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“Well, thank gawd they dropped the big bucks on a celebrity chef,” I deadpanned. “I hate it when total unknowns fondle my crab cakes.”
Wes grinned at me over the top of Millie’s head, as the little girl swung her legs and sipped contentedly at her juice. Beau joined us a few moments later and said, “I hate to break up the party, but Millie’s dinner is ready.”
The little girl asked, “Can I dance some more after dinner?”
“I’m afraid it’s going to be close to bedtime after that,” her father told her, “so you should go ahead and say good night to Uncle Wesley and his boyfriend.”
Millie pouted as she hugged both of us and mumbled good night, and we promised we’d see her in the morning. “If your dad says it’s okay, maybe we can go out in a boat and look for sea turtles tomorrow,” Wes said, which made the child bounce excitedly.
“That sounds like fun.” Beau picked up the little girl and added, “Thanks, both of you, for keeping Millie company today. I know it meant a lot to her.”
“It meant a lot to us, too,” I said. “She’s an amazing kid, and you’re very lucky.” Beau gave me a genuine smile and a nod before heading toward the house with his daughter.
Wes slid closer and put his arm around my shoulders as he said, “He likes you, and Beau’s a pretty tough nut to crack.” I snorted at that, and Wes asked, “What?”
“That expression. You sound like a grandpa sometimes.” Wes grinned and rolled his eyes, and I said, “Question. If Beau’s filthy rich, how’d he end up named after one of the Dukes of Hazzard?”
“It’s B-E-A-U, not B-O, and it’s short for Beauregard Standish Fitzwater the third, of the New York Fitzwaters.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He chuckled, and I asked, “So, what’s your dog show name? I want to hear the whole thing in rich people format.”
“What’s a dog show name?”
“You know. Every time I accidentally start watching one of those things on TV, they’re always like, ‘The poodle’s name is His Royal Highness Starlord von Cracker Barrel Winter Fresh Shady Bottom, but we call him Flapjack.’ It’s hilarious.”
“Mine’s not quite as good as Flapjack’s. I’m Wesley Alden Sprague Bennett, of the Connecticut Bennetts.”
I nodded. “About what I figured.”
“It was important to our parents to include both illustrious branches of our family tree, and each of my siblings and I got a middle name in honor of one of our grandparents.”
“To honor them,” I asked, “or to curry favor in the hopes of a fatter inheritance?”
“I assume it’s the latter.”
I put my head on his shoulder. “Thought so.”
“So, what’s your dog show name?”
“Sadly, I’m not pedigreed like you, so all I got was Ashley Dwight Landry, of the Bunkie, Louisiana Landrys.”
“Bunkie, huh?”
“It’s as good as it sounds.”
“And Dwight, as in Dwight D. Eisenhower?”
“As in Yoakam.”
He nodded. “Ah.”
“You don’t know who that is, do you?”
“No idea.”
“Thought so.” After a few moments, I asked, “Are you going to get yelled at for failing to mingle?”
“Probably, but I don’t care.”
I took his hand in both of mine and absently traced a circle on the back of it as we watched the well-heeled crowd. After a while, I gestured toward the dance floor and asked, “So, what made a hardcore introvert decide to get up in front of a big group of people and bust some moves?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No, not really.”
He rested the side of his head against mine and said softly, “I was trying to impress you, Ash. I know I’m not the most interesting guy out there. I’ve always known that. But I wanted to show you I’m trying to be more fun and outgoing.”
I sat up and cupped his face between my hands. “I want you to listen closely, because this is important. You’re enough, Wes, just the way you are. That’s the god’s-honest truth, and fuck anyone who ever tried to tell you something different.”
He leaned in and kissed me, and then he grinned and said, “Thanks for saying that. But I still hope I impressed you.”
I grinned too and put my head on his shoulder. “You absolutely did.”
We continued our hushed conversation for a few more minutes, until we saw the guests shifting to the dining tables. Wes sighed and got to his feet. “Showtime. Do I look alright?”
I got up, too. “You look perfect. Just so you know, if it turns out Eloise stuck me at the children’s table or some shit, I’m planning to bail on dinner.”
“If she does something like that, come and tell me and I’ll take care of it.”
“No, it’s okay. I know you have other things to worry about over dinner. I’m just telling you so you know where to find me. Once you’re finished, meet me at the boathouse. It’s way off by itself, and I’m guessing it’ll be pretty empty tonight. This doesn’t strike me as a late night jet-skiing crowd.”
