Chapter Forty-Seven
WILL
Day Thirteen
‘At the Parthenon?’ Lydia gasps. ‘Oh, wow. Who is rich?’
Both Alec and Ollie look at one another, their mouths hanging agape.
‘Well, um,’ Alec begins. ‘Rich isn’t the right word.’
‘We work hard,’ Ollie says.
‘I see,’ Lydia says. ‘Still, though. It’s not cheap to rent that place for a wedding, is it? In fact, I’m not even sure if they allow it.’
‘Alec’s parents used to own the company of the wine you’re drinking,’ Ollie says, pointing at the wine on our table.
‘They sold it years ago,’ Alec says.
‘Why didn’t you want that wine for your wedding?’ I ask Ollie.
Ollie and Alec exchange a warm look, laughing together at an inside joke.
‘Mum would hate that,’ Alec says. ‘She doesn’t like the new owners.’
‘Alec knows the right people because of it. Someone who can get us in.’
‘That’s how you’re rich. You’re an heir,’ Lydia says.
‘You’re Paris Hilton,’ I exclaim.
‘I wish I was the heir to my hotel,’ Lydia says drily. ‘Perhaps then I could retire early.’
‘Lydia’s the receptionist of The Laurel,’ I say to Alec.
‘And are you a nude receptionist?’ Alec asks, his chin on his hands.
‘Not when working,’ Lydia says. ‘But I take part in some of the nude activities.’
‘Such as?’ Alec asks.
‘Water polo,’ Lydia says, the first I’ve heard of nude water polo. ‘Aerobics. Yoga.’
‘Nude yoga?’ Sam asks. ‘I wouldn’t mind trying that.’
I try to get the thought of Sam doing a naked cat cow out of my head because that’s a distraction I don’t need right now.
‘And Tim and Jemima are guests,’ I say.
‘We painted his member,’ Tim says to Ollie.
‘You painted his… what?’
‘His member.’ Tim almost shouts this, as if Ollie couldn’t hear him from across the table. ‘At the life drawing class Lydia introduced us to.’
‘Life drawing?’ Ollie looks at me. ‘You went to a life drawing class?’
‘I was the model,’ I say.
