“Yes,” Vivian manages. “I mean—no. I’m fine.” She takes the glass but then immediately sets it down.
“Are you sure? I saw him around earlier. He’s somewhere.”
“I’m fine,” Vivian repeats, and turns her gaze again to Xavier.
“Hello, I’m Xavier,” Xavier says, immediately stepping forward to offer his hand to Vivian. As she takes it, he gives her a firm squeeze and the subtlest of head shakes. He’s skinnier than usual, his face gaunt, brown corduroys hanging loosely on his hips. His familiar pocket watch dangles from his trouser pocket. “Nice to meet you,” he adds.
“Uh, hi. I’m Vivian.”
Why is Xavier pretending not to know her?
“Hello, Xavier,” Peter says.
“Peter,” Xavier acknowledges.
Wait, they know each other?
Oliver slings his arm around Xavier in a suggestive sort of way. Is Xavier here with Oliver?
“So, what do you do, Vivian?” Oliver asks.
“I have an antiques store.”That your friend Xavier here likes to visit.
Oliver raises an eyebrow. “Antiques store? Cool.” He turns to look at Xavier. “Don’t you sell antiques, too, like old jewelry?”
“A little, but I mostly sell nineteen-karat gold,” Xavier mumbles.
“Oh yeah? How’s that going for you?” Oliver asks, with an almost wicked smile. The spiderweb of broken glass at Xavier’s storefront flashes through Vivian’s mind.
“Vivian’s responsible for some of the antiques in the Knox,” Peter remarks.
Oliver glances around, his eyes shifting like a video game graphic. “Cool. Did you get that elephant statue? I love that thing.” He means the ceramic elephant side table.
“No, I didn’t.” She considers adding that it’s a reproduction but decides against it.
“Too bad. You should’ve. You know, I rode an elephant in Thailand, when I was living over there. If you ever want to feelsmall, ride an elephant.” He nods at Peter. “I like this one, even if she doesn’t like elephants. Big improvement from Lindsay.”
Vivian stiffens.
“Are you meeting your father for dinner?” Peter asks, ignoring the comment.
It’s not a funny question, but for some reason it makes Oliver howl. Meanwhile, Xavier looks down at the ground, as if he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.
“That I am,” Oliver says, when he catches his breath between gasps. Then he leans down to clasp Peter’s shoulder. “Listen, we need to have a chat later. Xavier here has finally made things a little easier for us, with the Customs clearance.”
Peter gives a warning with a sight shake of his head. There’s an awkward silence. It seems that although Peter likes to tell her some things he shouldn’t, there are still plenty of things he’s happy to keep to himself.
“Sorry, Peter, I—” Oliver says, realizing his mistake.
“Many thanks, Xavier,” Peter cuts in. “We appreciate your assistance.” Then to Oliver, he says, “We can discuss later.”
Xavier colors, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He won’t meet Vivian’s eyes.
Why would they need a Customs clearance? And how couldXavierhelp them with it? What is going with her friend? It’s almost like Oliver has some sort of hold over him.
A chime begins ringing repeatedly through the air; Rose is walking through the room, shaking a crystal dinner bell.
“Ah, dinnertime,” Oliver says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
