15. Dani #2
“We should have catered.” My mom’s having a meltdown in the kitchen. “I told you we should have catered.”
“No, I said we should cater!” Piper’s yelling now.
“I bought a street-taco kit at Costco. We’re just going to have tacos.”
“We are not feeding the Belmonts tacos, Hank.”
Graham removes his suit jacket and heads to the kitchen while I scurry after him.
“Can I help you at all, Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood?”
“Is Dani not entertaining you? Dani!”
“Do you know how to butcher a fish?” my dad asks dramatically. “I wanted to serve them whole but…”
Mom is glaring at me, then she beams at Graham. “We’re just running a little behind.”
Graham is already rolling up his sleeves.
Piper swoons. I’m feeling a little dizzy myself as Graham takes the knife, which my father was about to accidentally cut his finger off with, and runs it along the whetstone.
“My parents made me work minimum-wage jobs in high school,” he says as he picks up the first fish and turns it over. It looks like it’s been hacked at with a spoon.
“That one’s ruined. We’ll make sure Dani eats that one,” Mom tells him in a rush.
He deftly runs the knife along the side of the fish.
“Not a single bone.” My dad marvels at the fillet as Graham moves onto the next fish.
“I worked at a restaurant nearby, and my job was to cut up all the meat.”
“Your parents made you work in a kitchen?” Mom purses her mouth.
“Kitchen work is fun, Linda. It’s not like he was cleaning sewers,” Dad says.
We all watch, mesmerized, as Graham slices up the fish.
“Well, ‘fun’ is not exactly the word I would use,” Graham says wryly.
“The whole place was staffed by ex-prisoners, and they got pretty touchy if you messed up.” He sets the next perfect fillet down.
“One guy—tattoos all over his face—I remember him just going ballistic on me because he didn’t like the way I chopped up chives.
‘Circles!’ he’d yell. ‘Circles, not tubes!’”
He smiles at the memory.
Yeesh.
“We’re here! I’m hungry,” Jeremy yells as he and Colette and Colette’s mom enter the kitchen.
Vivienne Belmont’s eyebrows raise straight up when she sees Graham—sleeves rolled up, knife in hand. “My word.”
My mom’s face blanches.
“Vivienne! Can I… This is… How about a drink? Dani, did you eat all those endives?” Mom is flustered. “Pour our guests some wine.”
“Hi, Graham,” Colette drawls.
His hands are dirty and holding a knife, so he can’t push her away when she leans up to press a too-long kiss to his cheek.
Or at least I think he’d want to push her away. He’s probably reminded that she’s the type of girl a man like him should be with.
“Dani, why haven’t you changed?” Mom says. “I’m sorry, Vivienne, we seem to be running behind.”
“I’m cooking the fish right now! Piper, the potatoes!” Dad rushes out of the kitchen.
“Oh dear. And here I was about to tell you I was going to steal your private chef.” She looks Graham up and down.
“Wait…” Jeremy is very confused. “I thought you were a tech billionaire.”
“She’s just making a joke, sweetie.”
Colette looks annoyed.
Graham washes his hands. He nods in greeting as he dries them on a towel. “Ma’am. Graham Richmond.”
“Oh, I know who you are. You’re the talk of the Upper East Side.” Vivienne smiles at him.
“Why don’t we all go sit down at the table?” Mom shoos us out of the kitchen. “Dani, your clothes.”
“Sorry,” I mouth to Graham as he’s herded to the dining room.
I hear Colette and her mom basically flirting with Graham. You’d think that married and soon-to-be-married women wouldn’t be flirting with someone else’s boyfriend, but you’d be wrong. Sleeping with each other’s husbands is practically a sport among the Upper East Side set.
You’re not actually together, I remind my reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror. So who cares if he wants to flirt with her?
He’s an evil kidnapper, and Colette’s the bride of Frankenstein. They deserve each other.
It still stings, though.
Actually, no—it’s devastating. All the scar tissue I thought I’d developed from the blows to my self-esteem over the years gives way, and all I want to do is beg Graham to like me, like me.
I’m trying to sponge off the underboob sweat in the bathroom when the door slams open.
“Who raised you?” Gran rails. “You get back out there. That woman’s trying to steal your boyfriend. No, don’t wear a bra with that shirt.”
“I need one.”
“No. Tape them up. High and proud, Dani. High and proud.”
The fish is on the table, and Dad beams when he sees me. “There she is! Dani made the lemon-butter sauce.”
