How was I meant to give up on that when I’d never felt it with anyone else? Even knowing with all my heart and soul that it was never going to happen.
Theo didn’t look at me like that. Theo liked glamour, people who were larger than life. People who stood out in a crowd, who sparkled. Who were beautiful and interesting and impressive.
I was a junior archivist who was not about to win any beauty contests and sourced all my sweaters from Goodwill. My life was quiet and unremarkable, and I liked it that way.
Ellie huffed. “Well, at least he knows,” she said. “So you said yes, then? You’re going to the wedding.”
I sighed again, leaning against the bookshelf. We weren’t supposed to, but I needed the support. Especially because…
“I said yes. Which, uh. Actually means I need to ask you a favor.”
4
THEO
“If you go in there lookinglike that, she’ll smell the blood in the water and eat you alive,” Madelaine whispered in my ear as the house came into view.
Montauk was as beautiful as ever. Streaks of white cloud hung over the steel blue of the lake, the golden afternoon light glinting off the rippling waves like a handful of spilled glitter, the salted breeze keeping the worst of the summer heat at bay.
The only reason I hadn’t thrown up was because I couldn’t bring myself to ask Madelaine’s boyfriend—Cameron—to pull the car over so I could. Now that the house was within view on the other side of the water, I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t throw upinthe car.
If that happened, I was walking into the Atlantic and not coming back.
I shouldn’t have accepted the ride with the two of them. Simon hadn’t been able to get today—Thursday—off after all, so he couldn’t leave the city until after work. I would’ve been happy to delay my arrival as long as possible, but when I’d told my mother I’d have to, she’d told me Madelaine would be picking me up.
There’d been no arguing with that.
On the plus side, Cameron drove like a short-sighted nonagenarian who’d been in several car accidents already, so we hadn’t exactly made great time. One point in his favor.
“She’ll eat me alive anyway,” I said, staring out at familiar scenery.
My mother was a saint, if you asked around. Her charity dinners raised fortunes every year for the arts and culture. She’d raised one daughter—Madelaine—to be a heart surgeon and the other—Delilah—to be the sparkling jewel of the social scene.
There was also me. The editor. Not as impressive as a heart surgeon, not as easily toted out at gala dinners to smile and shake hands and take selfies with. TheotherHargrave kid.
Occasionally, I’d be involved with a book her friends approved of, which was, as far as I knew, the only reason she hadn’t changed my name and shipped me off to Iceland.
That possibly wasn’t fair. Viewed from the right angle, everything she did, she did because she loved me.
It was just that bending my neck to just the right angle made it a little hard to breathe.
Madelaine nudged my knee with her own as Cameron—a corporate lawyer wearing a watch worth more than some small apartments—pulled into the drive.
“She’ll be busy with Delilah,” Madelaine said. “Just don’t make it so obvious you’re terrified of her and it won’t set off her hunting instincts.”
I didn’t for a second think that was true, but I appreciated the attempt at reassurance.
Mom had told me this was going to be anintimate family wedding, hence having it at the summer house, and the number of cars in the drive suggested that for once, both of our definitions ofintimatemore or less lined up.
I’d just gotten my bag out of the back of Cameron’s yellow Porsche—a car that made him stand out as a nouveau riche interloper amongst the small black-and-silver BMW and Mercedes-Benz fleet otherwise present—when I heard the unmistakable sound of stiletto heels crunching on gravel.
“Theo? Is thatyou?”
I’d expected Delilah—my mother would never have rushed over to greet anyone, let alone worn stilettos before nine—but instead turned to find Audrey Carfax, wearing a shimmery silver dress it looked like she might’ve been sewn into and heels that mademyankles nervous. Audrey was one of Delilah’s…friendswasn’t the word for it. Entourage, maybe. She’d gone wherever Delilah did in high school. I remembered her being here every summer until we stopped doing family summers.
She’d never voluntarily addressed me in my life before now. Which made the broad smile she gave me, showing off what felt like too many unnaturally straight, white teeth, a little alarming.
The way she looked me up and down with a speculative glint in her eyes didn’t make me any more comfortable. Nor did the way the corner of her bright red lips quirked when her gaze reached my face again.
