Felicity sets down her wine and extends a hand. “It’s lovely to meet you both. Uncle Blaine has told me so much about you.”
Her handshake is firm, her smile genuine. She’s attractive in an obvious way, the kind of woman who knows it and uses it to her advantage.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, returning her smile.
Gabriel nods but doesn’t offer his hand. He’s standing stiffly beside me.
Blaine directs us to our seats. He and Vanessa take opposite ends of the table as if they’re hosting some kind of state dinner. I’m seated on the same side as Felicity, with Gabriel directlyacross from us. The arrangement feels intentional, and I have a sinking suspicion about where this evening is headed.
A server appears with a bottle of wine and fills our glasses. Vanessa raises hers in a toast.
“To new friendships,” she says in a syrupy voice.
We clink glasses, and I take a sip. The wine is good, crisp and cold, but it does nothing to ease the tension coiling in my chest.
The first course arrives, a seafood appetizer that looks like it belongs in a Michelin-starred restaurant. Blaine launches into a discussion about the Italian climate, how this summer has been warmer than usual, and how the vineyards are struggling with the heat. Vanessa chimes in with comments about their recent trip to Tuscany, and Felicity adds her observations about London’s weather in comparison.
I nod and do my best to participate in the conversation, but my attention keeps drifting to Gabriel. He’s pushing food around his plate, barely eating. His jaw is tight, his eyes fixed somewhere over Vanessa’s shoulder.
“Gabriel,” Blaine says, his voice cutting through the conversation. “How’s the interior design business treating you?”
Gabriel’s eyes snap to Blaine’s face. “Fine.”
“Still working on that penthouse in Manhattan?”
“Yes.”
The clipped responses hang in the air, and I see Blaine’s smile falter slightly before he recovers.
“That’s wonderful. You’ve always had such an eye for design.”
Gabriel doesn’t respond. He just takes a sip of his wine, his throat working as he swallows.
The main course arrives, some fish I don’t recognize, with roasted vegetables and a sauce that smells incredible. I take a bite. The food is good in the way everything here is good, polished and a little hollow. Dinner theater, Rachel used to call these dinners, back when things were still civil enough for jokes.
“Marshall,” Vanessa says, her voice sliding over my name like oil. “How are you holding up after your divorce?”
I set down my fork and force myself to meet her eyes. “I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.”
“It must have been so difficult,” she continues, leaning forward. “Ending a marriage after so many years.”
“It was the right decision,” I say, my voice flat.
“Of course, of course.” She waves a hand dismissively. “But you’re still young. Plenty of time to find someone new.”
I feel Gabriel’s eyes on me, but I don’t look at him. Instead, I take another sip of wine and pretend not to notice Vanessa’s gaze sliding over me, lingering a beat too long.
“Felicity’s single, you know,” Blaine says suddenly, turning to me. “She just moved back to London after finishing her MBA. She’s in finance.”
Felicity looks mildly embarrassed, but she plays along. “I work for an investment firm in the city. It’s not nearly as interesting as landscape architecture, though. Uncle Blaine tells me you’re working on a restoration project.”
“I am,” I say, grateful for the shift in topic. “The villa we’re staying at has a garden that’s been neglected for years. I’m bringing it back to life.”
“That sounds fascinating,” Felicity says, and she actually sounds like she means it. “I’d love to hear more about it.”
So I tell her. About the irrigation system I’m designing, the native plants I’m sourcing, the way the garden will look once it’s finished. She asks intelligent questions, and I find myself relaxing slightly. She’s pleasant enough, easy to talk to, and under different circumstances I might even be interested.
But I’m not.
