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“What an awful surprise.”
Lainey winces, but no one says a word. My father shoots me an aggressively disapproving glare. Maman is too self-absorbed to register what I’ve said.
“Emmett! My precious boy!”
She leaps up from her seat in a great show of motherly affection, rounding the table with her arms stretched wide. I get engulfed in a hug I don’t want, squeezed tightly by a mother I hardly consider family at all. She’s had work done since I last saw her. When she pulls back to look at me, I notice her nose is thinner, slightly out of proportion with the rest of her face. Her eyebrows are arched unnaturally high, and her lips and cheeks are overly filled. She’s still beautiful, but it’s hard to discern beneath all the fakery.
She attempts to shake me, but she doesn’t have the strength. “You naughty boy. I had no idea you’re engaged!”
“I’m not,” I reply flatly.
“Emmett.” My father’s warning slices through the air.
Alexander laughs.
Ignacio laughs too, confused about what’s going on.
Fay Davenport looks like she’d like to chop off my head, and Lainey does absolutely nothing. It’s like I’m not even here.
The only free seat at the table is beside her. I can’t stand the idea of them orchestrating the seating arrangement before my arrival as if all we need is a meal together to fall madly in love, thus resolving this entire issue.
A server hurries over to pull out the chair, but I wave him off and do it myself. It screeches ominously, and I don’t miss Lainey’s flinch.
So she is aware of me.
It’s fitting considering I’m despicably, annoyingly, desperately aware of her. She’s wearing a tight long-sleeved red velvet dress that hugs her figure. The deep V-neckline showcases a diamond choker, but her ring finger is still bare. Odd considering the ruby I gifted her would have gone perfectly with her outfit.
“Where’s your ring?” I ask once I take my seat.
She curls her left hand into a small fist then tucks it into her lap. “I’m having it resized.”
“What a shame. I’m sure it pains you not to have it on your finger to show proof of ownership.”
“Charming.”
She turns her body slightly away from me, a subtle way of telling me to fuck off, I think.
I almost smile.
“I wasn’t aware you would be here tonight. I hope you aren’t expecting a gift.”
“No need to worry,” Alexander says, interrupting our private conversation. “I brought you a little something, Lainey.”
She perks up and peers over at my brother with a curious smile.
Vines of annoyance grow up and around my neck, tightening my throat.
“What a friendly gesture, brother. When did you find the time? Are we not giving you enough to do at GHV?”
Alexander only laughs, enjoying this all a bit too much.
He retrieves three Cartier gift boxes from a bag that must have been resting at his feet. “I was going to save these until after dinner, but why wait?”
He distributes them to Maman, Fay, and Lainey. They thank him and tell him it wasn’t necessary then open them in tandem to reveal matching emerald and diamond tennis bracelets.
Lainey’s cheeks color pink with delight as she lifts it up out of the box and admires it in the warm light of the chandeliers.
“It’s stunning, Alexander. Truly. You shouldn’t have.”
Down at the other end of the table, Maman squeals with glee and immediately begs Ignacio to help her put on her bracelet.
Even Fay gives Alexander an approving smile.
Lainey leans over the table toward him, her voice low as she reveals, “I’ve never been gifted jewelry before…well, not from anyone but my grandmother.”
Her voice sounds annoyingly intimate. It’s like I’m not even sitting here.
“I gave you a ring,” I remind her, unamused.
She doesn’t even deign to look at me as she quips, “That wasn’t a gift so much as a bloody horse head.”
Alexander’s howling laugh draws the attention of the entire table just before a suite of servers walk into the room, each one halting in place behind a chair before serving from the left and presenting us with our first course in unison.
It’s crostini slathered with goat cheese, pomegranate arils, and rosemary, and we all eat while playing at polite conversation.
Fay and my father seem adept at carrying on as if they’re old friends. Ignacio and Alexander bond over discussion of the current F1 standings. My mother checks her reflection in a compact mirror, touching up her lipstick after taking precisely one bite of the appetizer and then pushing it aside to keep herself from indulging in any more.
Lainey and I seem to be on our own little island, pretending the other doesn’t exist as we tuck into our appetizer and sip our wine. Of course that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m overly aware of her. I find I can’t keep my gaze off her. The details I took for granted before these weeks we’ve been apart—the delicate curve of her wrist, the careful way she smooths a finger down the spine of her wine glass, every bite she takes—seems more interesting than anything else in the room.
