Chapter 21
“I saw the money origami with my own eyes, Asher. He is here,” I say as I dress for dinner in a short black silk dress that
ties around the neck.
“So many people can make origami money,” Asher says. He buttons up the white button-down and slips on a black blazer over
top. I try not to look at him as we finish getting ready in the room, still mad about our ski lessons earlier.
“Oh really, like who? Who do you know that does that?”
“Okay, no one personally but”—he lets out a defeated breath and turns to me—“Sloane, please, I need this dinner to go well.
Everyone in this house is safe tonight, and tomorrow morning we leave here. Just get through this dinner and tomorrow when
we get back to Pembroke you can have a full-on panic attack over whether or not Miles was here, okay? I cannot have you going
down there acting like I broke you out of a psych ward on our way here.”
“You don’t believe me,” I say.
“Please,” he says again, handing me his glass of scotch. “My dad is coming here tonight, and he’s . . . very particular so I just need you to be good. No, I need you to be perfect. Okay? Can you just be that? Please.”
The pleading tone that he’s speaking to me with is unsettling to say the least and does nothing to quell my anxiety. But I
take a few sips of his drink to calm myself down. Everyone is safe here, I repeat to myself.
“Fine.”
Annica is at the bottom of the staircase posing for pictures that Dani takes of her. There are a few more people gathered
in the living room that I don’t recognize. Asher points to a tall brunette standing with a slim, ginger-haired man.
“That’s Wesley’s sister Marceline and her husband, Adam. And over there”—he motions to a younger-looking girl with a blond
balayage, similar to mine—“that’s Charlotte, his other sister.”
“Is your sister here?” I remember him saying he had one on Thanksgiving.
“No, Kara really doesn’t come around much.”
“Asher, my boy!” A stocky and already drunk man with rosy cheeks approaches us as we make our way into the dining room, with
his arms out wide. The man puts an arm around Asher and roughs up his hair with the other. Asher smooths it back out, annoyed.
“Sloane, this is my dad. Dad, this is Sloane.”
“Call me Ben.” The man smiles, holding out a hand. I take it.
“Nice to meet you,” I say with a smile.
“How did my son manage to get his hands on a girl like you?” Ben teases, hitting Asher on the arm.
Wes approaches from behind Ben, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “We’re all wondering the same thing, Uncle Ben.” I laugh nervously as Asher grinds his teeth together. I see his jaw working behind his tight-lipped smile.
“Asher, why don’t you go play something on the piano while everyone mingles before dinner. You know your grandpa loves that,”
his dad says, and gives him a look, one I can’t decipher. Asher looks between the three of us apprehensively before heading
toward the piano in the corner of the dining room.
“So, Sloane.” Ben puts an arm around me, steering me away from Wes. I glance at him from over my shoulder as we walk away,
and Wes gives me a reassuring nod. “You’re the first girl Asher has ever brought home. I wonder why that is. I was starting
to think he wasn’t even interested in girls.” The thought almost makes me laugh. He is certainly interested in girls, lots
of them. He’s so interested in girls that he simply couldn’t pick just one to bring here, is what I want to say. But I just
laugh along. “What’s your family like, Sloane?”
“My family? Good, they’re good people.”
“Do they have money?”
The question throws me off guard. “Um, kind of, I mean, my stepdad does. Not like this, though.” I don’t know what kind of
answer I’m supposed to give. I just hope that’s the right one.
“So you want my son for his money, then?”
I stop abruptly. “What?! No, I would never—” I shake my head furiously.
“I’m just kidding,” Ben says. “But you can never be too sure. Ah, Charlotte, my favorite niece.” Asher’s dad turns to talk to Wesley’s sister without a formal ending to this conversation, but I take it as my cue to walk away.
Asher is at the piano playing a slow melody and I come to sit at the bench with him.
“Your dad just asked me if I’m a gold digger,” I say.
“That’s rich coming from him.” He sighs. “Just try to stay away from him. He’s no doubt here looking for handouts.”
“This is the song you played me,” I say, when I recognize the melody.
“‘Clair de Lune,’” he says. “It was my mom’s favorite.”
“Oh, I—”
“Dinner is ready, everyone!” Wesley’s mom calls out, stifling our conversation and the sound of the piano. Everyone starts
to file into the dining room to sit at the long table in the center and we get up from the bench to join them. Each seat holds
a red placemat, with more silverware than I would think needed for a dinner, around a gold-trimmed plate with a fancy folded
napkin adorned with holly. I take a seat next to Asher, with Danielle on the other side of me, and Asher’s dad directly across.
