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“We’ve got eight people in there instead of four,” Connie says. “Barbara and Matthew Kendrick, Isaac and Noah’s parents and former owners of the Elizabeth. Raylan Kendrick, their nephew from Matthew’s side. Sophie Anthony, from Barbara’s side. And the two potential matches, a certain Tori Ashton and a particularly annoying Alexandra Fenwick, both New York elite from what I overheard at the reception desk when they first came in.”
“It’s a good thing I’ve got you to help me out on who’s who at these tables, huh?” I chuckle nervously, though I can tell it’s not my laughter at all. I’m queasy. I’d like nothing more than to weasel out of this breakfast thing, but it’s my job. “Okay, duly noted on the guests. Is there anything else I need to be wary of?”
“Mr. Kendrick has a nut allergy, so we have to be careful with who gets which plate,” Connie says. “The kitchen has labeled everything that’s safe for him, though.”
I glance down at the service carts and see the labels on the bottles and bowls. It’s a feast for kings, not just a breakfast. I could feed myself and my kids for a whole week with the amount of food we’re about to take into the tearoom.
A stark reminder of who I am and where I belong, whether I like it or not.
“Come on, let’s go, then,” I say, determined to get this whole thing over with sooner rather than later.
Yet once I enter the tearoom, I instantly regret my decision.
Noah and Isaac glance my way and smile softly. They nod politely, as well, but I can tell they’re strained and looking rather awkward in their seats at the table. The two young women sit between them, both pretty and prissy enough to have fallen out of a Hamptons fashion catalog. Both platinum blondes with bold blue eyes and a soft tan, leftover from the summer. Both wearing white or delicate, earthy tones in slim layers of fine silk, cashmere, and smooth denim. Likely Harvard or Yale girls. Former class presidents.
A charming and charismatic politician needs the kind of wife that looks good by his side but doesn’t eclipse him in any way. She needs to be pretty and effortless in her perfect appearance.
I think I’m going to be sick.
“Good morning,” Connie greets the room with a neutral tone of voice.
“And, as I was saying,” Raylan says to Sophie and the Ivy League chicks, “stock prices are going to go down fast if Pacific North-Shore buys up the entirety Sofitel chains. There’s plenty of speculation on the matter, and my broker has been ringing the alarm for days now.”
Isaac shrugs, constantly stealing glances at me as I start moving items from my cart to the center of the massive oak table. “I don’t really care. I’ve already covered my investments on that end.”
“You sold early, didn’t you?” Raylan narrows his beady eyes at his cousin.
“I have a better broker, what can I say?” Isaac chuckles dryly.
Noah pours himself a cup of coffee and mutters a subtle “Thank you,” when I leave an extra milk jug next to the carafe.
“You’re welcome,” I whisper.
This whole breakfast routine is a good opportunity to observe the twins’ family. I do so with a bitter taste in my mouth, however. Barbara and Matthew are a handsome couple, silver-haired foxes with bright eyes and deep lines of age and wisdom. They’re neat and coiffured to perfection, careful with each gesture as they load their plates with some of the food Connie and I are currently adding to the table.
“We were hoping the four of you might enjoy a walk down to the winter fair later. I hear it’ll stay open until mid-January this time because of tourist activity. Our shoreline has become quite popular lately,” Barbara says, her inquisitive gaze focused strictly on Noah, Isaac, and the two ladies. “Your father and I will keep Raylan and Sophie busy in the meantime. Your cousins are interested in a venue by the pier, so we’ll take them there.”
“That sounds nice,” Isaac sighs, though he doesn’t sound very enthusiastic.
“What venue? The Calypso?” Noah asks. “It’s for sale. Isaac and I were eyeing it ourselves.”
“I’m not going to step in on your turf, Cuz. If you want to buy it, by all means, Sophie and I can find something else,” Raylan offers.
Noah shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. If you like it, please go ahead. There are plenty of other hospitality properties for us to focus on. Besides, we’re not really rushing into any new acquisitions these days.”
As the conversation drones on, I realize Barbara is determined to see both her sons married in the next two years, tops. Isaac will certainly follow in his father’s footsteps. Matthew is in the middle of a second term as a Senator representing Maine in the US Congress. Before that, he worked his way up through the political system shortly after he married Barbara. Before that, he ran the Elizabeth and a few other businesses, which he later passed on to his sons.
There is a natural order in this place, and I am not a part of it. I can tell from how simply invisible I am, waiting on their table and clearing their plates and refilling their drinks. The Ivy League princesses don’t even look at me. They can’t even acknowledge my existence. Raylan leers at me off and on—he’d absolutely try pinching my ass if he weren’t sitting so close to Isaac and Noah’s mother. Barbara is polite but quick to dismiss me, while Matthew focuses more on his sons, having little to no attention left for the service staff with the exception of an occasional, perfunctory smile.
Noah and Isaac are kind and often watching me, while I grow increasingly nervous and worried I might mess something up. Connie buzzes around like a busy little bee, constantly smiling and adding food to the table, while I handle the clearance and the drinks. We’ve got a nice system going, but my stomach is starting to bother me to the point where a persistent burn lingers in my throat.
“All I’m saying, Isaac, is that you are more than ready for a relationship and eventual marriage,” Barbara reiterates at the end of a long-winded conversation about why it’s better to go into politics with a ring on your finger and no reason to have the tabloids following you around on a night out with the boys. “It’ll open all kinds of doors for you.”
“My father has invited us to a card game in Southampton Aspen next weekend,” Tori replies, giving Isaac a warm smile. “I’d love it if I could tell him you’ll be joining me.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule, but it shouldn’t be a problem,” he says.
Noah catches my gaze. Almost at the same time, Alexandra leans in to whisper something in his ear, prompting him to laugh lightly. It makes me sick as I turn away and try to keep my attention on the task at hand. It’s getting harder to stay upright at this point, though. Connie is starting to notice.
