“What?” said Emma.
“You’re much more…giving than I am,” said Cleo. “You’ve always been.”
To keep herself from giving Cleo a piece of her mind, Emma drained her glass of wine and refilled it.
“But Idothink I love Isaac,” said Cleo, changing the subject.
“Isaac is awesome,” said Emma, her anger cooling from a full boil to a low simmer—thanks, alcohol! “RememberTony n’ Tina’s Wedding?”
Cleo laughed.
Emma had visited Cleo in New York while Cleo was in lawschool and they had attended the interactive off-Broadway show. Cleo had danced with one of the actors, who was playing a handsy groomsman named Dominic. Isaac had made a big scene pretending to be Cleo’s furious paramour. “Isaac said he was apro volleyball player.”Emma laughed.
Cleo shook her head. “Is that even a thing?”
“No idea,” said Emma.
“So I’m going to tell Sylvie about Alexander,” said Cleo. “It’s time. And also about what Isaac uncovered about Simon’s money, though Simon already told her, I think. And then I’m going to go. I want to go home.”
“Really? Tonight?” said Emma, feeling a bit bereft.
“Where is Sylvie?” said Cleo.
“I don’t know,” said Emma. She polished off her wine, then narrowed her eyes to see her mother in the doorway. Donna was wearing a voluminous emerald-green dress with what looked like a bedazzled belt strapped around her forehead, tufts of gray hair curled around her face. A waiter in a slim tuxedo pulled out Donna’s chair.
“Oh, thank you,” simpered Donna. “Well, hello, boys,” she said to her grandsons.
“Hi, Gram,” said Jameson politely.
“I’m your new granddaughter,” said Penelope.
“Nice to meet you,” said Donna.
“You look wonderful, Donna,” said Rich politely.
“This old thing?” said Donna.
Florence and Rashid entered the dining room. Florence wore a purple minidress that matched Rashid’s tie. Simon made sure Mac was settled at the table, then took the spot next to Emma. Emma felt flustered. Sylvie was still missing. Simon smelled as if he was wearing Blenheim Bouquet by Penhaligon’s, a scent Emma loved—spicy and clean, it opened with black pepper and notes of lemon, lime, and lavender, mellowed to a pine and musk finish.The fragrance was a classic—it had been created more than a hundred years ago for the ninth Duke of Marlborough by Walter Penhaligon. Simon’s alluring scent made Emma want to lean close to her sister’s fiancé.
Instead, she sat up straight and refilled her wine.
“My darlings!” cried Donna. She repeated, weepily, “All my darlings.”
“No, that’s wrong,” said Penelope. “Sylvie’s not here. So all your darlings arenothere.”
“Who is this child, again?” said Donna.
“Simon’s dazzling daughter, Penelope,” said Emma. She moved just one inch closer to Simon to breathe him in. Mmm; Simon’s smell made her feel like a guest at a royal banquet.
“Hmm,” said Donna. A phalanx of servers swooped into the room, setting down plates of some sort of pâté in a bone with toast points.
“Yummy!” cried Penelope. “It’s bone marrow!”
“Gross,” said Jameson, grinning.
“Itis notgross,” said Penelope, haughtily. “It’s Grandpapa’s favorite!”
“Sorry,” muttered Jameson.
