Chapter 4 #3
She was going to ignore it—it was probably just her parents—but then Hallie’s, which was on top of the counter, did the same.
Hallie didn’t have the same reservations about using her phone at work, which made a lot of sense; she was, after all, the boss.
Quickly, Hallie scanned the text message, and it reminded Brynn that she had no idea what went on in Hallie’s life when she wasn’t working.
She hoped that would change one day since making friends wasn’t exactly easy for Brynn, and they seemed, at least from her perspective, to be getting along well.
She was surprised when Hallie commented, still looking down at her phone, “We’ve been summoned to Cape Canoodle for dinner on Tuesday night. You’re in the group text, too.”
Brows furrowed, Brynn pulled out her own phone. It was a text from Reese to both of them.
Reese Devereux - 7:05 a.m.
Dinner on Tuesday night? Figured it would be great for us to all catch up ahead of Hallie heading out of town!
Brynn tried the words out loud, a question in need of clarification more than anything else. “Cape Canoodle?”
Hallie laughed guilelessly. “They know that I call it that, for the record,” she said as she made a circle with her hands that she squeezed inward. “Because they’re ensconced in their own little bubble over there.”
Brynn nodded, taking in Hallie’s words. She hadn’t ever been completely wrapped up in anything, truly, except for school.
The idea of being wrapped up in another person was just so…
foreign. Still, it seemed nice. If nothing else, this would be a chance for her to spend a little more time with Sydney.
Which, when she thought about it, made her grow buzzy with anxiety that settled over her like an itchy blanket.
She scratched at her arm. “I’m happy to work on Tuesday night so that you can go. ”
Hallie shot her a bemused look and stood up straighter. “Oh, you aren’t getting out of this. We’ll go later in the evening. I’ll send the intercom through to my phone.”
Brynn mirrored Hallie’s posture so they stood facing one another, the corner of the desk between them. “We can do that?” she asked, already filing the information away for later.
“No one really uses it, but it’s helpful to have in case of emergencies.
I should have led with that during your training.
You’d probably have loved it.” There it was, that smile again, but not like Brynn was the butt of the joke.
More like they were sharing in one. Hallie really did have this effortless way of making Brynn feel like it was okay to be herself.
With that in mind, she relaxed. For some reason, she felt like if Hallie was going to be there, it would all be okay. “Guess we’re going to Cape Canoodle.”
Hallie hadn’t been exaggerating about Reese and Sydney.
If she hadn’t mentioned it to Brynn a few days ago, though, Brynn probably wouldn’t have noticed.
Her parents were very much the same way when they were together, constantly in sync with one another in a way that she rarely saw modeled elsewhere.
But with Hallie pointing her in the direction of the happy couple, even she could admit that Cape Canoodle, which she’d grown fond of repeating in her head, was giving the Fitzpatricks a run for their money.
The dinner party was seated at a gorgeous wooden dining table, Brynn and Hallie on one side, Sydney and Reese on the other.
The Cape Cod they’d called home for the last three months had been updated at some point, an open concept that blended the kitchen, dining room, and living area into one large space.
A perfect layout for a couple that couldn’t seem to take their eyes off one another.
“This chicken parm is delicious, Reese.” Brynn put down her fork. She couldn’t manage another bite, even if it was the first non-delivered food she’d had in a week and a half.
“Thanks, Brynn.” Reese looked over at Sydney, her voice filled with so much affection when she added, “Sydney did all the heavy lifting on the sauce. Everything else is just accompaniment.”
Brynn turned her attention to Sydney, still a little unsure how to navigate the complexity of their relationship. “Well, kudos on the sauce. It’s all really incredible.”
Sydney gave her a kind smile that she didn’t feel like she deserved, given what Brynn had accidentally been party to where Sydney was concerned. “I appreciate that, Brynn.”
Hallie jumped in then, pointing her fork at her almost finished meal.
“And you got me the dairy-free cheese, so I get the full parmesan effect. The good stuff, too.” As anyone who had to eat cheese substitutes knew—a fact Brynn had recently learned from Hallie—there were a lot of bad ones.
“Thank you, Reese. Such simple joys fill my cup.” Even though Hallie downplayed it, she did seem genuinely grateful that Reese had gone to the trouble of accounting for her.
