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Aria wrenched her arm from his. “Cultural sensitivity? Noel, Klaudia showing up naked at the hot tub isn’t a cultural thing—it’s a slutty thing!”
Noel’s mouth dropped open. He closed his eyes and shook his head like he didn’t believe her. Like he thought she was just being a jealous bitch.
The elevator doors started to slide closed again, but Aria thrust her foot between them and caught them. “Klaudia wants you, Noel,” she said icily. “And if you weren’t so smitten with her, you’d notice she’s being really obvious about it, too.”
She stepped inside the elevator doors and pressed down hard on the CLOSE button. Part of her hoped Noel would step inside and ride up with her, but he just stood in the vestibule, blinking at her, his face full of disappointment. With a whoosh, the doors closed, and in moments the car swept Aria up to her floor. Where Noel went after that, she didn’t know.
And she tried to fool herself into believing she didn’t care.
Chapter 25
One big happy family
At 8 P.M. sharp, Spencer, Zach, and Amelia passed under the green-and-white awning of Smith and Wollensky, the upscale steakhouse on Third Avenue, and swished through the brass-handled double doors.
The bar area was six people deep, and everyone was shouting. Businessmen sat at giant oak tables eating rib eyes and juicy burgers the size of their heads. Trophy wives sipped martinis and winked flirtatiously at the white-coated Irish guys pouring goblet-sized glasses of wine behind the bar. The air smelled like testosterone and meat.
“Leave it to my dad to pick somewhere über-masculine,” Zach mused in Spencer’s ear as a hostess guided them around the crowded dining room to where their parents were waiting. “Do you really think your mom finds this place romantic?”
Spencer doubted it, but she pinched his arm. “Now, now. We need to be on our best behavior, remember?”
Zach raised a brow. “Actually, I propose we be on our worst behavior.”
“Oh? What are you thinking?”
“Drinking game.” Zach’s eyes sparkled. He reached into his bag and showed Spencer the very tip of a stainless steel flask. “It’s filled with Absolut Kurant.”
“Naughty boy!” Spencer whispered. “I’m in. Here’s my rule: Every time my mom fusses over your dad, we take a drink.”
“Deal. And every time my dad acts like a big shot, we drink.”
Spencer snorted. “We’ll be loaded before the food arrives.”
Zach raised his eyebrow. “Isn’t that the idea?”
Tingles shot up Spencer’s back. After their provocative moment in the dressing room, Zach had been even more touchy-feely than ever, brushing his hand up against Spencer’s waist and giving her unprompted hand-squeezes whenever Amelia emerged in a particularly fabulous outfit. When they’d passed Cartier on the walk down to Saks, he’d even grabbed Spencer’s hand and asked if she wanted to go inside—he’d buy her something. “Only if it’s a platinum love ring,” she teased. That had made Amelia give them both a sickened look and walk several paces ahead of them for the rest of the afternoon.
Mrs. Hastings waved at the three of them as they approached the table. Mr. Pennythistle sat on her right. Both were dressed in opera regalia, Mr. Pennythistle in a tuxedo, and Spencer’s mother in a beaded gown that clung snugly to her thin frame. An opened bottle of red wine already sat on the table, along with a platter of fried calamari. As they sat down, Mrs. Hastings made up a plate for Mr. Pennythistle. “I know you hate the ones with the tentacles,” she said in a motherly voice as she placed it in front of him.
“Thank you, dear,” Mr. Pennythistle said, picking up his knife and fork.
Spencer and Zach exchanged a glance, nearly bursting out laughing over the word tentacles. Zach covertly reached for his flask and poured some into his and Spencer’s glasses of sparkling water. They both took a big sip.
“So what did you kids do today?” Mrs. Hastings dipped a piece of calamari into the bowl of marinara sauce.
“Oh, we did the New York tourist thing,” Spencer said. “Saks, Bendel’s, Barneys. Amelia got a lot of great clothes.”
“Oh, those stores are lovely,” Mrs. Hastings sighed wistfully.
Mr. Pennythistle’s forehead wrinkled. “You didn’t go to any museums? You didn’t visit the stock exchange?”
Amelia clamped her mouth shut. Zach wilted in his seat. Mr. Pennythistle shoved a calamari into his mouth with gusto. “What about the tour of Carnegie Hall I arranged for you, Amelia? I had to pull major strings to get that.”
“I’ll go tomorrow, Daddy,” Amelia piped up quickly. Suck-up.
“Good.” Mr. Pennythistle nodded, then glanced at Zach. “And are you telling me you didn’t meet with Douglas?”
Spencer glanced at Zach—she’d forgotten about his meeting with the Harvard admissions guy. Zach shrugged. “I didn’t feel like it.”
Mr. Pennythistle blinked hard. “But he was waiting for your call.” He pulled out his BlackBerry. “I’ll see if he can meet with you tomorrow morning . . .”
It looked like Zach was going to explode. “You know, not all of us want to go to Harvard, Dad.”
Mr. Pennythistle’s mouth dropped open slightly. “But . . . you’ll love it at Harvard, Zachary. Some of my best memories are from my time there.”
“It is a lovely school,” Mrs. Hastings chimed in. Mr. Pennythistle squeezed her hand gratefully.
But Zach folded his hands on top of the table, unblinking. “I’m not you, Dad. Maybe I want other things.”
