Chapter Three ADAM
Chapter Three
ADAM
Soft music drifts through the empty restaurant entryway.
The two guards standing by the tall columns, and a kind-looking woman who takes our jackets, are the only souls in sight.
My hand goes rigid on Alexandra’s back as I guide her toward the main dining room.
I should’ve guessed Jackie would book out the entire place to give Carter and Eliza some privacy.
Heat builds behind my ribs. It’s the first time I’ll be in the same room with her since the tent. The odd mix of anticipation and something I don’t want to name pushed me into one or two glasses of hard liquor on my way out.
My date slips her arm through mine, smiling up at me, unaware of the direction of my thoughts.
If I had any kind of appetite, my mouth would water at the long table in the middle of the room, already filled with appetizers and drinks.
Besides the family and their guests, the only other people in the round room are the waitstaff and the security guards who follow the Rawlings everywhere, posted near every door.
Heads turn the second my date’s stilettos click on the hardwood floor. Too many curious eyes are on us. I shove the hesitation down and force a grin.
“I was beginning to have my doubts, but you’re actually doing this.” I hug Carter and pat him on the back. I don’t miss the raised eyebrow in Alexandra’s direction.
His voice is low, nodding toward his sister. “Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, considering what Jackie’s been through. But she insisted, and Eliza deserves to celebrate with our families.”
“So do you. A year ago, we didn’t know if you’d make it.”
The reminder is sobering.
I don’t know any other two people more deserving of their happy ending. I’m lucky to be here and witness it all.
Carter straightens and turns his full attention to my date. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Oh, sure.” Alexandra’s been hovering behind me, flashing a polite smile at all the people sizing her up more or less openly.
Clara Rawlings wears her perfect socialite smile when I bring Alexandra over to greet her. Robertson and his son, Logan, are not as subtle, their scrunched eyebrows comically identical.
“How lovely,” Carter’s mom says sweetly. “We finally get to meet one of Adam’s lady friends.”
Ouch, I felt that dig in my soul. Luckily, my date doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
Eliza’s friends, Quinn, Martha, and Sam, whom I met when I visited Carter in Maine, are friendlier. They seem oblivious to the tension radiating from the rest of the table and nod and smile warmly.
Unfortunately, our seats are right across from Jackie. The reason I decided to bring a plus one in the first place. The blonde, stone-faced reason I brought backup.
My manners switch onto autopilot as I pull out the chair for my date, though my shirt collar suddenly feels two sizes too small. The unease grates on my nerves. I’ve done nothing wrong, I remind myself.
“This place is amazing,” Alexandra gushes, clasping my hand with no hesitation, and I can feel Jackie’s stare burning a hole in my temple.
The restaurant is one of the most exclusive in New York, but warm and cozy, more hunting lodge than overwhelming luxury. It’s not a coincidence that Jackie chose it, and it reminds me why I once thought she was one of the kindest and most considerate people I’ve ever met.
Eliza grew up in foster care, her friends are normal people living in a small town in New England, and Carter’s uncle runs a farm.
I’m familiar with how it feels to come from a modest background, and to struggle not to be bowled over by the Rawlings’ world.
The first time Carter invited me to his home, I was afraid I’d break something.
The bitter truth is that Jackie’s care for the people she loves didn’t fade with time; it simply didn’t extend to me anymore. I wish that would make it easier to hate her.
“I swear,” Logan snaps loudly, pulling the table’s attention. “If you bring up that charity ball one more time, I’ll move my operations to Asia and never set foot in New York again.”
Robertson’s not perturbed by his son’s dramatics. “I was only saying it’s a great place to socialize with smart and socially engaged young ladies.”
“And I’m telling you, I’m not interested.”
“I volunteer to take your place,” Quinn jumps in. “I wouldn’t mind a night of fancy dresses, free booze, and maybe meeting men that are not on the FBI’s most wanted list.”
I choke on the laugh I bite back. The pixie menace has no filter, and I adore her for it.
Jackie shoots a worried glance toward Eliza, but my best friend’s fiancée doesn’t flinch at the mention of what happened last fall.
Carter’s mom can’t hide her outrage, to everyone’s amusement. “Those events are more than open bars and speed dating. They support important causes…”
“She’s kidding, Mom.” Jackie’s soft laugh rings the loudest in my ears, and she turns to Quinn. “Don’t be fooled by the glitz and glamor, they’re usually boring as hell.”
