She didn’t push but rather waited as the silence stretched out between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable as they stood next to one another, sharing what felt like a bubble of safety for the next few moments.
Reese stared up at the house, where Sydney—by way of Grant—knew she’d spent her childhood. It was hard to fathom growing up in such a massive compound, six or seven bedrooms along with a pool house that was at least the size of an apartment.
She wondered what Reese saw when she looked at the house. A childhood home filled with love and support? A too-big, artificially curated compound where the family livedseparate lives? Something in between, good memories mingled with bad that made Reese’s return all the more complicated?
Grant had always been very focused in the present. What was happening with the business. Where they’d go for dinner. How Sydney’s promotional deals were coming along. He discussed his father with regards to his management of The Devereux Group. He ignored his mom’s seemingly well-intentioned check-ins on the sparing weekends when Sydney was with him in Boston.
“I was thinking about it on the way over,” Reese finally said, shifting her focus to meet Sydney’s.
“And where have you landed?”
Reese slipped her hand inside Sydney’s. “We’ve gotta be able to sell it. Are you okay with that?”
She liked how Reese’s slightly smaller hand felt in her own, warm and soft. She gave it a light squeeze. “United front?”
Reese nodded, an errant strand of that gorgeous hair dropping across her forehead. She quickly tucked it behind her ear before giving Sydney a surprisingly charming smile. “United front.”
And then, hand in hand, they walked into the house together.
Blessedly, they made it to the backyard without running into anyone except a member of the house staff, who opened the front door.
Once they’d passed through the French doors that led to the immaculately decorated patio area, Sydney’s limbs started buzzing.
This was getting real.
The backyard, which included the patio, pool, and a flat, meticulously manicured grassy area, was decked out in blooming flowers; linen-covered tables with a smattering of serving platters holding food that, even from afar, made Sydney’s mouth water; and, to top the ambiance off, an abundanceof well-dressed, middle-aged members of the New England upper crust that Sydney spared no more than a passing glance.
She’d lived her life in the world of professional tennis. There was very little these people could do that would make them more pretentious than anything or anyone she’d seen up until this point.
Beyond the landscaping, which created a beautiful backdrop for an afternoon outdoors, the yard sloped down until it reached the ocean. At the shoreline, a wide dock that could handle at least a small yacht was set.
Reese kept their hands entangled, giving Sydney’s a quick squeeze as they approached her mother.
“Hey, Mom.” Reese leaned forward and kissed her mother’s cheek. Sydney preemptively tensed her shoulders, watching curiously to see what Sharon Devereux’s response would be.
“Darling! You made it,” Sharon said, already gesturing for a server to bring them drinks. “It’s nice to see you again, Sydney.”
And it seemed like Sharon… meant it?
Sydney wasn’t sure of the narrative Grant had hawked to his family, but she had no false ideations that she’d come out looking like the scorned party.
Sharon seemed to hold no grudges. Or else she was toeing a diplomatic party line between both of her children.
“It’s nice to see you again, too, Mrs. Devereux,” Sydney said, tipping her head down in acknowledgment. She’d give Sharon credit for Reese, at least.
The few times she’d interacted with Reese and Grant’s mom before now, Sharon had always been relatively meek, aware of the conversations in a room but generally content to let them play out around her. Sydney was sure she was an astute woman, but she gave very little away.
“Have you said hello to Grant yet?” Sharon asked Reese.
She watched as Reese scanned the crowd of about two dozen people. “We just arrived. I thought you said the party started at three?”
“Some of your father’s associates have to leave by four p.m., so they arrived about an hour ago.”
Sydney would have killed someone if she was hosting a party and guests showed up that early. She assumed Reese felt the same way, given how her posture straightened, eyes narrowing as she scanned the party.
Though Sydney knew the party was likely to be more of an affair than Reese had let on, her date seemed genuinely surprised at the number of people already milling about, patting one another on the back as plumes of cigar smoke wafted into the sky.
“Are you ready to do this?” She felt Reese’s soft breath against the shell of her ear; an involuntary shiver worked its way down her spine.