Brynn had learned, by day two of her training, that Hallie was allergic to dairy products, so the kitchen always had a carafe of oat milk available as a creamer along with half-and-half.
And Brynn was more than a little relieved that she hadn’t sent Hallie into an allergic reaction when she’d offered her a cup of coffee with dairy creamer in it that morning. She hadn’t made the same mistake twice.
She watched as Sydney’s brow lifted, a smile tugging at her lips. “No one wants to watch you break out in hives,” at the same time that Reese said, “You’re welcome.”
Everyone laughed, like Hallie was generally able to make people do. It was something Brynn had noticed when she watched Hallie engage with guests. Usually, Brynn had assessed, it was with self-deprecating humor or observational comedy. Brynn had tried to study the trait. Quantify it. Emulate it.
So far, she’d come up empty in employing it.
After stabbing her fork into the last piece of chicken on her plate, Hallie took the bite and chewed thoughtfully before she said, “That’s a fair point. Would really put a damper on this wild affair. Definitely no clubbing later.”
“Don’t act like you’re bored. You don’t even like clubbing,” Sydney batted back to Hallie.
Hallie responded like she’d been challenged. “I could club. The Lobster Trap has a live DJ on Saturdays now. Did you know that?”
Slowly, Sydney shook her head back and forth. “Can’t believe I missed that in The Stoneport Bulletin. Or that we’re considering The Trap a club now.”
Hallie nodded solemnly. “I’ll always be here to help you stay relevant, Sydney King. Wouldn’t want those kids at the tennis center to ever deem you uncool.”
“If any of those sixteen-year-olds find themselves at The Trap, they’re going to have way bigger problems with me than whether they think I’m cool or not.”
Brynn had noticed, then, that Hallie and Sydney teased one another a lot. Usually about things that seemed so ridiculous that even Brynn could pick up on the joke. Because, obviously, Sydney was a very cool person. She was famous. And beautiful.
Brynn scrunched up her nose, trying to imagine Reese and Sydney hanging out in a place called The Lobster Trap. Maybe she’d check it out one day, just to form her own opinion.
The rest of dinner meandered through what Brynn would consider safe conversational topics.
Reese’s new business venture. Sydney’s work coaching prodigious young tennis players at The Manhaven Center.
They’d lightly discussed Brynn getting up to speed at the inn, where Hallie continued to be very gracious about her abilities.
What they hadn’t discussed was the elephant in the room—Grant Devereux IV.
The conversation moved around her, with Hallie telling Reese a story about her and Sydney in their youth. Something about them flooding a room at The Stone’s Throw while they’d been trying to make a private swimming pool.
It gave Brynn a chance for her thoughts to turn inward, which they always seemed to do.
She wasn’t champing at the bit to get into her failed engagement, but it felt like there was a wall up between everyone—or between her and everyone, at least—and she didn’t know how to move past it. Or she was just really bad at small talk.
Maybe this was just how dinner parties went, especially if everyone wasn’t close to one another. Brynn wasn’t sure, given that she’d never been to one that her parents hadn’t hosted. She loved a situation where she could disappear whenever she wanted, if everything got to be too much.
She’d attended sporadic events with her father or parents over the years—coincidentally, she’d met Grant at one–but she wasn’t a regular on the social circuit.
It wasn’t exactly possible to live in her world and not have to attend obligatory weddings or bar mitzvahs or the occasional charity function at the country club, especially if her mom was organizing it.
When she’d met Grant at a hotel opening a little over two years ago now, she’d just finished her second-to-last year in her PhD program.
She hadn’t done anything fun in months. Had barely seen the light of day.
And then, suddenly, there was this attractive, charming man giving her attention all night.
He’d seemed to like whatever she had to say.
Had acted interested in what she was studying.
If someone had given her a script for what the start of a relationship should look like, it would have been the night she’d met him.
A beautiful backdrop. Twinkling lights. Obscenely expensive champagne.
It was the stuff that romance novels were made of.
Only, her story with Grant had a very different ending. He wasn’t her Prince Charming, and he definitely wasn’t the person who’d help her find her parents’ brand of happiness.