Chapter 9
Elena
By the time Elena and Maya finished their drinks, the staff was guiding everyone toward the dinner tables under the trees. Soft music played as guests searched for their names on the elegant cream place cards.
“Elena Waldorf,” Maya read dramatically from a card. “Still sounds iconic.”
Elena laughed. Her friend loved hyping her up.
They were weaving between the tables when a sharp, loud whisper cut through the music.
“Oh, honestly. Look at her parading around as if she’s one of us.”
Elena slowed down instantly. Near a massive floral arrangement stood a woman wearing enough diamonds to fund a small country and enough Botox to freeze her face permanently. Beside her was an equally miserable-looking friend nodding along.
“I still don’t understand what kind of spell that girl put on Aaron,” the first woman gossiped, clutching her champagne flute. “Her mother literally worked for his father.”
The friend gasped theatrically. “Worked where?”
“In the Archibald estate. House staff. A cook, or something, her father was a servant for the Archibalds too.” she whispered, wrinkling her nose. “And now we’re expected to sit together like we’re equals. We shouldn't have to mingle with the help.”
Beside Elena, Maya went completely stiff.
Elena stopped walking. Slowly, she turned to face Maya, who was already turning to face her.
The silent agreement passed between them instantly.
Oh, these bitches are about to suffer.
Ivy's mom was a hard worker, and Ivy had always been proud of her. Hearing these two status-obsessed vultures look down on her at her own daughter's party was the absolute limit.
Maya swiped two glasses of Cabernet off a passing tray, handing one to Elena with a dangerous glint in her eye.
“Brace yourself,” Maya whispered. “I'm going down.”
“I'll try to catch you,” Elena promised.
They didn't even make it past the floral arrangement before Maya 'lost her footing' with all the grace of a drunk flamingo. She collided right into Elena, and both of their glasses emptied entirely onto the two snobs.
The high-society screams were music to Elena’s ears. Thousands of dollars of designer silk were instantly stained a deep, un-washable purple.
“Oh my goodness, I am incredibly sorry!” Elena said, her face a mask of pure, fake regret.
“It’s the grass,” Maya explained to the frozen, glaring women. “You really shouldn't stand in the splash zone.”
They strolled away before the women could even find their words. As they got to their actual table, Maya whispered, “My finest work yet.” Elena smiled thoroughly enjoying the scene.
*****
By the time dinner finally started, the lake had turned completely black, reflecting nothing but the twinkling lanterns and the glow from the fire pits. From a distance, the scene probably looked elegant and magical.
From Elena’s seat, it felt like a social endurance test specifically designed to test her sanity.
Maya sat on her left, which was a blessing. William sat on her right, already looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep.
And sitting right next to William? Carter.
Of course.
Elena genuinely wanted to find the psychopath responsible for this seating chart and punch them.
Elena’s silent panic attack was cut short when she looked across the table and met the eyes of Alex and Nick— William’s elder brothers.
Having practically grown up in the Harrington household, she was less of a childhood friend of Will and more like an unofficial sister—which meant they knew her tells perfectly, and her current misery was their favorite free entertainment.
Alex, the eldest, possessed that calm, quiet power that naturally made people clear a path for him in a room.
He met Elena's eyes and gave her a subtle, reassuring nod that said you’ve got this, completely dismissing Carter as any real threat.
Next to him, Nick—the middle brother and a total rogue—was the exact opposite.
He was practically vibrating with amusement, leaning in with a sharp, teasing smirk that said oh, I can't wait to hear about this later.
Elena let out a quiet breath, her shoulders finally dropping as she gave him a subtle roll of her eyes.
Aaron and Ivy were up at the mic giving a beautiful toast, but Elena’s brain was entirely offline. Carter was one seat away. He looked better than ever, and she was so frustratingly aware of his existence it was making her dizzy.
The only person who seemed as miserable as she was was Will. Caught in the dead center of two exes who were moments away from ripping each other's throats out, Will looked like a man on a sinking ship. It was a genuinely tough gig, especially when you were the mutual best friend of both parties.
Elena almost felt pity for him.
Almost.
That traitor had apparently been secretly friends with her ex all these years, so really, he deserved a little suffering.
Still, she had to give him the credit.
Will was working overtime to keep the peace. He practically hosted the table between courses, intercepting awkward silences like a pro, and kept himself distracted by bickering with Maya over tomorrow’s yacht race—specifically, whether it was a sport or just “rich people cosplaying as pirates.”
“It is absolutely a sport,” William argued.
“No,” Maya replied firmly. “A sport requires sweat, Will. Sitting on a luxury boat while wearing boat shoes and drinking champagne is just an aggressive picnic.”
The conversation drifted easily after that. Travel stories. Wedding gossip. Complaints about the humidity destroying expensive hairstyles. But then tomorrow’s yacht race came up again.
“You know,” Maya said thoughtfully, leaning her chin on her hand. “I still don’t understand why everyone here is acting like this race is the Olympics.”
“Because some people take competition very seriously,” Alex replied.
Elena watched as his dark eyes locked onto Maya with a slow, intense look and completely ignoring the rest of the table.
Maya actually paused, and Elena mentally raised an eyebrow at the unexpected spark of tension vibrating between her best friend and Will's oldest brother.
Elena lifted her glass slowly, a brilliant, petty opportunity dropping right into her lap.
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“Although, I suppose tomorrow might be stressful for some people. I've known guys who literally cannot do anything without reading a step-by-step guidebook first. Maybe we should check the docks for a library tomorrow morning.”
Across the table, Alex and Nick exchanged a knowing look, instantly recognizing the jab.
Beside William, Carter let out a quiet, relaxed laugh. “Interesting. Because I know some people who pretend they’re far too cool to read, but secretly devour trashy romance novels in bed.”
Oh, no. He did not just say that.
Elena felt a wave of heat rush straight to her face, her cheeks instantly burning bright red.
Will sighed into his wine glass, officially giving up on the night.
Elena took another sip of champagne, her voice casual but sharp. “At least I don’t suck the joy out of every experience by turning it into a five-step strategy meeting.”
“Some of us,” Carter replied smoothly. Elena saw him leaning in from the corner of her eye, “actually work for our skills instead of surviving entirely on charm and pretty smiles.”
She finally turned toward him fully for the first time all evening.
That smug look on his face made Elena want to throw a bread roll at him.
“William,” Elena said sweetly, “could you please tell your favorite client to stop pretending he invented the concept of hard work?”
Without missing a beat, Carter looked at Will too. “Will, please tell your most difficult client I appreciate the passion behind that statement.”
Although they hadn't raised their voices, the sheer volume of their petty energy had caused the entire table to stop talking. Heads were swinging back and forth between them as if watching a high-stakes, live tennis match.
Meanwhile, William looked like a man actively reconsidering every single friendship he had ever made.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, pointing a warning finger at both of them. “I swear to God, if either of you ruins this wedding weekend—”
“We won't,” Elena and Carter said simultaneously.
The perfect synchronization only made William look more exhausted.
“What lunatic made this seating chart?” Will demanded miserably, looking across the table at his brothers for help. “Why wasn’t I seated with my brothers?”
Nick leaned slightly toward Alex, completely ignoring their brother's despair. “So, how long till one of them throws a fork?”
Alex smirked, tapping his chin. “Wanna bet on who does it first?”
“I can hear you,” Carter muttered dryly, shooting them a sharp look.
Elena took a slow sip of her champagne, wincing internally as she realized her grand plan to stay entirely unfazed had officially lasted all of five minutes.