He gives me a wink as he sits down and I look away immediately.
A man stands at the end of the table, looking almost identical to Asher’s dad but shorter and thinner. I recognize him from
Wesley’s photos: It’s his dad.
“It’s so great that we could have almost all of our family here this weekend, along with some new friends. And what better
time than the fiftieth-anniversary week of the resort being open. It warms my heart that in just a few short months it’ll
be in the hands of my son and the legacy will continue—”
“And Asher’s,” Ben interrupts.
Wesley’s dad cuts a look to Ben, his brother. “Well, I mean, if Wes decides to take him on as an employee, then I guess so, but seeing as I’ve managed to handle it on my own, I don’t see any reason—”
“It is a family business, John.” Ben stops him again. “Let’s not be so quick to cut out family.”
“Dad,” Asher says, shaking his head.
“Don’t interrupt me.”
“You just interrupted Uncle John twice,” he says back, and I kick him under the table as the room grows quiet. Everyone sips
their drinks with their eyes down, trying to wish away the tension.
“So you’re taking his side?” Ben asks Asher.
John clears his throat. “There are no sides, Ben. Let’s just enjoy this dinner, shall we? Wes, do you want to add anything?”
Asher looks at Wes now. “Yes, Wesley, is there anything you want to add? About the business, or just your plans for after
college?”
Wes stands and clears his throat. “Yes, actually there is.”
I suck in a breath. Is he really going to do this now? Asher is practically on the edge of his seat.
Wes raises his glass of wine. “I am . . .” He looks around the room and stops when he sees his father’s proud face. “I am
excited for what the future holds. Cheers! To family,” he says. The rest of the table raises their now almost empty glasses.
I glance over at Asher, who remains unmoving; he does not raise a glass, he does not say cheers. Servers come around with
soup and salads and idle chatter continues on both sides of the table.
“Asher, see me in the study after dinner,” his father says as he swirls around one of the large gold rings on his fingers. His tone reminds me of a teacher asking a student to stay after class. And not in a good way. More like a you just failed a test kind of way.
Asher just sighs. A few seats down I watch Wesley’s mom look like she might say something but then decide not to. I look down
the table to see Annica looking at me with eyes that say See? Told you.
The main course of ham, potatoes, and a vegetable medley is served while Jake and Charlie regale the table with a long tale
about how they lost Wes on last year’s spring break trip to Cancún, which I did not attend because I couldn’t afford it, but
the story sounds very similar to The Hangover. Wes buries his red face in his hands as everyone chuckles, his own grandpa nearly choking on his food for how hard he laughs.
When it’s quiet again, Wesley’s brother-in-law brings up the one thing I was hoping wouldn’t come up.
“So what’s going on at your school and that kid that was stabbed? Did they catch the guy who did it?”
I choke on my wine and begin to cough. Dani pats my back.
“No, not yet,” Wes answers. “I don’t know if they ever will either. They can’t even nail down who was all there.”
Sam shoots Asher and me a pointed look.
“What a shame,” his mother says.
“Yeah, Marissa is pretty close to the case because she’s in that club, and she said they have like no leads,” Wes says.
No leads still? Somehow that brings me relief.
“Speaking of Marissa,” Marceline says. “Where is she? I was hoping to witness a proposal this weekend.”
Now it’s Wesley’s turn to nearly choke on his drink. A proposal? Was Wes planning on proposing? Our friend group is silent, staring at him anxiously, awaiting an answer.
“Proposal?” Wes says, eyes wide. “That’s . . . I haven’t even—”
“That’s way down the line,” his father finishes for him. “He has more important things to focus on right now, Marceline.”
“Well, that’s not what you told me when I was about to graduate.” She cocks her head to the side.
John looks flustered now. “It’s different for you,” he says.
“Why?” she shoots back.
“Who wants dessert?” Wesley’s mom stands before John can answer.
Dessert is salted caramel gelato with a side of Jake begging Asher to play “Bohemian Rhapsody” on the piano for him and Charlie
to sing to. I almost don’t think he will, but Asher gets up followed by all the boys now as they gather around and drunkenly
belt out the entire Queen song, the whole room laughing even harder than they were at the story.
Annica, Dani, and I cheer them on, which leads to the boys taking requests. Asher can play anything they throw at him. It’s
incredible to watch, really, and unfortunately very attractive to see him get lost in the music. Occasionally he’ll glance
up at me and smirk, and I have to look away to keep from blushing.