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I balked. “No.”
It was a weak response. Far too defensive.
“Really?” Adam pressed. “So you wanted to come to a polo match and listen to people making fun of you behind your back?”
I opened my mouth to say that was not why I had come. That I was genuinely curious about English society and always had been. That I’d wanted to support the man I loved.
But our fight this morning kept flashing in my mind’s eye.
“That was amazing back there,” I said instead, doing my best to change the subject. “With those women. I’m still trying to figure out how to put that type in their place.”
“It’s easy,” Adam said. “You just have to answer their snobby questions like they are real ones.”
“Well, thank you for standing up for me. I just—it’s so odd, having all these people know my name, assuming so much about me. It seems like it’s been that way all summer.”
I pressed a toe into the silky green grass, finding myself longing for concrete. For the first time since coming here, I yearned for New York. I missed the dirty sidewalks and the thronged subways. All the places I could sink into a crowd and not be noticed.
I missed being a nobody.
“We Yanks have to stick together,” Adam joked. “Besides, it’s true. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Any man would be lucky to have you. Even if he doesn’t know it.”
“That’s very kind.”
“So, does he at least know that?”
I didn’t answer, hoping Adam would let it go. But when I looked up from my now-finished cocktail to find him watching and waiting for my answer, I just sighed.
“It’s…complicated,” I admitted.
“Maybe because you know the truth?”
I smarted. I could talk about my relationship, but why should anyone else. “Oh, and what would that be?”
Adam tipped his head, then gently took my empty glass, and handed it to a passing waiter before continuing. “Look, I’ve known Xavier Parker for a really long time. Maybe we’ve never been close—”
“You acted like you barely knew each other last spring,” I pointed out.
“But I’ve still known him,” Adam continued like I hadn’t said a word. “The guy I went to high school with didn’t think about anyone but himself. And from where I stand, not much has changed.”
I didn’t reply. Given Xavier’s and my argument earlier, I was having a hard time arguing with his points. But that didn’t mean I wanted to hear them.
“The guy was selfish, rude, and frankly an asshole,” Adam said emphatically before tossing back the rest of his drink as if to punctuate his sentence.
“He was damaged,” I said. “Show me a sixteen-year-old boy who just lost his mother, was yanked from his home, and shoved into a stuffy boarding school who wouldn’t be kind of an asshole.”
Adam just shrugged. “And has he changed? Can you honestly say he thinks of you and Sofia before he thinks of himself?”
Lord, it was like talking to one of my sisters. Except this guy didn’t really know Xavier. And as friendly as he was earlier, he didn’t know me either.
“What are you doing right now?” I snapped, maybe a bit more than was strictly necessary. “Honestly? What is the point of this whole conversation?”
At first, Adam tried to adopt that calm, placid expression I was starting to recognize as his “Butter up Frankie” face. But when he glanced at me, something seemed to tell him it wasn’t going to work. The mask fell, and his brown eyes met mine straight on.
“All right, you want truth?” he said frankly. “Here’s some truth. That guy out there doesn’t give a crap about you or your daughter.”
“And you do?” I set my hands on my hips. “We work a few classrooms down from each other. We went on one date. You don’t know a thing about any of us.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “I know more than you think. For instance, I know he should have stood up for you in front of those two peacocks in there, not me. Just like I know he should have escorted you around the Ortham Ball, introducing you to the people in this world instead of letting you manage it on your own and drink too much.”
