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"Thank you," Mr. Chesterville says. "We feel the same way.”
“Wonderful." Dad then looks at Matthew and his family and raises his
glass higher. "I hope we can go in the same direction with the Bouchards."
"We do, too," Mr. Bouchard replies.
As I’m wishing for the opposite, I keep still, showing no emotion.
“It will be great for us all to use tonight to get to know each other.” Dad looks at me, but as I’m so far away, I pretend I don’t see him.
He wants me to do my best with Matthew, but I know I can't. Matthew is already getting on my nerves for the way he’s looking at me, and he hasn’t even spoken to me yet.
"Enjoy the meal, everyone. We have a wonderful night planned."
We start eating, and the conversation around the table floats from sports to holiday destination to current affairs.
Apart from Maria, Dad’s assistant, no one speaks to me.
An hour goes by, and I glance at the clock, wondering if I could still go to the club.
It's only eight. We’re just finishing up dessert, so this would be the perfect time to leave, but still we're sitting at the table. I wouldn’t be able to excuse myself and leave.
Another hour goes by, and when everyone is finished, Dad encourages us to go outside onto the terrace, which has been beautifully decorated with tables and chairs draped in white cloth and floral centerpieces.
I move to the water fountain because it’s near the garden gates. If I can slip away, that’s the route I’ll take.
Just as I’m about to sit, Matthew approaches to speak to me.
"Hi." Although he gives me a polite smile, he still looks me over with scrutiny.
"Hey." I smile back.
"So, our parents have arranged thisthingfor us. How are you feeling about it?"
I’m not sure how to answer that question while still sounding polite, so I try for something neutral. “I’m sure we’ll see what happens.”
“I agree. Although this didn’t really come as a surprise to me.”
"Really?" It was news to me.
"No, when you think of it, families like ours are always trying to secure the line of power and prestige." He nods as if his explanation is perfectly understandable.
I nod, deciding to humor him. "I suppose so."
"I heard you went to UCLA to studyart."
I don't like the way he says that, as if art is a non- subject. "Yeah. I loved it. I'm currently working on the set of a live art show."
"I heard that, too.” And from his tone, I can tell he's not entirely happy with my chosen line of work. "I went to Harvard. I'm a lawyer, but I’m sure you already knew that.”
"Yes. I did.”
"I'm exceptional at what I do.” He takes in a breath, like he’s pausing for effect. “I expect to be a senior partner at one of the top firms in Boston in the next two years."
I'm beginning to see exactly what Harper found taking fruition.
"That would be great."
