CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
(Charlotte)
As it turned out, dinner with a huge number of people was less intimidating than dinner with Matt’s sister and mother. I didn’t have to worry about making a good impression on any of the other guests. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see them again.
They didn’t seem like Matt’s crowd.
Elizabeth’s birthday dinner was held in a larger dining room, this one with circular tables seated according to a chart. Luckily, Matt and I were seated together, with Scott, so I didn’t even have to make much conversation with hoity-toity strangers.
Between the meal and dessert, uniformed waiters poured glasses of champagne for us, and Elizabeth rose from her seat. The champagne must have been a signal, because everyone fell quiet and turned their eyes to her.
“I want to thank you all for coming to fete me on this, my thirty-second birthday,” she said, to a rumble of subdued laughter. “And I also thank you for your generous contributions, in lieu of gifts, to the food banks and food shares across Connecticut.”
Scott leaned over and whispered, “The food these people wasted tonight could have fed the whole state on its own.”
I covered my derisive snort with my hand. Sure, I wasn’t exactly a philanthropist, but it was a little difficult to see everyone pat their own backs over their charity when I knew for a fact that some of those people had enough money to solve world hunger twice over.
For example, your boyfriend. Like a hypocrite, I pushed that thought firmly aside.
I turned my attention back to Elizabeth and her toast. She raised her glass and thanked everyone again, and we all drank and clapped. Then, Matt got to his feet.
“Oh god,” I whispered to Scott. “Is this like a wedding? Are there going to be a ton of speeches?”
“No, just Elizabeth and Matt,” he reassured me. “It’s how it goes every year. Brace yourself, he’s going to make us sing.”
“Like my mother, I thank you all for coming here to honor her. I think everyone in this room knows exactly how special she is, so I won’t belabor that point. But I would appreciate it if you would join me in embarrassing her a bit with a song,” he said, and then, to my utter delight, broke into a round of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” with appropriate pronoun changes. Everyone joined in while Elizabeth blushed and waved a hand in feigned protest.
Apparently, “Happy Birthday” wasn’t fancy enough.
After we drank to the birthday girl’s health once more, Matt sat down and said conspiratorially, “The worst second of my entire year, annually, is when I start singing that song and have to wait for everyone to sing along before I can drop out and mouth the words.”
“Yeah, but this year you got attacked by a bear,” I reminded him.
“The singing is still the worst.” He drained his champagne.
Dessert came in the form of a giant three-tiered cake that was presented and quickly sliced for serving, but I noticed many people filtering out of the room.
“After the toasts, dinner is basically over,” Scott explained in a low voice. “Some people stick around for cake, some head straight to the ballroom.”
The dancing. I blanched. “I have no idea how to dance.”
“Neither do I,” Matt supplied. “But people still ask me to. Do your best. Everyone will be drunk soon, anyway, so it won’t matter.”
“And avoid his Uncle Charles,” Scott said, unknowingly reiterating Matt’s warning from before.
Though I’d dreaded Scott’s presence before our come-to-Jesus meeting, I was grateful for him, now. He had experience being the odd man out at these events and could offer advice Matt might have overlooked.
“Well, I’m staying right here for now,” I said, gesturing to the cake.
“I have a better idea,” Matt said, patting the breast of his jacket. “Maybe the three of us should get a little fresh air, then come back for cake.”
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Scott agreed. “I’ll go first, so we don’t look suspicious.”
“Back terrace, behind the rectangular hedges,” Matt directed him.
When he’d gone, I turned to Matt. “So, am I going to see you dancing with a bunch of desirable high-society women tonight?”
“Yes. But you’re the one I’m taking back to my room with me.”
“Okay. That’s the right answer.” I nudged him with my elbow.
“I do have an ex here,” he warned me in a low voice. “It’s only fair to let you know. But there’s nothing to be worried about.”
My stomach twisted. That was the kind of thing someone said about a person I definitely should be worried about.
“She was my girlfriend for four weeks in the seventh grade,” he added with a wink.
I gave him a little push and an outraged scoff. “Don’t prey on my insecurities in a vulnerable situation like this.”
He put an arm around my shoulders and dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “You’re right, that was cruel of me. Let’s go outside and get high at my mother’s fancy party.”
As we left the dining room and walked through the foyer, I noted Matt scanning the crowd. “Looking for your childhood sweetheart?” I chided him.
“No… I’m wondering which one of these guys is fucking my sister,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I don’t care what she does, but it’s fascinating to think that anyone wants to spend that much time alone in a room with her.”
“I should have tried to get a peek,” I said, quickly adding, “Before anything started, I mean!”
He laughed.
“Does it help if the guy’s voice sounded a little bit familiar?” The feeling that I should have recognized it still nagged at me. Of course, we’d chit-chatted with so many people at the garden party, everyone probably sounded the same to me.
