Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Nantucket Island
It was the summer solstice and one of the first grand parties at the White Oak Lodge of the season.
Everyone who was everyone would be coming: guests who’d frequented the White Oak Lodge for generations, film directors, actors, models, and other islander elites.
Alexander detested it and had tried to get out of it every year since he could remember.
Unfortunately, Francesca had insisted that Alexander attend, saying, “There will be beautiful islanders there, darling. Don’t you think it’s time you got out there and found out what kind of woman you want as your wife?
” Although Alexander would rather have been out on his boat, escaping his family and their expectations, his mother rejected all of his excuses.
He was nearly twenty-two years old and, in her eyes, ready for the next stage of his life—provided that stage linked up with the White Oak Lodge and his so-called legacy.
Alexander finished his chores for the day at four thirty, showered, and padded downstairs to find Nina on the back porch, playing with a caterpillar.
She wore a light-pink dress that made her neck itch.
He remembered the dress because Francesca had always made Charlotte wear it a few years ago, and probably Allegra and Lorelei before that.
Francesca always wanted to teach her daughters that fashion was more important than comfort.
Alexander had never been clear whether that was an Italian thing or a Francesca thing.
“Hey, squirt,” he said, sitting beside his kid sister.
“Shh,” Nina said, raising her finger to show the caterpillar as it slunk across. “We have to be very quiet. We don’t want to frighten him.”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
Nina gave Alexander a curious and pained look, as though she couldn’t believe how stupid her older brother could be.
“Did I say the wrong thing again?” Alexander teased her.
Her eyes going from left to right, Nina whispered, “I heard Mom talking. She said she invited Belle.”
Alexander grimaced. “Did she?”
Nina nodded furiously, so much so that the caterpillar shook on her finger. She apologized to the bug and returned to their little world together, as Alexander took off, fuming. How could his mother do this to him? It was apparent why she’d insisted he come to the party. It was a setup.
Belle was Alexander’s ex-girlfriend from high school.
After graduation, when Alexander hadn’t been allowed to go to college for White Oak Lodge reasons, Belle had gone off to the University of Rhode Island.
Over the phone, she’d made him promise to visit her.
“Every weekend,” she’d said. But Alexander hadn’t been able to get off the island that often.
His father needed his help at the Lodge, his siblings needed his help at home, and his mother had expectations as well.
Soon, the pressure became too much. The phone calls were too frequent, and Alexander told Belle they needed to break up.
Belle had been heartbroken, sobbing over the landline, asking him to visit so they could talk it out.
But Alexander had never gone to see her.
He hadn’t told anyone in his family what had gone wrong, either.
The truth was, he hadn’t really liked her that much. He’d realized when she’d left that he was happier without her. He wasn’t sure if that was cruel. Then again, teenagers broke up all the time. It was a part of life.
Now, Belle was probably entering her final year of college, which was hard to believe.
It made Alexander feel just as itchy as Nina probably was in that dress.
He’d wanted to go to college and prep for flight school.
He’d wanted to have an incredible life, like Belle and the others he’d graduated with.
Alexander found his mother in the massive hotel kitchen, where she assessed the hors d’oeuvres prepped by the caterers and triple-checked the desserts for the evening ahead.
Linked up with Benjamin, Francesca was a very capable teammate in all things White Oak Lodge, Alexander knew.
Benjamin respected her a great deal. Together, they’d made the Lodge more prosperous than it had ever been in the hands of previous Whitmores.
“Mom, did you invite Belle to the party?” Alexander demanded in Italian so that nobody else in the kitchen would understand. (Then again, he imagined that some of their Lodge staff members had picked up Italian over the years and hid it from the Whitmores.)
Francesca didn’t look away from her list. “Of course I did. She’s a friend of the family.”
“She’s my ex-girlfriend.”
“Oh, Alexander. How old are you again? People get back together all the time. Adults know how to look past their differences.” With a sigh, Francesca delicately pressed her pen behind her ear and switched back to English to tell the caterers what to do next.
The guests would begin arriving in twenty minutes, which meant she didn’t have much time to waste on Alexander and his problems—problems she’d created, by the way.
When Alexander hung around too long, she swatted him. “Get out there. Have a drink, for crying out loud. You’re a strong, American man, aren’t you? Just because Belle broke up with you…”
“I broke up with Belle!” Alexander said.
Francesca rolled her eyes. “Well, that was your mistake, wasn’t it?”
It was clear his mother had no intentions of listening to him. Alexander walked out of the kitchen, his head hung in feelings of shame and annoyance.
But outside, the party had already begun among the hotel staff who were off for the night, Whitmore family members, and the elite hotel guests.
A string quintet played on the veranda, and Allegra and Lorelei were dancing a fake waltz, their dresses whipping around their knees.
Benjamin was chatting happily with Tio Angelo in his broken Italian, laughing.
It was rare to see Tio Angelo and his father getting along so well.
Sometimes the animosity between them had the air in the Lodge so thick that you could cut it like butter.
