Ouch, I felt that dig in my soul. Luckily, my date doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
Eliza’s friends, Quinn, Martha, and Sam, whom I met when I visited Carter in Maine, are friendlier. They seem oblivious to the tension radiating from the rest of the table and nod and smile warmly.
Unfortunately, our seats are right across from Jackie. The reason I decided to bring a plus one in the first place. The blonde, stone-faced reason I brought backup.
My manners switch onto autopilot as I pull out the chair for my date, though my shirt collar suddenly feels two sizes too small. The unease grates on my nerves. I’ve done nothing wrong, I remind myself.
“This place is amazing,” Alexandra gushes, clasping my hand with no hesitation, and I can feel Jackie’s stare burning a hole in my temple.
The restaurant is one of the most exclusive in New York, but warm and cozy, more hunting lodge than overwhelming luxury.It’s not a coincidence that Jackie chose it, and it reminds me why I once thought she was one of the kindest and most considerate people I’ve ever met.
Eliza grew up in foster care, her friends are normal people living in a small town in New England, and Carter’s uncle runs a farm. I’m familiar with how it feels to come from a modest background, and to struggle not to be bowled over by the Rawlings’ world. The first time Carter invited me to his home, I was afraid I’d break something.
The bitter truth is that Jackie’s care for the people she loves didn’t fade with time; it simply didn’t extend to me anymore. I wish that would make it easier to hate her.
“I swear,” Logan snaps loudly, pulling the table’s attention. “If you bring up that charity ball one more time, I’ll move my operations to Asia and never set foot in New York again.”
Robertson’s not perturbed by his son’s dramatics. “I was only saying it’s a great place to socialize with smart and socially engaged young ladies.”
“And I’m telling you, I’m not interested.”
“I volunteer to take your place,” Quinn jumps in. “I wouldn’t mind a night of fancy dresses, free booze, and maybe meeting men that are not on the FBI’s most wanted list.”
I choke on the laugh I bite back. The pixie menace has no filter, and I adore her for it.
Jackie shoots a worried glance toward Eliza, but my best friend’s fiancée doesn’t flinch at the mention of what happened last fall.
Carter’s mom can’t hide her outrage, to everyone’s amusement. “Those events are more than open bars and speed dating. They support important causes…”
“She’s kidding, Mom.” Jackie’s soft laugh rings the loudest in my ears, and she turns to Quinn. “Don’t be fooled by the glitz and glamor, they’re usually boring as hell.”
“And I can tell you for sure that some of those guests have had their fair share of brushes with the law,” I say, emboldened by the couple of whiskeys I had at home.
That’s when Jackie looks straight at me for the first time since I arrived. I could never hide from her. The glassiness in my eyes tells her all she needs to know.
God, she’s painfully beautiful. How am I supposed to survive this dinner and not make a fool of myself? Being close enough to see the crinkles around her eyes when she smiles, the rise of her chest with every breath, and hear her giggle with Eliza is pure torture.
I wanted to prove to her, to myself, that I’ve moved on. But even my damn pulse betrays me the moment she laughs.
Alexandra snaps me out of it. “You’ll take me to one of those balls, won’t you?” She bats her eyelashes at me and leans closer to whisper in my ear, but Jackie doesn’t miss it, and her features smooth over again, giving me nothing.
“I’m not a fan either,” I tell her as a half-truth. I mostly attend those events to extract sensitive information from Fortune 500 execs when they’ve had one overpriced champagne bottle too many. And to slowly die on the inside when I catch a glimpse of Jackie gliding graciously through the crowd.
My date is not ready to drop it. She presses closer, breasts against my arm. “I can think of some ways to make it more fun for you,” she purrs.
On the other side of the table, Jackie’s skin flushes red at the base of her neck. A heart-shaped patch right between her collarbones. It’s a warning signal I recognize. It blooms when she’s angry or nervous.
Or horny. I wish I didn’t know that.
I tear my gaze away, moving it to Carter and Eliza. They’re leaning in, elbows on the table, hands intertwined. Carter lifts her fingers and kisses the back of her hand, looking at her withunguarded adoration. Eliza turns, scanning the table until her eyes land on Jackie.
“Why didn’t you bring Will?” she asks lightly. “I’d have loved to meet him.”
Jackie dabs her lips with her linen napkin, then smiles. “You’ll get the chance. He’s staying for a week.”
Who thefuckis Will?
Then she turns those icy blues on me. “He had the decency not to intrude on a family event.”