“Not unless you can put a name to the similarity.” He held the door open for me and we stepped out into the balmy night air. There were other guests on the terrace, smoking cigarettes or strolling around the garden, but Matt seemed wholly unconcerned about that as he retrieved the joint and lighter from his pocket and paused to spark it up right at the bottom of the stone stairs. The discreet smoking spot Matt had chosen was a useless little cluster of hedges right out in the open, and Scott stood waiting for us there.
“Um, aren’t people going to be offended that we’re out here blazing up?” I asked. Matt shrugged as we made our way over to the hedges. “Fuck ’em. Half of them are going to use coke in the guest bathrooms tonight.”
“We’re on a mission tonight,” Matt told Scott, holding the lit joint out to him and exhaling a cloud of blue into the night sky. Scott took a puff. “Oh, yeah?”
“We’re trying to figure out who’s fucking my sister.”
Scott choked and coughed.
Wow, freshman,” I quipped, taking the joint from his hand.
“Why?” he wheezed, mostly to Matt.
“Morbid curiosity.” Matt said.
“Look, I know who’s fucking my sister, and I kind of wish I didn’t.” Scott curled his lip in disgust. “Maybe some things are better left a mystery.”
“If things are better left a mystery, maybe she shouldn’t be fucking some guy during her mom’s birthday party.” I passed off to Matt.
“Wait, what?” Scott looked between the two of us.
“Charlotte heard them when she went to the bathroom,” Matt explained.
“Now it’s our fun little mystery,” I added.
“She’s cheating, though. On her husband,” Scott said.
Matt nodded and passed to him. “We already solved that part of the mystery.”
“Right.” Scott inhaled, his brow crumpled in concern.
“We’re not going to cause trouble for her.” Though I wasn’t sure why that would even be a concern for Scott. Sure, he’d known the family longer than I had, but I couldn’t imagine anyone being super attached to or emotionally invested in Catherine. She was so deeply unpleasant.
“Mind if I step in?” A voice asked from behind us. Matt’s expression momentarily darkened, but he instantly righted it and turned to welcome the newcomer.
“Not at all. Jackson, you know Scott,” Matt said.
“Of course.” Jackson shook my brother’s hand.
“And this is my girlfriend, Charlotte.”
I offered my hand, and the guy tried to kiss it. I quickly redirected it into a shake.
Matt offered him the joint, and I briefly wondered about swapping germs with a guy I didn’t know. Then, I thought about everything I’d done at Ascend Red and realized how goofy my concern was.
So, this was Jackson. The guy who’d let his wife come to the party weekend with their kids and a bunch of excuses. He was tall, white, blond, and handsome, but not so impressive that I would let him get away with treating me like that.
Then again, I couldn’t imagine a time when I would allow anyone to treat me like that. And I was certain Matt never would.
“I heard you had some difficulty getting here,” Matt said.
Jackson took a hit and nodded, responding tightly, “Traffic was a nightmare.”
“I thought you were helicoptering in,” Scott said, narrowing his eyes like a detective doing an interrogation.
“Fell through,” Jackson answered easily.
“I’m sure.”
Scott’s hostility struck me as odd. Maybe there was some history there that I was unaware of.
Oh, gross. He hadn’t dated Catherine, had he? And been jilted when she married her husband?
I quashed that notion immediately. He wouldn’t have had any standing to criticize Matt and I in that case, and the sister dating would have certainly come up in our conversations if Scott and Catherine had been involved.
After another quick hit, Scott said, “Cake’s calling to me. I’ll see you all inside.”
“I hope I didn’t run him off,” Jackson said under his breath, watching Scott mount the steps.
“He’s got the munchies,” Matt said. “It’s too bad about the drive up. What did you bring?”
A toothy smile lit up Jackson’s face. “The Huracán. Never got a chance to open her up, though.”
“It’s going to be tough getting the kids back in that,” Matt noted casually.
Jackson’s eyebrows shot up. “The kids are here?”
I worked very hard to make my face not make the face it wanted to make. The guy didn’t even know where his fucking children were?
“They came up with Catherine.”
How was Matt having such a friendly conversation with this asshole?
Maybe I didn’t have the patience to live this kind of lifestyle.
“Catherine won’t ride with me, anyway. She thinks I’m a dangerous driver.”
Jackson ashed the joint like a cigarette and handed it back to Matt, who passed it to me so as not to break the established rotation. Jackson didn’t even have the class to respect stoner tradition. Then again, he’d barely looked at me after our initial introduction. Maybe women were just accessories to him.
“How’s the leg?” he asked, leaning back a little as he surveyed Matt’s cane.
“Still attached,” Matt replied with an ease I knew he didn’t feel.
“Damn shame you won’t be able to keep up with us on the golf course now.” Jackson shook his head in weirdly gleeful sympathy.
