CHAPTER 21
Alot of big life moments were happening in rapid succession.
My first time being grounded.
My last day of high school.
My eighteenth birthday.
Graduation.
And, in between the last two, confessing to Beck. Again.
And, in between that, finally meeting Carter’s parents for the first time.
It was strange to think back to the beginning of the month, when I’d plotted and planned every inch of Senior Night to introduce myself to Dr. Pembleton. Now, I felt nervous to meet him, but the nerves were more about impressing them for Carter’s sake, not mine.
I smoothed my hand down the front of my milky white Malstoni gown, flattening out a nonexistent wrinkle in the silk fabric. It was a gift from my parents, one I’d found laid out on the kitchen table this morning. A dress for me, a suit jacket for Jamie. M-A-L-S-T-O-N-I.
A suit jacket that Jamie promptly ditched when we got to Alderton-Du Ponte.
“You don’t think this is too much?” he asked as we ventured into the ballroom, his expression a slight twist of distaste. He had on a loose white button-down tucked into a pair of trousers. “It’s… a lot.”
Alderton-Du Ponte had its own in-house team that handled every event, from black-tie fundraisers to its deceptively casual Mimosa Mornings.
Mrs. Conan had assured Mom we wouldn’t need to lift a finger—and she hadn’t been exaggerating.
They’d completely transformed the ballroom.
White and gold balloons traced the perimeter in airy clusters, some left to drift toward the glass-paneled ceiling, their ribbons cascading down.
Round tables were arranged across the floor with thoughtful spacing, dressed in rich gold linens and centered with low arrangements of white florals that felt more curated than decorative.
And along the far wall, just beyond the entryway, oversized balloons spelled out Happy Birthday, Nellie and Jamie—simple in concept, but styled in a way that it felt polished rather than childish.
And, of course, there was a DJ in the far left corner, like Ms. Jennings’s party, but opting for Taylor Swift instead of Flo Rida.
“It’s perfectly enough,” Daisy argued, folding her arms over her chest. She wore a light-yellow knee-length dress, one that poofed out a bit. She had heels on, but she still came up under Jamie’s chin. “It’s elegance mixed with fun.”
“It’s my birthday, too,” he argued, trying to seem grumpier than I knew he was. “Shouldn’t it be what I want too?”
“If we had it your way, the party would be in the library. And you’d be shushing people the entire time.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Daisy swatted at his shoulder, and the grin he’d been smothering finally popped out. “It’s perfect, Nellie,” Daisy said to me, but leaned against Jamie’s side. “Perfect for Operation Birthday.”
We shared a determined nod.
Jamie glanced between us, frowning. “That’s what yesterday was about? Another strategy planning without me?”
Daisy wrapped her arm around Jamie’s. “Come on, book boy. Let’s go get a drink before people start showing up.”
“Dad texted that he’s en route from grabbing the cake,” Mom said as she came up to me. She was dressed in one of her favorite dresses, a light blue Gilfman from a few years back. Not quite dressy enough for fundraisers, but perfect for a birthday party. “Should be here soon.”
“What took so long?” Dad had left before four to pick up the cake. It was almost six.
Mom hesitated. “The bakery needed a bit more time. Nothing major.”
Unease nipped at me. “He is coming, right?”
“Of course, of course. Just a little delayed, is all.” Mom combed her fingers through my hair, smoothing out the strands, and I held perfectly still. Her attention helped put me at ease. “But go easy on him tonight, mm?”
“T-R-U-C-E,” I spelled for Mom. “We already apologized. And I’m still working on righting the other wrong. But I think tonight… I’ll be able to do it tonight.”
A slight crease formed between Mom’s brows, like she was about to frown, but held herself back. “At your party?”
If all goes to plan, I thought. Not exactly.
After Daisy cleaned up her little brother’s throw-up yesterday, we’d devised a strategy, going over it again and again until we couldn’t find any missteps.
The Pembletons would show, and I’d convince them that Carter and I were dating.
Then Ms. Jennings would arrive with Beck in tow, and toward the end of the night, I’d ask him to come out with me into the garden.
That way, we’d be away from anyone eavesdropping.
I’m sorry I hurt you before, I’d tell him, with the moon and outdoor lights brightening my eyes. I’m sorry I didn’t choose you before, but I’m choosing you now. I still like you, Beck. You never had to remind me how to like someone, because I’ve never stopped liking you.
Foolproof.
Hopefully.
Guests started arriving, and Mom dragged me over to greet them.
