Chapter 13
The Staged Laugh
Caroline
“Is that a Birkin?” Lettie asked, just as I hoped she would when I not so subtly set my bag on the table and ever so slowly put my sunglasses away.
“Yes!” I squealed. “Can you believe it?”
“May I touch it?” I passed the bag to my friend, who was sitting on the other side of the booth. “Business must be going well,” she said as she admired the leather bag.
“Business is booming. But I didn’t buy this. Or rather, I did, but I didn’t pay full price. I hit the mother lode of designer handbags at an estate sale.”
“No way! Tell me all about it.”
“I bought more items than I could ever use. So I’ve been selling them online and making a killing.
” I made so much that first week that I was easily able to pay Wyatt back.
“It’s going so well that I’m thinking of pivoting.
Instead of being a stylist, I’ll sell gently-used luxury handbags and accessories online.
It’s not as glamorous as being a celebrity stylist, but let’s face it—I’m not a celebrity stylist. And this is more profitable.
And as a bonus, it requires far fewer people skills, which you know are not my strong suit. ”
“ I love working with you,” said Lettie.
“That’s because you’re my dream client.”
“Thank you! Well, I fully support this new venture as long as you’re still willing to help me find a dress for a gala from time to time.”
“Definitely, buying you clothes is fun.”
“But not as much fun as the guy with the parachute pants,” Lettie said with a sly smile. I had been sending her pictures of some of Wyatt’s worst ensembles, always with his face cropped out.
“Wyatt’s not fun. He’s insufferable.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
“Am I? Probably because some of his outfits do make me laugh. I don’t know how he does it. It requires a keen fashion sense to consistently strike out with such flair.”
“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Lettie asked with a knowing smile.
“So hot!”
“And single?”
“Very. But he prefers it that way.” I let out a sigh. “That’s the problem.”
“Well, dressing badly just to bug you—that seems intentional.”
“Oh! Wyatt’s a HUGE flirt. That’s why it’s hard to know whether he’s interested in me. I mean, I know he likes me.”
I thought of him buying the lot of vintage dresses for me, stocking his fridge with Diet Coke, and breaking my brain with that kiss in his kitchen. Since then, he’d been true to his word, keeping things professional, except for showing up in obnoxious ensembles and refusing to go suit shopping.
“Maybe he’s attracted to me. But I don’t think Wyatt’s looking for a girlfriend.” I told myself he wasn’t serious about Emma. He almost never mentioned her. I really hoped he wasn’t. “And it hardly matters because I kind-of-maybe have a new boyfriend.”
Lettie did a spit take, which caused me to snort-laugh. I wouldn’t have found it so funny if the Birkin had ended up in the line of fire, but fortunately, I had the good sense to set my precious handbag on the bench next to me and cover it with my cloth napkin.
“You have a boyfriend! Way to bury the lede,” she said as she wiped up the water droplets scattered across the table.
“Yeah, well, it’s newish, and I’m not sure if I should call him my boyfriend. We’ve only been on a few dates.” I’d been dating Ed for nearly a month. I didn’t know why I hadn’t told her about him.
“Have you kissed?”
“Yeah.” Ed kissed me at the end of our last date. It wasn’t a bad kiss, not at all. I had been properly swept away in the moment. But that night, as I was trying to sleep, all I could think of was Wyatt kissing me in his kitchen.
“What am I missing here?” asked Lettie. “Is this Ed guy some loser without a job?”
“No, no, the opposite. He comes from money. He’s the guy who sold me all the handbags actually. And he’s got his own stuff happening. He’s building a resort in Big Sur.”
“Impressive.” Lettie narrowed her eyes. “Caroline, why aren’t you more excited? Is he unattractive?”
“Nope, Ed’s perfect. If I were to shop in a catalog for boyfriends, I would order him. He dresses exactly how I thought my dream husband would. You know how I’m always the best-dressed one in the room?” Lettie nodded. “Not with Ed. So yeah, I’m... uh... really excited.”
“I hate to tell you this, but you’re more excited about your new bag than this new boyfriend.”
“I know!” I let out a huff of frustration. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you. Maybe the problem is Ed or Wyatt?” Perhaps Lettie was too perceptive.
“Ed’s just so nice. He agrees with everything I say. You’d think that would be the dream. But I hate it.”
“ I would hate it. Which is funny because right now, Liam has the most inconvenient opinions. Growing up, I just assumed I would plan my wedding however I wanted. I did not count on having a groom with random opinions on the rental chairs and the salad dressing.”
“He has opinions because your wedding matters to him.”
