Page 124 of Gold Rush

Lili’s rehearsal dinner is being held at her parents’ Hamptons home. I haven’t been here since the night I called the cops on Flynn. And I’ve never before spent time in the Hamptons after Labor Day, the traditional end to the summer season.

I’m nervous about this weekend. Not the normal maid-of-honor nerves, trying to ensure every detail is perfect, which is my automatic tendency anyway. My anxiety is the same source of my current amusement. Flynn is making faces at Dylan, who’s giggling, entirely enthralled by his dad’s best friend.

So am I.

“Did you tell him yet?”

“Jeez, Wren.” I tighten my grip on the thin stem of the champagne flute, spinning to face my sister.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll take that as a no.”

I lower my voice. “Can we not discuss this here?”

Wren’s sigh is exaggerated. “We’re doing family photos down by the water in fifteen minutes. Mom wanted me to tell you. Have you seen Bash? I can’t find him.”

“He was talking to Blythe in the dining room, last I saw.”

“By the hot Brit, of course.” Wren throws her hands up in the air. “Where I should have looked first.” She strides off.

I glance back toward the pool. Flynn is gone, along with the other guys he was standing with. Collins and Kit are still sitting under the umbrella covering one of the patio tables. Collins is feeding Dylan chunks of melon while Kit beams at them like they’re the most fascinating sight in the world. There’s so much visible love emanating from the domestic scene that it feels like I’m staring straight at the sun. Blinded by bright and light.

I still want that.

The happy, predictable ending. I want a big wedding with everyone I know and everyone my family knows in attendance. I think it’s the one day I would appreciate being the center of attention. I would have someone beside me, someone to share it with, and that’s never happened with any of my past achievements. And maybe it’s strange to think of marriage as something you accomplish, but it’s not something that comes easily either. Not the kind of partnership I want at least.

“Perfect weather, huh?” Mallory sidles up beside me, surveying the pool and the yard. Both are blanketed with gold as the sun sinks over the water. “Lili gambled with an outdoor wedding in the fall. Looks like it paid off.”

“It does,” I agree.

“Fran showed me her dress for tomorrow. They’re gorgeous.”

I nod. “Scarlett designed them.”

Something Mallory’s sister likely mentioned to her, too, but I’m unsure what else to say. I’ve never been able to tell if Mallory likes me or not. I’ll always associate her with the awful morning I learned about Carson’s cheating. I hope she showed me that video to ensure I wasn’t blindsided in addition to wanting to see my reaction for gossip purposes.

Mallory glances around the patio. “Is Flynn here?”

Another strike against me among my peers, aside from my tendency to follow rules, which is rarely considered a desirable trait to associate with. The girls I grew up with all think I’m dating the guy they want.

“Somewhere,” I answer.

“He’s so popular.” Mallory laughs, tapping a manicured fingertip against the side of the glass. “Must be hard to keep track of him.”

“I’m not trying to keep track of him.” I don’t mean for the edge in my voice to exist, yet it sneaks in anyway.

I’m aware it’s incredibly ironic that I’m annoyed by the incessant interest and assumptions related to my relationship with Flynn when that was the entire point of this arrangement, and that awareness does absolutely nothing to diminish my annoyance.

“Good for you.” She smiles, but it has a hint of fake. Of condescension.

Mallory is waiting for Flynn to get bored with me, and she’s not the only one.

“Refill?”

A fresh glass appears in front of me, topped with a wedge of lime. Flynn takes the flute of champagne I’ve barely drunk from, handing it off to a passing waiter.

I swallow a sip of my new drink. Sparkling water. “You trying to keep me sober?”

“Cops might show up otherwise.” Flynn winks, causing a swooping sensation in my stomach. “Hey, Mallory. How are you?”