whisked into a world that is equal parts dazzling and intimidating. The East Hampton streets blur past us in a glossy rush of sunbaked buildings, boutique windows that sparkle like treasure chests, and shiny sports cars. Maria chats relentlessly, her voice a constant hum over the sound of the sports car’s tires on the asphalt.
“So last summer,” she begins, her eyes sparkling. “We were on Elliot’s yacht. Do you know Elliot Hawthorne?”
“No. Not personally.” I shake my head.
“He’s the one getting married next weekend? Anyway, the sunset that night was insane. Everyone was drunk on champagne and laughing. The water was glowing like molten gold. And of course, the dress code was black tie.”
I glance out of the window at the sleepy seaside streets. “Black tie … on a yacht?”
Maria snorts. “Honey, that’s the whole point. Swimwear by day, the skimpier the better. And at night, you’re supposed to look glamorous and effortless while balancing on a swayingdeck. Someone always trips, someone always spills something, but you smile, you sip champagne, and nobody notices the minor disasters.”
I raise an eyebrow. “It sounds exhausting.”
“Oh, it is, but it’s worth it,” she insists. “Then there was this other party at Harrison’s place, did you see it on the way in to Rhett’s place? It’s the one with the infinity pool that’s practically an ocean in itself.”
She glances at me, and I realize she’s waiting for me to answer her.
“I didn’t notice,” I say with an apologetic smile.
“Never mind. The theme was old Hollywood glamour. You can imagine the outfits, I’m sure. Everyone arrived in gowns and tuxedos straight out of the nineteen fifties. The host insisted on full elbow gloves for the ladies and bow ties for the men. I wore a strapless silver number that shimmered like moonlight. And the funniest part? Harrison’s dog somehow got loose and ruined half the hors d’oeuvres table. People were laughing, and champagne was flowing everywhere. It was chaos, but in a spectacular, society sort of way.”
I can’t help giggling. “Your life is insane.”
She leans back in her seat and waves a hand dismissively. “Insane, glamorous, ridiculous, take your pick. But it’s all about the stories you can tell afterward. Like the time Elliot tried to impress everyone by jumping from the top sun deck into the sea, and he misjudged the distance. He hit the main deck rather than the ocean. He came out of it drenched alright, but not in seawater. Half of the champagne on the deck ended up in his hair. Absolute disaster, he carried it off well. And it became a fantastic anecdote.”
I shake my head, laughing, and imagine the scene, feeling both amused and a little overwhelmed. “I can’t imagine beingable to do that. I’d have been mortified to have all those people staring at me.”
Maria shrugs. “You get used to it. Or you don’t. Some people thrive on it; some people hide behind a dozen cocktails. But by the end of the night, everyone forgets the small disasters. They just remember the glamour, the fun, the sparkle. That’s why dress codes matter more than people sometimes. You have to play the part first, then the rest falls into place.”
I glance at her, part incredulous, part fascinated. “And that’s … normal for you?”
She laughs, leaning closer conspiratorially. “Normal? Pippa, normal is boring. We want exciting, dangerous, thrilling.”
“Ooo … I’m not sure about that.”