“True... sometimes I think Liam is more excited for the wedding than I am. And to be clear, I am very excited.” Beaming, Lettie bounced a little in her seat.
And for once, I didn’t feel that familiar pang of envy.
I have to tell Wyatt; he’ll be so proud.
The thought was so swift, so reflexive, I would have dismissed it except for what Lettie said next.
“I’m guessing Wyatt isn’t quite so agreeable. ”
“He argues with me even when he agrees with me. He knows full well that what he’s wearing is atrocious. He just likes to push my buttons.”
“So why not date him instead of Ed?”
“So many reasons. But the biggest one: he’s Greg’s cousin.”
“Noooo!”
“It gets worse. He’s the one who convinced Greg to break up with me.”
“Never mind, I hate Wyatt. Go for Ed. He’s perfect.”
We ordered our food. I got the cheesy potatoes because Mo was right—they were the best thing in the restaurant. I’d never been to this place until Mr. Knox suggested we meet here. Since then, it had become one of my favorite spots for brunch.
Lettie told me about the book she was currently working on, her recent visit with Liam to see his sister in Cornwall, and, of course, her upcoming wedding. “We considered having it in Ames. But I love the idea of being married in the home we’ll live in.”
“That’s sweet—a modest wedding from your home,” I said with just a hint of sarcasm.
Liam’s house, while perhaps not as flashy as you might expect for someone of his income bracket, was 8,000 square feet of architectural perfection on an impeccably landscaped estate with gardens and an almond orchard, a nod to Liam’s family business, Pemberley Almonds.
“It would be modest if we had it in my home in Iowa. I don’t even want to think about what Dr. Debourgh would say about my mom’s decorating.
” I laughed knowingly. Lettie and I had both suffered under Liam’s aunt’s scrutiny.
“We decided to hold it here on his dad’s birthday.
It seemed like the best way to remember William Darcy at our wedding. ”
“I know that day has been a hard day for the family. What a nice way to reclaim it.”
“Caroline!” I glanced up. Wyatt walked up to our table, looking scrumptious.
He wore the new pair of jeans I’d found for him (not quite as snug but just as comfortable).
And—be still my beating heart—a button-down shirt with fabric soft enough that Wyatt didn’t complain about the tailored fit.
On his feet, he donned Allbirds Mocs. Wyatt griped, among many things, about pointy shoes being too aristocratic.
So I had to find him ones with round toes.
The whole ensemble was casual and laid back like Wyatt, but a little more deliberate.
And his haircut—oh, his haircut. His barber deserved a medal or something.
His hair was trimmed, his face clean shaven, because a jawline like that should be seen—and admired.
He looked magnificent. It was satisfying to know that he was putting his new wardrobe to use, that he didn’t really go out in public in the obnoxious outfits he wore at our weekly appointments.
“Caroline!” The second voice belonged to Emma, who was also dressed like a dream, though her handbag was not a Birkin. She stood so close to Wyatt, they looked almost as if they were holding hands, but they weren’t. I double and triple-checked.
“Wyatt! This is my friend, Lettie,” I said. “Lettie, this is Wyatt and Emma.”
“Nice to meet you,” Lettie said, nodding to Wyatt from her seat in the booth. “We have something in common. I’m also one of Caroline’s clients.”
“Are you?” he asked with interest. “Do you get a little nervous every time you see her? Worry that she might be judging your outfit?”
“Totally!” Lettie laughed. “I tried on three different outfits today.”
“I’m pleased to see you don’t normally go around in those getups you wear to our appointments,” I said to Wyatt.
Emma looked between Wyatt and me, confused.
“Wyatt looks amazing all the time,” she said, putting a proprietary hand on the cuff of his rolled-up shirt sleeve. I wanted to swipe her dainty French manicured hand off his forearm.
Wyatt smiled sheepishly. “I might purposely wear the most ridiculous outfits when I meet Caroline,” he said to Emma. For a moment, she appeared confused and then she broke out into a laugh.
“Wyatt,” she giggled. “You’re so entertaining.
” I recognized that laugh; it was the staged laugh of a woman who wanted to ingratiate herself with a man.
It was how I laughed with Ed. How I laughed at Greg.
I was ashamed to admit it, but it was how I laughed at Liam’s jokes back when I thought my brother’s friend would be a good match for me.
It was not how I laughed at Wyatt. He always got my real snort-laugh-cackle because I was never trying to impress him.
“Lettie,” I said, trying to make things less awkward. “Emma is friends with Georgie.”
“Are you?” asked Lettie. “Liam and I were just visiting her in Cornwall.”