Lizzy sighed. “Pipes, you were our valedictorian.”
“That doesn’t matter when you’re writing a two-hundred-page dissertation and—”
Lizzy’s phone began vibrating across the bar. She reached for it, quickly flipping it over to see the screen illuminated with a text message from Tristan in the center.
“Is it Tristan?” Piper said, craning her neck to see. “What does it say?”
Lizzy picked it up before either Piper or Jane could see the message.
TRISTAN
Hey! Crazy with work. Maybe we can grab a drink next time I’m in town
“He says he’s been really busy with work,” she finally said.
“Well, that’s good, right?” Jane said. The manufactured levity in her voice was painfully obvious.
Lizzy nodded. “And he says we should grab a drink next time he’s out here.”
“I knew it!” Piper exclaimed. “And then there’s the party at his place in September. You’re going to that, right?”
Lizzy didn’t have the courage to admit she hadn’t been invited. He hadn’t even mentioned it. So instead, she just said, “Right.”
“It’s all working out,” Piper said, raising her glass of water. “To Boston. To Montauk. And to… HamptonFest!”
Jane laughed. Lizzy tried to as well. She really did. But she couldn’t help feeling that the ground was beginning to erode around her feet. The world was washing out to sea and leaving her behind.
CHAPTER 17
August was proverbial hell. The heat wave that hit East Hampton made it feel quite literal—temperatures averaged over ninety-five degrees for eighteen days straight, and the asphalt on Main Street was actually melting—but for Lizzy, her misery had more to do with the monotony that permeated each day. The same routine at work every morning, the same people at the Lodge every night.
It didn’t help that her mother and Donna Donato held court at the table by the bakery’s front window almost every day, either.
“Oh, you’re terrible, Joanne!” Donna cackled.
At the counter, Lizzy tried to ignore them, focusing instead on her book.
“I’m serious, Donna. If he gets Bon Jovi, I’ll just die. Right there in the middle of HamptonFest. Dead,” her mother said.
Lizzy glanced over at her watch. Just twenty-seven minutes until Kitty took over her shift and she could go home to nap. Less than a half hour to cover the register, to ignore how her jean shorts and the Cure T-shirt stuck to her body thanks to their feeble air conditioner. She could do this. Piece of cake.
“No, but seriously, what about that Tristan Cole?” her mothercontinued in her worst stage whisper. “If he says he knows Jon Bon Jovi, can you even imagine who else will be there?”
Lizzy groaned. Maybe not.
“Well, he apparently invited a few people to this big party at his apartment in the city in a few weeks, so maybe we’ll find out,” Donna said, punctuating it with a tittering laugh.
“Lizzy!” Mrs. Bennet yelled as if her daughter wasn’t leaning against the counter five feet away. “You’re close to Tristan Cole, aren’t you? Are you going to this party?”
Nope, Lizzy wanted to say.In fact, he hasn’t even bothered to follow up about the meet-up we were supposed to have last month.But she didn’t say that. She just offered a long sigh as she closed her book and pretended to be in deep thought.
“I’ll have to check my diary. It’s so hard to keep up with all the social engagements these days…”
Her mother frowned. “I’ll take that as a no.”
Lizzy gave her a saccharine smile just as Donna’s phone rang.
“Oh! It’s Barb!” she squealed.
