Chapter 12 #2
“Remember, darling, you promised no tomatoes in those eggs,” Hayes murmurs into my hair, loud enough for his mother to think he’s whispering sweet nothings but soft enough for only me to hear exactly what he’s saying.
I think.
“Making you happy is my favorite thing in the world,” I reply, louder for our audience.
It’s a Razzle Dazzle line. It’s a total Razzle Dazzle line. Not long after we turned twenty-one, Hyacinth and I had a weekend of bingeing as many of our favorite Razzle Dazzle films as we could fit into two and a half days, and drinking every time a main character said the line.
We weren’t falling-down drunk at the end of the first ten-hour marathon, but we’d gone through more vodka shots than we thought we would. And I have no idea if they still use it, but as of about ten years ago, they’d used it plenty.
“If only I didn’t have to work today,” Hayes replies, and I almost choke on air.
That might be the second-most common line ever recited in a Razzle Dazzle film. At least six scenes have flashed through my head with various actors on various sets.
And is that—is that a twinkle in Hayes’s eyes?
No.
I’m imagining it.
He reaches for the coffee mug and takes a sip.
And if it weren’t for the way half his face twitches before he turns and lifts the mug in his mother’s direction, I’d swear he was being completely honest when he says, “Delicious. I’ll never drink coffee another way again.
Mother. Pack your bags. You can stay for brunch, and then you’re leaving by two. I’ll book your ferry myself.”
He stalks out of the room like that’s that, no room for argument, and I catch myself rolling my eyes.
But not before Giovanna catches me too. “So he’s not your first boyfriend who likes to issue orders?” she murmurs.
“He’s a man.” I sigh heavily. “We have to put up with the ego to get the rest of them.”
She blinks at me once, and then Giovanna Rutherford laughs.
And not just any laugh.
This laugh comes with a snort .
And a fart.
I am not kidding.
Giovanna Rutherford, Jonas Rutherford’s mom, matriarch of the world’s most perfect family, billionaire in her own right, just laughed so hard that she farted .
Hayes pauses, jerking his head in her direction as she covers her mouth and pretends she didn’t fart. “Oh, goodness. Snort -laughing doesn’t happen often, does it?” she says.
I don’t know if I’m nodding or shaking my head. Somewhere in between, definitely. We’re just gonna pretend that little fart didn’t happen.
“Giovanna? Are you okay?” Amelia floats into the kitchen on a pillow of gilded perfection—okay, she’s walking, but it’s like she’s trained in the art of walking like you’re floating on a cloud-pillow—and her brows are perfectly arched like she’s both amused and concerned.
Giovanna slips an arm around my waist. “Begonia has quite the sense of humor.”
The man being mocked continues his petulant stalk away.
And he’s still carrying the coffee I made him, which I’d bet he’ll be feeding to a plant before too long.
“A sense of humor is a nice change,” Amelia says. “Didn’t you say his last girlfriend was an engineering grad student?”
“Oh, what kind?” I ask. “My stepfather’s a civil engineer.
You wouldn’t think he had a sense of humor, but Hyacinth and I used to distract him all the time with knock-knock jokes.
It’d take him out of a bad mood like that .
Mostly because he had about seven thousand of them memorized, and we only had to laugh at the first dozen or so before he’d yell for my mom to come listen too, and then we’d disappear. ”
Amelia blinks at me.
Giovanna clears her throat, a smile still playing on the edges of her lips. “You’re quite laid-back, aren’t you?”
Today? No. No, not at all. “The sun’s shining, the scenery is gorgeous, and I have a cantankerous boyfriend with a heart of gold under all his gruff. What’s to be upset about? Unless you’re the kind who gets hangry, I suppose. Marshmallow ! Put the knife down. You know you can’t cook.”
I slip away from Giovanna, rescue the chef’s knife from my dog, and tell him to go chase butterflies.
It’s literally the only command he regularly takes from me.
“It’s interesting that Hayes doesn’t mind your dog.” Amelia slides onto a stool across the high counter that separates the kitchen from the dining nook. “He made me give up my dog when we got married in second grade, and I’d swear he’s only gotten more uptight since then.”
“Oh, he doesn’t like Marshmallow.” I smile at her as I scrub the knife. “I gave him an ultimatum. Me with the dog, or no me at all. Honestly, I thought he’d tell me to pack my bags, but I guess I’m worth taking daily allergy medicine for.”
I’m being catty with Amelia Shawcross.
Definitely time to go dunk my head in the ocean.
“Do you have plans this afternoon, Begonia?” Giovanna asks. “We’d love to have you join us in town.”
“Such a treat,” Amelia agrees.
I’m fairly certain she means we’ll find the most remote corner of the island and tie you to a rock where, if you’re lucky, someone will hear your screams and come rescue you before the tide rolls in and the seagulls peck out your eyeballs .
For the record, I rarely pick up on the subtle dangers of love triangles.
Love triangles?
Is it a triangle when Hayes has made it abundantly clear he wants to be a hermit for the rest of his life and is only using me to hide from the woman his mother wants him to date? Is a love wall a thing?
And why is his mother being so nice to me?
Is she killing me with kindness?
I need Hyacinth. She has just the right amount of cynicism in her bones to be able to guide me through this.
Plus, she reads gossip rags, whereas I just got to study the headlines in my brief time in the checkout line at the market this morning.
She’ll know if there are rumors that Amelia wants Hayes for real, and not just because she wants to make Giovanna happy.
“You’re…staying?” I ask as delicately as possible.
“Cantankerous with a heart of gold, I believe you said?” she replies. “After two weddings and that devastating funeral, you’ll excuse me if I want to make sure he’s fine for myself. Do you have children, Begonia?”
“Just Marshmallow.”
“I couldn’t sleep if I wasn’t here to see for myself that he’s fine.
It doesn’t matter how old or self-sufficient your children get, there’s no replacing a mother’s worry.
So forgive me for staying an extra day to take my son’s new girlfriend shopping while still hovering closely enough to be here if he needs me.
My security team is excellent, so we won’t have to worry about being interrupted if we don’t want to be. ”
“Oh, but everyone in town is so nice.”
I get matching bland smiles from the two rich ladies in the room.
It’s a clear stay in your lane, Begonia .
And I know my lane.
My lane is entertaining Hayes’s mother and her guest so that he can get his work done, and so that he doesn’t throw me out of his house.
This is what I wanted.
Adventure.
New experiences.
A chance to live in a world I’d never be able to experience otherwise in my tiny little existence working in a high school in a suburb just outside of Richmond.
And if we are photographed together, and they make it into the gossip rags, and Hyacinth sees them and shows my mother, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
I’m actually counting on it.
So today, I’ll make brunch with Giovanna, then I’ll spend the afternoon shopping, go on a dinner cruise with Hayes tonight—Georgia O’Keefe help me if he was serious—and find myself a few new goals for my nest egg, since I’m apparently seeing Monet’s waterlilies this weekend.
This is all good.
Even if Hayes makes me sleep in the closet so I’m not tempted to try to talk him into having sex with me again.
And hey, now I get to say I mortified myself in front of the world’s last eligible billionaire bachelor.
Not exactly the experience I was hoping for, but I’ll roll with it.
That’s what this trip is about.
Time to get back to my purpose. I’ll live this up and find myself again if it kills me.