I wanted to throw a punch. But Matt smiled. “A shame, or lucky for you?”
Jackson laughed, and it was the fakest thing I’d ever heard in my life. “I’m sure you’re happy to be spared. Matt doesn’t enjoy the annual charity golf weekend.”
Oh, am I finally being addressed? It wasn’t something I was expected to respond to, though, so I faked a laugh right on back.
“Well, I guess I should go say hi to the kids,” Jackson said, almost magnanimously, as if interacting with one’s own children were some kind of favor. “Nice to meet you, Charlotte.”
I didn’t respond in kind, and he didn’t notice because he’d already started to walk away. “What a douchebag,” I muttered, taking another hit.
“The douchebaggery is aging like wine too,” Matt said with a note of dismay. “Every time I see him, he’s somehow slimier.”
“I’m not a rich fancy person, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how wine works,” I said. “My brother sure doesn’t like him.”
“He’s never been a Jackson fan. Although, few people are.”
“Why did your sister marry him?” It couldn’t have been for the money; the Ashes already had plenty of that. “For his sparkling personality?”
Matt laughed. “We were expected to find our spouses from a pool of suitable society people. He had the most desirable name and the least amount of underbite.”
“Not to be offensive, but all of this is…terrible,” I blurted. If Matt was offended, he hid it well.
“No argument here. Why do you think all of my friends are normal people?”
“Um, you’re friends with a famous rapper,” I reminded him. “And other assorted billionaires.”
“None of them old money,” he corrected me.
“Fair.” I took a last puff and offered the joint back to Matt. When he waved it away, I dropped the roach on the ground and stubbed it out under my shoe. “I’m sorry for what he said. About your leg.”
“That’s not for you to be sorry about.” Matt put his arm around my waist and nodded toward the house.
“Maybe not,” I said as we walked up the path to the stairs. “But I’m still sorry that he said it.”
“He isn’t sorry about it, so we shouldn’t waste our energy.” Matt gave me a wink. I was officially shut out from being concerned about his mental well-being. I didn’t like that, at all.
Inside, I moved away from Matt. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll meet you at the cake.”
There was a line for the bathroom I’d used earlier, so I took a chance and wandered back upstairs, thinking it would probably be quicker to use the one in Matt’s room. Turning a corner, I nearly collided with a very short person in a very grown-up-looking gown.
“Oh, Charlotte,” Briony said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Pardon me. I was rushing and I shouldn’t have been.”
“That’s okay,” I said, glancing around in the hope that I would see her mother or her nanny or anyone else who could prevent me from having to talk to the kid. It wasn’t this particular child, though I did find her and her brother exceptionally creepy. I wasn’t good at speaking to kids in general. I always felt awkward and judged.
“I saw you were seated with my mother’s paramour at dinner,” Briony said. “I do hope it wasn’t too awkward for you.”
Ooh. The child came with gossip. Then, I felt a pang of guilt. The kid was fully aware of one of her parents’ affairs. And if she was aware of one, she was probably also aware of another. That was heartbreaking. Or she’s a kid and she doesn’t know what paramour is. Maybe she was thinking of that two-thousands band. “I’m sorry, your mother’s what, sweetie?”
“Her paramour.” Her little brow crumpled in confusion. “I’m sorry, perhaps I’m not using the word correctly. I did only just learn it. Her lover?”
Oh god, that was an even worse word to hear coming out of a kid’s mouth. “I—”
“That is the correct meaning, isn’t it?” she asked. It took a few attempts to find my voice.
“Uh. Uh, yeah. That’s what it means.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought my vocabulary needed polishing.”
“It’s more polished than mine,” I muttered.
“So, how do you know Scott?” she asked.
“Oh, he’s my brother,” I said before I made the mental link. “Wait—”
“I’m so sorry.” Briony’s little hands came up to cover her mouth. “You weren’t aware.”
“Aware that my brother…is your mother’s…”
“Paramour,” she repeated. “Lover.”
“Yeah, no, I got that.” My mind raced, but my every thought collided with a solid wall of revulsion. My brother was fucking Catherine? I’d overheard my brother fucking Catherine? And he’d had the nerve to… No, that couldn’t be correct. Scott had been waiting for me in the foyer the whole time. He’d been there when Matt and I had returned. Unless he was the fastest gun in the East—gross—and he could have somehow teleported, it was impossible that he’d been the guy going at it with Catherine. “You know,” I began, my heart pounding in my throat as I recovered from the scare, “your dad was looking for you.”
“Is Father here?” Her faint brows raised. “Well, my brother has lost a bet with me. Do excuse me, won’t you?”
“Of course.” I watched her skip off, a physical action so incongruous with our conversation that I wondered if my high ass had hallucinated it all.
“And maybe don’t use the word ‘paramour,’” I called after her. “I might not be clear on the definition either.”
She certainly wasn’t.