Zack approached her with the towel, hesitated a moment, then draped it over her shoulders. “Thanks,” she said. She pulled it around her more tightly and shivered again, suddenly freezing.
“I hate to be that guy, but do you, uh, want to get out of those wet clothes?” Zack asked.
Olivia snorted.
“I can find something for you to change into,” he added quickly.
She shook her head. Borrowing towels was one thing. Wrapping her naked body in Mrs. Varick’s bathrobe was quite another.
“Fine, but at least let me build a fire.”
Olivia surveyed the fireplace, which still contained ashes from last summer’s final use. “Not a good idea,” she said. “Even my stepfather can’t afford to pay for damages if we burn down their house.” Zack raised his eyebrows. “Okay, fine, he can. But that’s no reason to take that risk. It probably hasn’t been used in a year, and the chimney probably needs to be cleaned. It’s too much of a fire risk.”
“Can you stop thinking like a lawyer for five minutes?” Zack bent over and transferred a few logs from a nearby basket into the hearth, then he stuck his head into the fireplace and craned his head to look up. “Flue’s open. Should be fine.” Without waiting for Olivia to respond, he took a few pieces ofnewspaper from a stack against the wall, crumpled them into balls, stuck them under the logs, then took a match from the mantel and lit it with practiced dexterity that alleviated some of her anxiety. She watched the paper catch fire then slowly spread to the bark above. A few minutes later, the logs were burning properly.
Olivia scooted closer to the fire, relishing the heat of the crackling flames. “Thank you,” she said quietly, without looking at Zack, who was still standing, admiring his handiwork.
“Anytime.” He started to lower himself back to the floor, then changed his mind and sat on the couch instead.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hold you hostage forever. As soon as the rain starts to let up, we can head to one of the other houses. We’ll find someone with a phone eventually.”
“You’re not holding me hostage,” Zack said with a smile. “We’re having an adventure.”
“Right. I’m sure you’re thrilled to spend a chunk of your best friend’s wedding weekend stranded on a random island instead of getting drunk with the other groomsmen.”
“Have you met Jonathan’s cousins? I’m good here. I’ve got everything I need.” He pulled his waterlogged paperback out of his pocket.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Give it a rest. There’s no one for you to show off for here. You don’t have to pretend to like Edith Wharton.”
“But I do like Edith Wharton.”
“Uh-huh, sure. You’re definitely not carrying that around to impress the women you wanted to meet this weekend. Not that it matters. Marigold’s friends might pose with books on Instagram, but they don’t actually read them.”
“For your information, I had a great conversation about books last night.”
“Oh yeah? With who?”
“Your finance bro pal’s girlfriend. Emerson? We talked about the new Zadie Smith in line for the raw bar.”
“You mean she didn’t want to discussWalden?”
“That’s Thoreau, not Emerson. And it’s not exactly her fault her parents gave her a pretentious name, is it?”
“Are you kidding me? Her name’sEmily. She changed it to Emerson when she started modeling.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yup.” Olivia had done a deep dive on Google last night, a binge that left her feeling worse than the four glasses of champagne she’d accidentally consumed. Despite her obnoxious name, Emerson was undeniably impressive: she’d recently argued at the Hague in support of new protections for women in war zones, and published an article in theAtlanticabout the link between sex trafficking and the fashion world. “Did she… did she use the wordgirlfriend? I thought she was just his date.” The question slipped out before she had a chance to stop herself, as if the rain had washed away her final shred of dignity.
Zack smirked. “Ohhhh… sothat’swhy you seemed so angry last night,” he continued. “And why you got so trashed.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” Olivia said dryly.
The amusement on Zack’s face faded, and he slid down off the couch to join her on the floor. “Sorry,” he said. “I know things are tough right now.”
“Things aren’t tough. I’mfine.”
“I just meant… the stuff with your mom. It can’t be easy.”