Graham is seated at the head of the table, and I scuttle into the seat next to him.
Mom has put out the nice plates with the blue-and-white Dutch pattern.
“Dani is an excellent cook.”
“It’s because she likes to eat.” Colette smirks.
“Never trust a skinny chef.” Colette’s mom titters.
Graham’s mouth flattens, and I nudge him with my fork. He ignores me.
“I appreciate that she’s able to cook and clean and host. It seems to be a lost art among young women these days.”
“Hear that, Colette?” Jeremy elbows her in between shoveling food in his mouth. “Dani’s cooking for her boyfriend.”
Colette’s eyes flash dark and ugly at my brother, then she quickly turns back to Graham.
“So, Graham, do tell. No one can understand how you and Dani could possibly be a couple.”
My mom grips her wineglass. Her smile is strained.
Graham expertly uses his fish knife to flake a bit of flesh off the fillet. “I don’t understand what you mean.” He takes a bite.
“Well—” Colette’s mom is flustered for a moment. This is the closest someone’s been to calling out her shit in twenty years. “I just mean… Well, you’re you, and Dani… Well, she’s not Colette, is she?”
“I work in tech, Mrs. Belmont. The vast majority of the people I interact with are men. It’s nice to come home to a woman. A real one.”
“Hear, hear! Dani definitely never needed breast implants,” Gran says and scoops more asparagus onto her plate.
“How did you two meet?” My dad interjects before Vivienne can go ice queen on us. My dad’s well-heeled. Normally that would be a safe topic, right? How did you two meet?
Did Graham and I ever really agree on a story? My mind spins.
Graham’s not panicking though.
“I saw her walking down the street one evening,” he says calmly, “and asked her out. She didn’t want to at first—thought I was weird—then she realized there were some perks to dating me.”
I stuff potatoes in my mouth so I don’t have to answer, just nod.
Colette’s not buying it.
“So you just… saw Dani on the street and thought she was hot, then you asked her out? What was she wearing, her fancy Crocs?”
“I don’t wear Crocs to the office.”
Piper makes a face.
“Okay, once, one time, because the train door closed on my foot.”
“I like your Crocs.” Graham smirks at me. “Besides, you’re not running for the subway in four-inch heels, are you?”
“Lulu likes the subway, and walking is good exercise.”
“I’m going to start sending a car for you, darling.”
“Dani’s a real New Yorker. You’d have to kidnap her and drive away in your car for her to stop taking the subway.” Jeremy laughs at his joke.
Piper chokes on her fish. “Kidnap—”
“Water?” I shoot daggers at Piper and mouth, Get it together.
Graham’s face goes blank as he waits a beat too long before responding. “Yes, I suppose I might.”
My dad, ever the romantic at heart, swoons. “What did you notice about her? What drew you to her?”
“Dad.”
“What! When I saw your mother across the quad, I thought she was the coolest girl I’d ever seen.
She had on a black sweater and these big sunglasses, and she was holding a sign protesting the English department not letting people handwrite their assignments—they wanted all computers or typewriters. ” He stares dreamily at my mother.
“And Hank had his tie undone. I thought he was such a rebel.” My mom pats my dad’s collar.
Graham is quiet. Too quiet.
When I finally bring myself to look at him, he’s already looking at me.
It’s too intense—those green eyes, steady and unguarded.
“Graham,” my dad prompts him gently.
Graham doesn’t look away from me. “Dani…” he says, and my name sounds different in his mouth. Slower. Careful. “When I saw her—”
I brace myself for a joke, for an underhanded comment, for deflection. He exhales, just once.
“I thought she was… nice,” he says.
That’s it?
Not pretty. Not smart. Not impressive.
Just—nice.
“Nice?” Gran scowls. “Nice tits, you mean.”
“Well, that too.” Graham smirks at me. “Especially when she’s wearing nothing but my shirt. But nice… I mean, she’s kind and funny and easygoing, and she was so gracious with my siblings.”
My chest tightens. I don’t know why that’s the thing that does it.
“I remember thinking”—he continues, still watching me—“‘That’s the type of woman you could easily spend a hundred years with and then at the end think, God, that went by fast… I could do a hundred more.’”
The room is quiet again.
My dad clears his throat, soft but pleased. My mom smiles into her wine.
I can’t quite breathe.
Because I didn’t think Graham noticed me like that.
I didn’t think he noticed me at all.
But the way he looks at me now, like he’s said exactly what he meant and nothing more…
A thought comes to me.
Something unsettling.
Was he answering honestly?