Page 44
By society's standards, they’re pretty enough. But just like all the women I’ve dated in the past, not nearly as beautiful as Molly. In comparison, they’re lackluster and disappointing.
Nothing wrong with them really, other than the fact they’re not Molly Vanderbilt.
I pull Molly’s chair out for her and look across the table to see Todd and his entire family glaring at me in unison. I’ve never met his family, but they’re all dark and dramatic looking … They remind me of the living version of the Addams family. How does Molly even fit in with these people?
Molly’s family is uptight, sure. But do they have anything in common with Todd’s family besides money? If so, what a horrible reason to be friends.
I’m not totally naive. I realize people often find camaraderie with those similar to themselves—my family not excluded. I mean, we know everyone at our local country club. But we don’t actively entertain people we don’t genuinely like. We’re polite, of course. But we’re not going to invite someone to our tee time just because of their net worth.
Kinsleigh and Kayleigh, or whatever the heck their names were, are still giving me flirtatious glances. When I take my seat next to Molly, I make sure to drag her chair as close to mine as possible, and then I drape my arm over the back of hers.
Ignoring the blondes next to her, I lean in close and whisper, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the room.” Making sure to be loud enough the two girls next to us can hear.
She pulls back to look at me and rolls her eyes, but I can’t help but notice the pretty blush on her cheeks. I wink at her. I’m sure she thinks this is all for show, but she really is the most beautiful girl in the room.
I’m not pretending.
Leaning back in, I place a kiss on top of her head, lingering there for a moment to inhale the scent of her shampoo.
Mr. Vanderbilt stands from his seat, clearing his throat so he gets everyone’s attention. “So glad to have everyone here for Mildred and Preston’s nuptials. Thank you all for coming, and please let us know if we can do anything to make your stay more comfortable.”
Todd scoffs, looking directly at me. He looks like he wants to say his stay would be more comfortable if I wasn’t here. His date, Trudy, looks up at him in confusion. She tugs on his arm and he turns his attention to her, forcing a smile. She grins back and snuggles in closer to him.
Molly’s dad sits back down and the side doors open, allowing half a dozen servers in, each carrying the same silver trays they did last night. Once we all have our meals in front of us, the staff silently usher back out. I wonder to myself how they do that so silently… Like, is there an old, British woman downstairs training them all? I’m picturing a scene from that show Sophie loves … What's it called? Downton Abbey?
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I glance down and see Molly’s meal is different from mine. I lean over slightly to get a look at the other bridesmaid’s meals. Sure enough, Molly has a salad and ice water while everyone else at the table was served fettuccine alfredo and wine.
A server comes into the room with several bottles of wine and a white towel draped over his forearm. I crook my finger at him.
His eyes shift to the Vanderbilts at the head of the table. When he sees they’re distracted in conversation, he walks over. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Yes, Molly didn’t get her full meal. Could you bring another out?”
Molly’s head snaps up to meet mine. She widens her eyes as if silently conveying a message. “What?” I ask, and she sighs heavily.
Her mother speaks from the head of the table. “Matthew, dear. Molly only wants a salad this evening. She must not have communicated that to her … friend.”
The young server, Matthew, darts his eyes from Mrs. Vanderbilt then back to me. Finally, he sets his eyes on Molly. “Miss Vanderbilt, is the salad to your liking, or can I get you some pasta as well?”
She smiles at him but her eyes look conflicted. I don’t know what the full story is here, but it’s obvious she wants to tell him she wants pasta, but she’s holding back. Which leads me to believe her mother, for some reason, requested Molly not be given pasta. My head swivels slowly to look at Mrs. Vanderbilt. Who’s narrowing her eyes at me.
If Molly wants carbohydrates, Molly gets carbohydrates. I narrow my eyes back at her.
“I’d love some pasta, thank you, Matthew,” Molly finally responds, her voice sounding nervous.
“My pleasure.” He bows his head and rushes from the room before Mrs. Vanderbilt orders his beheading.
Chapter 20
Molly
Matthew comes back with a plate of pasta and sets it in front of me. The plate shakes. He’s obviously terrified of defying a direct order from my mother. I cannot believe she told them not to give me anything but salad tonight. I should’ve known she’d do that. She won’t be happy until I'm a size two blonde.
“What the hell is going on? Do I need to have a talk with your mother?” Brooks whispers in my ear.
His close proximity is making my tummy do that swirling thing again. Wow, he smells good. I’m probably just hungry, I tell myself. Anything would smell good right now. Well, anything except salad with no dressing.
“I appreciate you wanting to come to my rescue, but please just leave it be. I have my pasta now, so you’re already my hero,” I tell him quietly, then pat his cheek affectionately for show.