Alexander wondered if, like him, his father suspected that Tio Angelo was up to no good.
When he remembered how his uncle had threatened him, a chill ran down his spine.
Sometimes he wondered if that had really happened.
Soon, Charlotte sidled up to him and nodded toward a group of cars coming down the road. “Here we go,” she said. “Good luck.”
Alexander wrinkled his nose. “You heard about…”
“Your ex? Of course. Mom’s told everyone she arranged it,” Charlotte said. “She wants us to know that she’s the clever one who got you two back together. Matchmaker!”
Alexander groaned and shot away from the car, sensing Charlotte was right about who was just now parking.
Sure enough, Belle got out of the third vehicle, whipping her long red hair behind her shoulders and surveying the grounds.
It was clear she was looking for him. Alexander had to admit that she was even prettier than she’d been back in high school, that her adorable face had thinned into something more womanly and mature.
But when she spotted him and came over, Alexander’s stomach tied itself in knots.
He recalled all those anxious nights, sitting in a car with her, waiting for something to happen.
But they’d never really had anything to talk about.
When Alexander had spent too much time in silence, Belle had burst with all the high school gossip that currently swirled around them, miffed that he hadn’t noticed any of it.
But Alexander had been focused in high school, eager to get good grades so that he could run off to flight school one day. I was so naive, he thought.
“Hi,” she said, biting her lip. He wondered if she acted like this in front of guys she liked at the University of Rhode Island. Maybe it was all an act.
“Hey.” Alexander reached for a glass of wine from a passing server, and Belle did the same. “How’s your summer going?”
“Good. Well, I’m doing an internship in Boston,” Belle said, before listing an organization that Alexander had never heard of. It was obvious that he was meant to be impressed by the name. She added, “But I’m back for the weekend.”
“Cool.” Alexander’s chest was inflamed with jealousy. He should be off somewhere with an internship instead of waiting around here for his ex-girlfriend to come over or for his mother to arrange his future.
“And how has it been here?” Belle asked. “I heard from my mother that you have huge responsibilities here. You’re going to take over the Lodge sooner, rather than later, right? That’s what everyone says.”
Alexander felt the burn behind her gaze, her urgent desire to one day work alongside him at the White Oak Lodge, to become a Whitmore and therefore Nantucket royalty.
He considered telling her something cruel, like, I broke up with you for a reason.
You’re boring and basic and obsessed with gossip!
But he knew a comment like that would get back to his mother, and she’d find a way to punish him.
Plus, Belle didn’t deserve that kind of behavior. She was a sweet woman and would make a wonderful wife someday, for somebody else, here in Nantucket or somewhere else. He had to find a way out of this strange dynamic and apologize for being unable to meet her needs yet again.
Suddenly, out of the corner of Alexander’s eye, he spotted Jack and Amos stalking through the party, their eyes watchful.
Alexander kept tabs on them, eager to spot something that would clue him into what they were up to.
Meanwhile, Belle continued to tell him about her internship, how great it was so far, and her plans for the future. Alexander couldn’t focus.
Just when he thought he’d storm over to Jack and demand answers, Benjamin Whitmore cut through the property, his face marred with panic.
Alexander jerked his gaze from Jack and followed his father with his eyes.
His feet itched with his desire to go after him physically.
When Belle was quiet for ten seconds, waiting for him to answer her, he said, “Yeah, um. I have to go.” And then he added, “Um, it was nice to see you?” But before she could answer, he ducked away, following his father.
He’d begun to suspect that his father was involved in all this Tio Angelo business as well. But it couldn’t be, could it? Benjamin did everything for the White Oak Lodge. He wouldn’t do anything to endanger its future. And Tio Angelo didn’t care a lick about the future of the White Oak Lodge.
They were two contradictory ideas, and Alexander couldn’t hold them at once.
Alexander shot up to his father, nearly spilling his wine. “Hey, Dad?”
Benjamin stalled and glanced at Alexander, confused to see him.
“Dad, what’s up?” Alexander demanded, his voice wavering.
Benjamin stalled but was unable to look Alexander in the eye, as though he were hiding something. “Um, your mother,” he stuttered. “She requested help with something. You know how she is.”
“What did she ask for help with?” Alexander felt the lie beneath his father’s words, but couldn’t fathom what that lie could be. “Maybe I can figure it out.”
Benjamin took Alexander by the shoulder, took a breath, fixed his face into a fake smile, and said, “Man, you have to enjoy this party, huh? That beautiful girlfriend of yours is here! You should be over there, dancing with her. It’s what your mother wants.
Do us a favor and do what your mother wants? ”
Alexander knew he was being kicked out of his father's house on purpose. Before he could accuse his father of doing so, however, Benjamin was off again, bucking around the corner and disappearing. Alexander hung back, annoyed. When he turned around, he found Belle in conversation with Allegra and Lorelei. They were laughing about something. Probably, they were laughing about him, about how useless as a boyfriend he’d been and still was.
Alexander groaned and drained the rest of his wine. He hadn’t wanted to come to this stupid party.