Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
JULIET
Elena, the event planner from Events by RHC in Bridgehampton, is perched on the edge of her seat with a sleek leather portfolio open on the table in front of her.
Her manicured nails tap lightly as she flips through swatches of fabric and printed mood boards, her bob haircut swinging precisely with each movement.
We've been at this for over an hour now, laying out every detail for the party, and my iPad's balanced on my knee. The screen’s bright with Pinterest boards I've been scrolling through, images of string lights draped like fairy webs over manicured lawns, floral arches bursting with peonies and hydrangeas.
Elena's brought along a vendor list too, thick packets of proposals from caterers offering to serve foie gras on brioche toasts or fresh oyster shooters with mignonette.
In her files, there are also companies that do tent rentals with sailcloth designs that glow softly at night.
I lean forward and point to a photo on my iPad.
"What about these lantern setups? We could hang them from the oaks along the main path, maybe mix in some Edison bulbs for that vintage glow to keep it elegant but not too over-the-top."
Elena nods and agrees enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up behind her chic tortoiseshell glasses. She then pulls a sample from her portfolio—a swatch of ivory linen for the tablecloths, soft and textured like it could whisper secrets.
"Absolutely, Mrs. Bessant. That would tie in perfectly with the natural vibe.
And for the florals, I've got quotes from Flowers by Brian in Water Mill.
They can source seasonal blooms like dahlias and ranunculus, arrange them in low centerpieces so guests can chat across the tables without obstruction.
We're looking at around two hundred paying guests, right?
Based on last year's attendance, we'll need at least twenty round tables, eight-toppers, with chiavari chairs in gold to elevate the look. "
I hum in agreement, and scroll to another pin of desserts cascading down in tiers, surrounded by fresh strawberries. My mouth waters a bit at the sight.
Frances sets her cup down with a soft clink on the saucer and glances between us, her regal posture straight despite the slight tremble in her hands.
"So, Carolyn, which theme are you leaning toward? Elena's suggested a few—Enchanted Forest, Riviera Garden, and a Mediterranean twist. What's catching your fancy?"
I pause, my thumb hovering over the iPad screen, feeling a flush creep up my neck despite the gentle fan whirring overhead. Just one week ago, it would have been unthinkable for Frances to ask for my opinion.
Affair in the Garden. God, just thinking the words sends a shiver through me, my body remembering too vividly that bench by the lake, and the way I straddled him. Hot damn! How I rode him while the roses brushed my forearms like teasing fingers.
I try not to blush and focus on the cool glass of iced tea sweating on the table beside me—lemon slices floating lazily. "Well," I start, setting my iPad down.
"All Elena’s suggestions sound lovely, but I still have a soft spot for the Affair in the Garden idea. It's simple, ties into the estate's grounds so naturally, and... it just feels right."
“I agree,” Frances says firmly.
Elena tilts her head and jots a note on her legal pad with a sleek Montblanc pen, the scratch of it soft against the paper.
"I agree. Good choice. It’s the classic choice. It’s romantic and whimsical. We can amp it up with interactive elements for a subtle nod to intrigue."
Frances smiles faintly, her eyes on me with that perceptive glint, like she sees more than I let on.
"Affair in the Garden it is, then. We’re supporting the Orphaned Starfish Foundation this year, right?
They've been doing wonderful work with orphaned children across New York and beyond, and I hope we can raise more than enough for them.”
I nod, picking up my iced tea. “I hope so too,” I say. “I'll help with whatever you and Dora need, Frances—the invitations, coordinating the auction items.”
Frances smiles at me, a real one that crinkles the corners of her eyes.
"You're doing a great job with this, Carolyn," she says softly, her voice carrying a note of surprise mixed with genuine warmth.
Her hand reaches out to pat mine briefly, frail but steady.
"I have to admit, it's been a pleasure working together like this.
You've got a real knack for pulling it all together. "
I feel a warmth bloom in my chest, not just from her words but from the way she says them, like she's seeing me—really seeing me—and it tugs at something deep, that orphan ache I've carried forever, making my throat tighten a bit.
"Thanks, Frances," I murmur, squeezing her hand back gently, the paper between us rustling.
"It means a lot. I just want it to be perfect—for the kids, for everyone. "
“Now it’s time for us to sort through the invitation mockups,” Elena says brightly, producing a stack of thick cream cardstock embossed with gold foil vines that catch the light.
And that is the moment my phone buzzes on the table, a sharp vibration that cuts through the quiet. I glance down, heart skipping as Blake's name lights up the screen.
The text is simple:
A colleague invited us to join him and his wife for dinner tonight. Vibe is casual. Are you in?
I stare at it, a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in my stomach - dinner with his colleague. This is surprising, but it is a chance to spend time with him outside the house, so despite my nervousness, I choose not to decline.