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After what had been a great night of dancing wildly, non-stop, we fell into the cab, giggling. I’d drank a bit too much champagne.
Savvie directed the driver to Mayfair, where I’d been invited to stay.
“Jacinta’s wild,” I said.
“She always has been. She’s marrying soon.”
“That’s Alain?”
“Uh-huh. What do you think of him?” she asked as the taxi drove through London and over the bridge, crawling along, bumper to bumper.
“He seems nice. A little geekish.”
Savvie laughed. “You got that right. Boring fuck, I believe. But he’s loaded.”
“She’s marrying him for his money, then?” That surprised me. I thought Jacinta had her own money, going on her designer outfits, posh accent, and general vibe.
“Yep. Knowing Cin, she’ll probably have a few playthings on the side.”
I turned to read how she felt about that.
“You think that’s okay?” I asked, recalling Crisp offering that cavalier servente option, which I’d soon discovered was something the Italians had done hundreds of years ago. Old, wealthy husbands allowing their young wives a young lover, which I thought was rather reasonable. Beat cheating and being caught and guilted out. That wouldn’t be me. Through my mother’s endless parade of lovers, I’d seen enough cheating to last me a lifetime.
“I don’t know. Each to their own. I wouldn’t do it myself. Too complicated.”
“But you wouldn’t need to marry for money, would you?”
“No. But I’d marry Carson even if I were fucking destitute.”
“But that’s easy to say, given you’ve never been destitute.”
She turned and studied me. I’d hit a button of sorts. “Have you?”
I nodded. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“But wasn’t Bethany hooking up with rich guys?” She frowned.
“That didn’t mean she looked after me.”
Her face crumpled in shock. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Hey, it’s cool. I’m good now. I don’t like to think about those times.”
“Is that why you cut yourself?”
Having pushed that drama at the Mariner away from my memory, I squirmed. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
We’d arrived at the house just in time, because I really didn’t want to talk about my past.
An elderly butler let us in, and we headed into the living room, where I expected Mary Poppins to ride down the staircase and land before me with her bird umbrella making eyes at me. The house, especially the living room, with its antique vases, statues, and lamps, reminded me of that movie.
Savvie made us a drink and ripped open a bag of crisps, and we made ourselves comfortable in the bright-blue living room.
“Sorry to bring that up earlier.”
“It’s fine. I’m in a bit of bother, though.” I bit my cheek.
“What’s up?”
