Maybe he’d asked someone.
Eight
I wasn’t much of a cook, but the Carmichael kitchen made me want to captain a multicourse meal. It had white cabinets with butcher-block countertops and a retro but modern-looking lapis blue stove with gold accents. “Nana’s pièce de résistance!” Charlie joked when he caught me marveling.
Across the room was an oblong farmhouse table, and beyond that were floor-to-ceiling glass windows that were actuallydoors; when I came downstairs, I saw that someone had folded them so that there were no walls between the kitchen and back deck.
The sun was starting to slip on the horizon, bathing the sky in a pink-orange glow while voices, laughter, and the smell of citronella candles drifted inside; a combination that signaled cocktail hour was in full swing. I spotted Erica sipping a peach-colored drink and nodding along to whatever her father was saying. Nearby, my dad was helping himself to an elaborate cheese plate.
Are you aware I’m sharing a room with a boy?I’d texted him once I’d made the executive decision to keep my Tampax in my suitcase instead of the bathroom’s medicine cabinet.
I am now, he replied.
???, I typed when he didn’t add anything.
Totally up to you, Liv, he wrote back a few minutes later.You know I trust you. And Peggy said Connor is a very upstanding and trustworthy young man.
He’s preoccupied, I surmised.Something else is on his mind…
Nevertheless, I waited for him to offer me a trundle bed in Maisie and Bryce’s room, but it turned out they were in a bunk room with cousins Teddy and Finn. The Lupo “nook” only had one bedroom.
After consulting with Erica, the best my dad could do was offer an air mattress in an upstairs reading room. As tempting as that was, I told him I’d do a trial run with Connor.
Because after asking myself what I was so worried about, I concluded that I wasn’t worried aboutConnor; I was worried about being an afterthought—a.k.a. being cut out of this vacation. Especially since I was sharing a room with the only other person who wasn’t part of Erica’s family.
Now, there was plenty of action in the kitchen. Maisie and Bryce were playing with Swede and the other dogs while Charlie decanted a bottle of wine at the island and a pretty blond woman danced her heart out to the song playing over the speakers. “This band is terrible,” I heard Charlie say.
“They are not,” the blond protested, shaking her hips. “They take me back to Bexley!”
He snorted. “Exactly.”
By way of a response, she threw up her arms and belted out the song’s chorus. I swallowed my laugh. From casually stalking Nick’s Instagram earlier, I knew this was his fiancée, Sage. And based on the amount of childhood throwback photos he’d posted, I surmised their story was a friends-to-lovers one.
Charlie noticed me skulking. “Hey, Olivia,” he said, then tipped his head at Sage. “Have you met this character yet?”
“Olivia, hi!” Sage’s smile lit up her face, and I weirdly felt like we were friends five minutes later. “So I kinda found you on Instagram yesterday,” she said as Charlie glanced at his watch. “And Ineedto know where you get your clothes.”
I tried not to blush.In no waywas I trying to mirror Erica, but every Friday I posted a recap of my outfits for the week. Mirror selfies I took in my room. Maybe I’d done it to annoy her a little, but it’d had the opposite effect, especially after I hit five thousand followers—she’d started wordlessly leaving castoffs on my bed. “I’m always on Poshmark,” I told Sage. “I also have some things from Erica, plus a lot of vintage pieces from my grandmother.” I gestured to my top, a light pink eyelet blouse with billowy sleeves. “This is from the seventies.”
“Amazing!” she said. “Your whole look is very Parisian chic meets Palm Beach.”
“That’s what I’m going for.” I nodded excitedly. Tonight, I’d paired Annie’s shirt with a sleek bun and barely there dewy makeup. “It’s harder than—”
“Please tell me you lit the grill,” someone said, and I turned to see Nick and another guy walk into the kitchen. They looked like the odd couple; redheaded Nick was built while his friend was thin with dark hair and tortoiseshell glasses. They both carried reusable bags withEDGARTOWNMEATANDFISHprinted on the side.
“Yes, Chef.” Charlie nodded, all business. “The grill has indeed been lit. Uncle Paul’s monitoring it by toasting marshmallows over the coals.”
The chef rolled his eyes but kissed Charlie’s cheek once he rounded the island. “Olivia, this is Luke,” Charlie said. “Executive chef, Nick’s BFF, and my husband.”
“Obviously listed in order of importance,” Luke quipped, then readjusted his glasses. “I hope you like swordfish and steak tips, Olivia. We were supposed to have tuna, but there was an incident earlier…”
Sage grimaced. “One of the dogs went counter surfing.”
Prematurely mortified, my eyes widened. “Swede?”
Charlie shook his head. “Greta.” He pointed to the black Lab whose belly Nick was rubbing. “My parents’ dog.” He chuckled. “She always listens, but never follows the rules!”
“Swordfish and steak tips sound delicious,” I told Luke, who was unwrapping the fresh fish. My stomach rumbled, both hungry and excited. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