“And I can tell you for sure that some of those guests have had their fair share of brushes with the law,” I say, emboldened by the couple of whiskeys I had at home.
That’s when Jackie looks straight at me for the first time since I arrived. I could never hide from her. The glassiness in my eyes tells her all she needs to know.
God, she’s painfully beautiful. How am I supposed to survive this dinner and not make a fool of myself? Being close enough to see the crinkles around her eyes when she smiles, the rise of her chest with every breath, and hear her giggle with Eliza is pure torture.
I wanted to prove to her, to myself, that I’ve moved on. But even my damn pulse betrays me the moment she laughs.
Alexandra snaps me out of it. “You’ll take me to one of those balls, won’t you?” She bats her eyelashes at me and leans closer to whisper in my ear, but Jackie doesn’t miss it, and her features smooth over again, giving me nothing.
“I’m not a fan either,” I tell her as a half-truth. I mostly attend those events to extract sensitive information from Fortune 500 execs when they’ve had one overpriced champagne bottle too many. And to slowly die on the inside when I catch a glimpse of Jackie gliding graciously through the crowd.
My date is not ready to drop it. She presses closer, breasts against my arm. “I can think of some ways to make it more fun for you,” she purrs.
On the other side of the table, Jackie’s skin flushes red at the base of her neck. A heart-shaped patch right between her collarbones. It’s a warning signal I recognize. It blooms when she’s angry or nervous.
Or horny. I wish I didn’t know that.
I tear my gaze away, moving it to Carter and Eliza. They’re leaning in, elbows on the table, hands intertwined. Carter lifts her fingers and kisses the back of her hand, looking at her with unguarded adoration. Eliza turns, scanning the table until her eyes land on Jackie.
“Why didn’t you bring Will?” she asks lightly. “I’d have loved to meet him.”
Jackie dabs her lips with her linen napkin, then smiles. “You’ll get the chance. He’s staying for a week.”
Who the fuck is Will?
Then she turns those icy blues on me. “He had the decency not to intrude on a family event.”
And there it is again. The familiar burn of embarrassment.
The same one that stung the first time I stepped onto Harvard’s campus.
A different world, in which everybody seemed to speak another language.
There was a code I didn’t know how to break.
It bled into the way students dressed, the way they carried themselves, like they never once second-guessed their right to be there.
It took me a long time to learn how not to be the odd one out.
But I guess Jackie still sees me that way. Like I don’t belong.
“This place was worth putting on real pants for,” Martha cuts in cheerfully. “Remember our anniversary here, twenty years ago?” She turns to Sam. “First and last time I ever saw a Broadway play. Then we had that chicken parm around the corner. I thought that was fancy.”
Her husband’s mustache bristles with a smile. “Back then you could walk into a place and tell what kind of night you were about to have just by the smell.”
“Surprised you could smell anything,” Kenneth, Carter’s uncle, says, laughing, his sunburned face creasing. “That was back when everyone smoked inside and you could’ve cut the air with a saw.”
His blonde, kind-faced wife arches a brow. “Did you forget why I turned you down over a hundred times after high school?”
He leans back, tugging at the old-fashioned jacket he probably wears at all the weddings, mouth clamped ruefully.
Clara’s graceful voice clears it up. “He smoked like a chimney. Smelled dreadful. No wonder poor Linda wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole until he quit.”
The table fills with laughter. At the head, Carter and Eliza lean together, heads touching, watching it all with quiet happiness at their blended family. Blood or not.
The main course arrives, thank God, and I latch onto the moment like a lifeline. The nutty scent of butter melting over lobster reaches me even before the waiter places the neat plate in front of me.
“Jackie,” Eliza coos, hands clasped as she admires her carefully arranged claw and knuckle meat in the toasted homemade roll.
“It is your engagement dinner?” Jackie says, leaning in for a better view before flashing her future sister-in-law a wide grin. “Tell me if it’s better than Carter’s.”
He rolls his eyes at his sister’s antics, but Eliza turns and gives him a quick kiss. “Nothing compares to you, darling.”
The whole table awws in unison.
I catch Jackie’s smile, eyes gone just a little glassy.
And truly, what better way to shake myself out of this pathetic pining than to annoy her even more? It’s my go-to survival mechanism when it comes to her.
I reach out with my fork and take a bite of lobster from my date’s plate. “Just making sure it’s not poisoned. Can’t be too careful,” I say with a wink.