Georgia looks at him like he’s too stupid to breathe air. “I’m not crying about your breakup, Will!”
“Oh.” Oh. Will processes that for a moment. It would sound insane to say he didn’t know she cared about the rest of it—of course he knew she cared about the rest of it, she’s his sister; but still, it’s like the full force of what happened isn’t hitting him until now. The full force of what he almost did. She was so young when their parents died, Will thinks suddenly. Both of them were so, so young. “Georgia,” he tries—completely unsure how to follow it up, but wanting to.“Georgia.”
Georgia sighs and sits down at the island, wiping her face with one palm. “There’s smoked salmon in the Zabar’s bag,” she informs him. “It needs to go in the fridge.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Georgia
Will takes her to lunch, and then to dinner at Dan Tana’s; the following morning they get around to the bagels, slightly stale now but still tasting definitively of the Upper West Side. It occurs to Georgia, as she reaches for the cream cheese, that it’s possible they’ll spend the entirety of her visit this way: leapfrogging from one mostly silent meal to another, their mouths too full to talk.
In the end Will surprises her, though: “When did you see Caroline?” he asks, splashing milk into his iced coffee. His voice is so casual Georgia almost laughs.
“She was in New York a couple of weeks ago,” she explains. “We met for a drink.” She and Caro have always been friendly, though Georgia has never been stupid enough to imagine it has anything to do with her personally. “You know, a few days after you dumped her.”
“I didn’t—” he protests immediately. “I mean, we weren’t—” He stops. “You know about me and Caroline?”
Georgia snorts. “Everybody knows about you and Caroline, dumbass.”
“Even Charlie?”
“Even Charlie.” Georgia munches a sprig of dill from the garden, truly enjoying herself for the first time since she got here. “Igotta tell you, William: you are not, nor have you ever been, quite as low-key as you like to imagine you are.”
Will winces. “Please believe me when I tell you I have never imagined myself to be even remotely low-key.” He stirs the coffee for another moment, though all he’s actually doing at this point is melting the ice. “She was really mad, huh?” he asks quietly. “Caroline, I mean.”
“Caroline doesn’t get mad,” Georgia reminds him. “She gets a media strategy. Let’s just say I probably wouldn’t consider putting myself forward for anyone’s consideration this award season if I were you.”
“Yeah,” Will says. “I guess that tracks.”
“Was that the breakup?” she asks, fanning a couple of slices of tomato across the surface of her bagel. “The one you were talking about yesterday?”
Will drops his head back, sighing. His neck badly needs a shave. “No,” he admits grudgingly, talking up at the citrus trees instead of looking directly at her. “Do you know who Lilly Benedetto is?”
Georgia almost chokes on a caper. “Are you kidding me?” she says, once she’s recovered. “You’re hooking up withLilly Benedetto?”
“First of all, please don’t say it in that tone of voice,” he begs, closing his eyes forbearingly. “Second of all, no. I hooked up with her, I guess, though I want to go on the record as saying I really hate that language. Past tense.”
“First of all,” Georgia imitates, “you’re a prig and a grandpa. Second of all, no wonder Caroline lost her shit. I’m surprised her brain didn’t come flying out of her head and careen into the ocean like one of those whirligig fireworks.” She twirls a fingerto demonstrate. “I do love how you said that, though: ‘Do you know who Lilly Benedetto is?’” She pitches her voice low and dopey. “Like, ‘Have you ever heard of an astronaut called Neil Armstrong?’”
Will scowls. “That’s not what I—”
“‘Are you familiar with an American politician by the name of George Washington?’”
“Okay.”
“‘Have you ever encountered the cuisine of celebrity chef Guy Fieri?’”
“Can you stop?” Will asks, but he’s laughing, the sound of it deep and loose and genuine. He has a nice laugh, Georgia’s brother. She only ever gets it out of him like once a year. “I’m just saying, I didn’t know who she was when we met.”
“I am... sure you did not, actually,” Georgia agrees. The thought of it makes her feel very fond of him. “So what happened?”
Will shrugs. “There was a thing,” he says, “with her sister and Nick Harlow.”
“Ah.” Georgia nods, picking at a bit of smoked salmon. “I may have heard something about that.” She doesn’t keep track of Nick, as a general rule, but Olivia Benedetto’s sex tape has been more or less everywhere the last few days, talk of it hanging in the air like a noxious cloud. Georgia would be lying if she said that wasn’t part of the reason she finally just booked a ticket and came out here, a restless energy she couldn’t shake. She was running from something, maybe. But she thinks she was running toward something, too.
“I handled it badly,” Will confesses now. “When the tape came out. I was a donkey about it, I don’t know. And, like, if you pick a fight with one Benedetto—”
“—you better be ready to fight all the Benedettos,” Georgia finishes with a small smile. “I always kind of liked that about them.”