Even though it was technically a private party, there was always a standing invitation for any Alderton-Du Ponte members who wanted to come, and they did.
The Hollands, the Conans, and the Flannigans arrived, as well as friends from school, and the ballroom began to fill with chatter.
“Eleanor, oh, you look beautiful!” Ms. Jennings came through the ballroom door wearing a deep navy gown, one that had a higher slit than I would’ve expected. She reached for my hands. “You look just like your mother. Both stunning!”
I smiled under her attention, but I couldn’t keep my eyes from straying over her shoulder. The space behind her was empty. “Thank you, Ms. Jennings. And thank you for coming.” Where’s Beck?
“Don’t begrudge my empty hands. My checkbook carries large quantities!” She winked at me before reaching for Mom’s arm. “Alice, they just outdid themselves on the ballroom, didn’t they? Did my party look this luxurious? I find I don’t remember.”
“Probably all those tequila tastings,” Mom said, patting Ms. Jennings’s knuckles. “Did Beck come with you? I’m sure Jamie would be grateful for another boy his age.”
Ms. Jennings looked behind her, as if just realizing she wasn’t followed. “Oh, he’s around here somewhere. He drove. I think that Johnson girl caught him in the lobby, but—” She let out a tsk. “He’ll be along at some point.”
I hadn’t been expecting Lydia to show. I hadn’t expected her to butt in with Beck either. Carter, sure, but not Beck. It didn’t change anything necessarily, but she’d be a variable to watch out for now. I started to walk away from the doorway, scanning the space for Daisy to keep her updated.
A hand caught mine from behind, turning me back. Carter smiled down at me, but there was a strain behind it. “Happy birthday, darling,” he mused, and then pulled me into a hug.
I let out a little breath as he crushed me to him, but I knew why there was a sudden display of PDA.
Over his shoulder, Carter’s parents walked into view, with Lydia hanging off his mother’s arm.
I pressed my palms against the back of his suit jacket, drawing in a deep breath of his thick cologne. “Thank you.”
G-A-M-E O-N.
Carter looked like the perfect blend of his parents.
His mother was blonde, and his father had dark brown hair, so it made sense that Carter’s was a sandy color.
He was thin like his mother but tall like his father, with their facial features mixing perfectly on his face.
My eyes lingered on Dr. Pembleton, the man I’d planned to meet ever since I’d learned of him.
He was tall and broad, but there was a lightness to his expression as if he were on the verge of smiling.
Mrs. Pembleton, however, had no smile in sight. “Happy birthday, Eleanor,” she mused, stepping forward and stretching out a pale blue present wrapped in a dark blue bow. “Carter helped us pick out something you’d like.”
A flash of discomfort flashed across Carter’s expression, hinting at the fact that whatever was in the box probably wasn’t something I’d like.
Or, at the very least, something he wasn’t sure I’d like.
He didn’t really know me that well. “I’m sure I’ll love it, then,” I replied, tucking the gift to my chest and myself to Carter’s side.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you both. Carter talks about you all the time. ”
Lydia was still holding onto Mrs. Pembleton’s arm. “You two know Eleanor’s father, don’t you?” she asked, peering at Dr. Pembleton. “David Brighton?”
“Yes, Carter said Dave is your father. Is he here?” That smile that’d been peeking in Dr. Pembleton’s expression came out. “Seems like the perfect opportunity to catch up, doesn’t it?”
“He’s probably at home,” Lydia replied for me. “He had a really hard case back in March, and he took a leave from work. He hasn’t been able to get out of the house.”
“Thank you for being so concerned about him,” I told Lydia generously, even though I wanted to swear at her instead of smile. “But he’s on his way. He had to pick up the cake, so he should be here any minute.”
Lydia’s face fell, as if that was somehow a wrench in her plans.
I laid my hand on Carter’s arm. “My mom, actually, would love to—” Love to meet you, I was going to say, but as I looked at Carter, my gaze drifted just beyond his shoulder, finding the shadowy, looming figure that leaned against the wall the white and gold balloon arch was attached to.
Beck.
He looked like a shadow against all the glimmering gold.
His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, and for a change, instead of a dark tee, he had on a white one with a black jacket over it.
His expression was impossible to read, given how locked down it was.
Flat, unfeeling. The sudden sight of him had me freezing mid-sentence.
Beck’s eyes latched onto mine. They were clear, bright, empty. My hand was still on Carter’s arm, but I wanted nothing more than to cross the room.
Carter, ever so slightly, cleared his throat, drawing my attention back.