“Only because of my mother and his father,” I say.
The headlines scream of history repeating itself. It’s downright embarrassing. To avoid photographers, Monty chose a small café not too far from his place, and I showed up with a wide-brimmed hat on my head and giant sunglasses covering most of my face. It worked too. No one is paying us any attention, and it helps we met during such a random time. The lunch crowd is long gone.
“Right? So scandalous. I love it. I’m sure it makes Sylvia scream into a pillow at least three times a day.” Monty throws his head back and laughs.
“She’ll get over it,” I say with a pleasant smile, though really, I’m not so sure. She’s so angry with me. With us. Whit didn’t fall in line, and I know she’s disappointed.
Doesn’t help that she hates me and my mother.
He sobers immediately. “I’ve spoken to Sylvie recently.”
“You have?” My heart pangs at just hearing her name. I still miss her. Despite everything that happened between us, she was my only friend at Lancaster, and there’s a void inside of me that she used to fill. We said such cruel things to each other the last time we spoke, and I hate that. All of those outside influences conspiring against us.
“Yes. She’s doing wonderfully. Soaking up the sun, clearing her head. Finding herself, she said. Poor little lost rich girl in search of the meaning of life,” he explains.
“I know the feeling, though I wouldn’t call myself rich,” I say, my tone wistful. I miss Paris, where I found myself, but I’m grateful for my life here too. With Whit. I didn’t realize how much I needed him until I saw him again. And now we live together. He wants to marry me.
I keep refusing him. It makes him so angry. I tell him to channel all of that energy into our sex life and he does exactly that.
It certainly makes for some interesting experiences together.
“You’re rich now,” Monty says with a grin.
“I don’t care about his money.”
“Half the appeal of Whit Lancaster is his money. I’d roll around naked in one hundred-dollar bills with that man if he’d let me.” Monty fans himself.
I laugh, knowing he’s full of it. He just likes to say those sorts of things. He’s not interested in Whit, though he does respect him as a friend. He did so much for him. Finding me. Arranging for us to see each other after being apart for so long.
His seeming betrayal still stings a little, but I can see now that he did it for the both of us. We were hurting without each other. Monty was just trying to help.
“Do you think you’ll ever forgive Sylvie?” Monty asks, pulling me from my thoughts. “She might end up being your sister-in-law someday, you know.”
I don’t like thinking about marrying Whit. Not yet. We’re still so young, and a marriage is meaningless if you’re not ready for it. I just want to be with him. Learn more about him. Grow with him.
That’s enough for me. For now.
“I’m sure I will forgive her eventually. After all, I’ve forgiven you,” I tell him, making him smile.
He rests his hand against his chest, and I examine him closely. He looks tan and fit. Got rid of his eclectic wardrobe and is clad in a simple black T-shirt and very expensive looking jeans. He even looks like he might’ve lost a little weight. He did complain to me in the past that college life left him pale and pudgy since he sat on a computer all day. “You have? Really?”
I nod. “Of course. You’re one of my only friends. Same with Sylvie. I just hope she can forgive me as well.”
There is still much work to be done between Sylvie and I. And even with Whit and I. None of us are perfect.
But we’re doing the best that we can.
Monty and I chat and eat, sipping on fizzy cocktails, and I listen to Monty’s gossipy stories, which are fascinating. He knows so many people, and somehow knows plenty of their secrets too.
Makes me extra glad he doesn’t know mine.
By the time our server has taken away our empty plates, Monty’s phone won’t stop buzzing, and he discreetly checks it, pushing the phone away each time.
“Who is it?” I ask curiously.
“No one.” He grimaces. “A boy.”
“Someone special?”
“Someone with a big dick and a bigger ego.” Monty rolls his eyes. “I pick the worst sort of men.”
“I happen to like big dicks and big egos,” I say with a laugh.
“You would, considering who you’re with.”
“He might not be so bad,” I tease, waving my fingers at his phone. “Answer him.”
“He wants to meet me for drinks,” Monty says.
“You should,” I urge.
“Right now.” He sends me a look. “I don’t want to just bail on you to go hang out with my boo. That’s rude.”
“Oh, he’s your boo now?” I raise a brow, sipping the last of my drink.
“I’m just calling him that. I don’t know what he is,” Monty says dismissively.
“You should go,” I say, my voice soft. “Have fun tonight. See where your boo might take you.”
“You won’t be mad?” He sounds truly worried.
“No.” I shake my head. “I can’t ever stay mad at you for long.”
We pay for our meal and exit the restaurant, hugging each other for a long time in front before we finally part.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he tells me, just as his Town Car pulls up in front of the curb.
Of course he has his own car service. I’m sure I could have one too if I mentioned to Whit that I wanted one. But I’m perfectly content taking an Uber or a Lyft.
“Bye!” I wave at him.
Monty opens the door, pausing to turn toward me. “Want a ride?”
I shake my head. “I’m good. Thank you.”
I watch the car leave, just before I pull my phone out of my bag and start tapping at the screen to order a car.
“Summer?”
I go completely still at the familiar male voice, and slowly turn around to find…
Augustus Lancaster standing in front of me, with a pretty woman under his arm. She doesn’t look much older than me, which is a little scandalous.
But not necessarily surprising.
“I thought that was you,” he says when he sees my face. “What are you doing around here?”
“Meeting a friend for lunch.” I try to smile, but it’s hard. I never felt as if he liked me much, though Whit swears he does. “How are you?”
“Great. Wonderful. Uh, this is my friend, Janna.” The dark-haired woman waves and smiles, revealing blindingly white teeth. She’s beautiful. Dressed impeccably and with a red Chanel bag on her arm.
I immediately wonder if Augustus bought it for her.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell Janna, my gaze going to Augustus’s.
“Where’s Whit?” he asks me.
“Back at the apartment.”
“Tell him to answer his old man once in a while. I would love to take you two out to dinner sometime soon. After all the—noise dies down of course,” he says.
I’m sure he’s referring to the photographers and gossip sites.
“Sounds good. I’ll be sure to let him know.”