“Worse than last year?”
“Oh yeah, thinkGrey GardensmeetsThe Money Pit. We’re making it into a hotel,” Ryan said over the steady hum of the music.
Noah’s eyes widened. “That’s cool, we’ve never done that before.” Was he missing all the action, camaraderie, and purpose, or was he content? All indications pointed to the latter, but being there, the uncertainty was rising like the tide.
“Yeah, but they’ve got us in the barn, they made it into a bunkhouse, and the conditions are less than ideal.” A sense of unease gripped Ryan’s expression. Then he blurted, “Mac was let go, you know.”
“I know.” Noah gave him a half smile.
Dahlia felt her posture perk up. She could only assume they were referring to his former best friend and the man Josie had cheated with. Was the half smile because he was indifferent or because he hadn’t known?
The song changed, and it got louder. Noah leaned in, and she lost the rest of their conversation to the noise. She wondered if the break from the house this summer was temporary and if he would return next summer. And if it was only temporary, what would that mean for them? Dahlia wasn’t about to get caught up in more drama. But she was also tired of keeping people at a distance.
They chatted by the bar, waiting for their drinks to arrive. The lyrics to “Beautiful People” echoed through her mind as she people-watched. She wasn’t in Connecticut anymore. She was used to beautiful people with on-trend, posh designer clothing, but this was different. This was a playground for the privileged, the elite who wanted social status and luxury. Connecticut was a bastion of old money, where privilege came with a sense of privacy. And thiswasn’t that. Dahlia scanned for his ex, but Josie was nowhere to be seen. That pleased Dahlia since she wasn’t one for conflict—hence her overdue departure from her marriage.
“Okay, let’s do the shots here,” Ryan said, spilling them as he slid them down. “To my compadre and his novia. Happy fucking birthday, man!” And with that, they kicked back shots of tequila and lime.
Dahlia hid her gag reflex and leaned into him with an easy grin. “Happy birthday, Noah,” she shouted over the music, finally getting comfortable. The fun was starting to flow, and she was certainly overdue for some. His castmates didn’t seem so bad. This sort of good time wasn’t something Dahlia knew much about since she’d skipped over it, but she was determined to keep an open mind. Perhaps it could work if he did the show next summer.
“Our group is in the far back corner. I’ll ask a server to bring over the rest of the drinks. You kids go ahead.” Ryan passed Dahlia the martini and Noah his beer.
Dahlia glanced at Noah, wearing a polo shirt and tight chinos. He seemed to be in another world. “Are you okay?” She hoped he wasn’t second-guessing bringing her.
“Yeah. It’s just that Southold has been nice. Being in the Hamptons doesn’t feel as fun as it once did.”
Dahlia felt her face soften with his confession. As open as she’d told herself to be tonight, she couldn’t help but melt into his words. But she also wanted him to have fun tonight, and that started with her.
“The night is still young,” Dahlia said, coming to life after two quick sips of espresso. “Come on, we’ve got some celebrating to do.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He pressed his lips to hers.
“Me too.” She gazed into his tropical eyes, knowing full well this was a big step for him to bring her here. “Let’s go.”
They walked hand in hand across the pitted, uneven grass. Dahlia continued to sip her liquid courage, trying not to fall in her higher-than-usual wedge sandals.
His group of friends noticed them, and most ran over to greet them. She could tell he was adored, and that impressed her. It also told her that what you see with Noah is what you get. It affirmed exactly who she knew him to be. There were wide eyes from some of the girls, who were closer to Daisy’s age than hers, but the guys were, for the most part, welcoming.
“We’ve missed you, man. Drunk karaoke and nude cannonballs just aren’t the same without you,” the guy with the ginormous teeth and pecs said.
Noah held his stomach in laughter, but Dahlia could tell it was for show. Something in her gut told her so.
“Hey, I’m going to use the ladies’ room. It was a long ride,” Dahlia whispered in his ear.
“Sure. Want me to walk with you?” he asked.
The group of girls on the couch just scowled at her as if they’d clearly taken his ex’s side. “Nah, I’m a big girl.”
“Okay, it’s through those big doors and to the left. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.” Dahlia smiled. “I’ll be back.” She glided across the grass like she was walking on air. Despite the earth-shattering news of Gran’s affair and Rose’s paternity earlier in the week, she was determined to make the most of the night. Burning the sage was her way of manifesting a peaceful night, and one could only hope it worked. Dahlia was crossing things off her bucket list, and a summer night in the Hamptons with a gorgeous guy on her arm was sure to be penciled in at the bottom.
A waft of cold air greeted her as she walked through the double doors. The décor was on-trend, with high-end lighting andwallpaper. The narrow hallway was filled with old black-and-white sailing images, a nice juxtaposition with the bold floral paper.
Dahlia pushed open the door and found an empty stall. She squatted over the toilet and looked at her phone. There was a message from Kara.
Girl, you got this. Call me in the am.
Dahlia smiled, feeling a light buzz settle in. Then the main door of the bathroom flung open, knocking the wall, startling her.
