Chapter 8
Penelope
Bathed in the sunset’s golden hues, Tristan’s home in the Hamptons was the venue for the Dawn Capital launch party. The outdoor
terrace overlooked the beach and the ocean was a few hundred feet away. The sea doused the shore with slowly growing waves
as high tide approached.
“So.” Xander’s eyes wandered along the party guests who were dispersed, embroiled in conversation, along the stone patio.
“Who’s on that psychotic spreadsheet?”
This was not a conversation I ever wanted to have with Xander. Mostly because I couldn’t trust how I felt around him. Usually
friendly, sometimes annoyed, and occasionally there was something . Regardless, it went unacknowledged and that was for the best.
I was simply drawn to him like most people were. He had a charisma about him. A way of being that made you feel important
and a part of something.
He was an aberration. A heart of gold, coated in steel.
Yet, for all his wonderful qualities, he’d never settled down. It was like he was allergic to anything meaningful. I didn’t
know much about why, but from a few stories Sloan told me, he’d only ever been serious with one person.
Maybe it wasn’t an unwillingness to share his heart, maybe it was already taken.
Either way, some things were best left alone.
“You got a look at my spreadsheet, did you?” I sighed.
He nodded.
“Well...” I looked around. Most of Manhattan high society was well represented at the party, so I lowered my voice. “There’s
Carter Billings.”
I turned the ring a few times. We’d arrived at the Hamptons too late to find a jeweler, and I still couldn’t get it off. Given
that I was affixed to his late mother’s engagement ring, I figured it would probably be best to stick close to Xander until
I found a way to remove it. We went directly to Xander’s beach house to get changed for the party and now I was avoiding everyone
we knew—making sure the diamond was turned inward and keeping my fingers clenched in a ball.
“Sloan’s ex.” Xander took a tiny sip from his glass and looked ahead. “Who else?” he challenged as if he were awaiting my
serve, preparing his return shot across the court.
At the other side of the terrace, next to the bar, talking to Jackson Prince was another suitable candidate. “Sebastian Amherst.”
My anxiety must have been apparent because he took a drink from a circulating server as they floated by and handed it to me.
It also acted as a perfect way to hide the diamond.
“Our Central Park nemesis’s older brother,” Xander said casually, as if the statement didn’t sound ridiculous coming from
a grown man.
Nemesis was quite literally the opposite of what Madison Amherst, Sebastian’s sister, was to Xander. They were exes and on
excellent terms. So excellent, in fact, the society section loved to speculate the relationship might begin again.
“Don’t you think you’re a little old to have a park-related nemesis?”
“Don’t you think you’re a little single to be wearing an engagement ring?”
“Trust me, I am no happier about this situation than you are.” I absent-mindedly tapped the stone against the glass.
Xander and Madison had a lot in common: both loved plants and gardening. They sat on the Central Park Conservancy board. I
was surprised when I heard they’d broken up.
Although, not too surprised.
Xander was decidedly single but seldom lonely; there wasn’t a socialite in Manhattan who wasn’t hoping she’d be the one to
get Xander Sutton to finally commit.
“You’re drawing more attention by messing with it.” Xander’s hand reached out and held mine against the glass.
I knew that, but I needed to funnel the anxious buzz into something. I released a controlled sigh and ran my hand down my
silky jade dress.
“Alright.” I looked ahead. The soft ocean breeze cooled the mild warmth that ran through my hand. “How about Ravi Shah?”
“Mind-numbingly boring.”
“Felix Sinclair.”
“Cheats at golf,” Xander answered gruffly.
“Tripp Kensington.”
“Cheats at everything else,” he grumbled. “Why not just pick names out of a hat?”
“If you’re not going to be helpful then please leave me to my list.”
“I’m serious, since it means so little to...”
I stopped paying attention to whatever quip sat at the end of his sentence because the idea Maya gave me popped back into
my mind. It seemed less awkward now that Xander had poked holes in most of the candidates I felt like I’d actually consider.
My eyes scanned the terrace and found Tristan speaking to Maya by the steps that led down to the sandy beach.
“How about Tristan?” I wondered aloud. There was no way he’d find a problem with Tristan. They were close friends.
A loud gargle burst out of him as he coughed on his drink.
“Alders?” he choked out.
“Now you’re drawing attention.” I handed him a napkin. “And yes, Tristan Alders, obviously.”
Tristan, to me, felt like what Xander must have felt like to Sloan. There was an ease I felt around him that I didn’t really
feel around Xander. Probably because there wasn’t any competing attraction to muddle the friendship. A deal with Tristan would
be clean and simple. It was a lot to ask of him, but I’d probably feel the least guilty in asking him a favor.
“No.” Xander coughed again, muffled this time.
“ No? ” A defiant irritation crackled against my skin. “I wasn’t asking your permission.”
He didn’t say anything, instead he took a long sip from his glass. Tension lined his jaw.
“And why not?” I pressed. Maybe Maya had the right idea. At first, I thought it might be too large a favor, but if I was going
to ask it of someone, Tristan seemed fine. “Tristan is nice and I trust him. It would be easy.”
His voice lowered. “You want to marry Tristan ?”
“In so many words, sure.”
He scoffed. “What part of marrying into an American political dynasty sounds easy ?”
“You were acting like this was a fun little game until I mentioned him,” I retorted, mildly offended. “Am I not good enough
for your friend?”
He raised a brow. “Becoming First Lady might hamper your plans to move back to Singapore.”
“Don’t be dramatic, we all know Tristan will never run,” I snapped as he took another sip. While his grandfather—a former president—often tried to get Tristan to join the family political dynasty, Tristan was decidedly against it. “Besides, I never said I was leaving New York.”
Xander paused and lowered his glass. His eyes moved from straight ahead to me then flickered across the terrace.
“Yes, you did.” His voice lowered to the seriousness I witnessed on the ride over.
“Fine, I did,” I conceded. That was the plan, originally, when I moved here. But I was content and I’d strongly considered
walking away from the inheritance if it weren’t for my mother’s shares. Still, on summer nights like these—the ones spent
near the water—I couldn’t deny I missed Singapore. “I’m not sure, really. I haven’t figured that part out yet.”
That was what my plan offered, a blank slate.
Freedom to be completely without a plan.
“You’ve planned out this whole marriage scheme, but not where you want to live?” Xander pinched the bridge of his nose. Something
broke his easygoing nature and frustration made its way through. “Do you know what you want, Penelope?”
Before I could say anything to answer, a familiar voice called from behind Xander.
“Xander, dearest.” Beatrice Amari’s velvet tone smoothed over the prickly conversation as she approached. She placed her hand
on Xander’s shoulder, and he turned to greet her.
Beatrice Amari, Sloan and Henry’s mother, was something of a mother figure to Xander after all this time. She was accompanied
by an older gentleman I’d never met before. His tall, athletic frame held a quiet grace. Classically handsome, his salt-and-pepper
hair was meticulously combed back.
“Mr. Herrera.” Xander smiled, as though all of our sniping didn’t happen. “Thank you for coming all the way from Mexico City.”
My mind clicked. Alejandro Herrera. Xander was courting him to acquire SunCorp. “The pleasure is all mine.” He shook Xander’s
hand. “And I must thank you for the invitation to the Hamptons, but I have a feeling it’s more than a social call.”
“I’m sure it is, but we are being terribly rude,” Beatrice interrupted and turned to me.
“My apologies.” Mr. Herrera’s drawl, rich and smooth, floated over to me along with his full attention. “Beatrice, you must
introduce me to this divine creature.”
If an eye roll was audible, Xander’s was deafening.
“Or may I call you the future Mrs. Herrera?” He took my hand and politely ran his lips just a hair’s distance from my knuckles.
He began to release my hand and suddenly stopped. My heart dropped when his fingers slowly turned the ring to reveal the diamond.
“It seems I’m too late.”
Beatrice’s eyes ran over the ring twice.
Then the loudest sound I’d ever heard her make escaped her mouth. The gasp quieted the entire party. Beatrice Amari took hold
of my hand and stared at the ring in utter disbelief. “Lily’s ring.”
Mr. Herrera looked at Xander, then me, then Beatrice; his brow scrunched.
“Lily is Xander’s late mother.” Beatrice quietly answered the unspoken question. She looked to Xander, a not-so-quiet glee
bubbling up inside her, so apparent it looked like she might burst. My panicked eyes scanned the terrace, hoping for something
to steady me. I caught a glimpse of Sloan, Henry, and Marcus looking over to me, then exchanging the same look.
Mr. Herrera chuckled and looked at Xander brightly. “Congratulations. And my apologies, it looks like we’ve made the announcement
for you.”
My mouth hung open. I had no idea what to say, how to explain this without causing a scene. “I’m not...”
“We were keeping it quiet until all the festivities for the weekend were over,” Xander answered with a calming assurance.
I looked up at him and found a momentary equilibrium in his steady gaze before I realized what he was about to do.