a little bit of chili, I guess? That’s what Carson says anyway.”
“Was it good?”
“The best cocoa I’ve ever had in my life,” Jonah says, so fervently that I smile.
“Mildred knows how to throw a party. You have to give her that.” I feel myself relaxing for the first time all night, and press my fingertips against his sleeve with a sudden rush of affection. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He grins, looking both pleased and confused. “Well, I had to be, right? Mildred’s orders.”
“I know, but I don’t mean just here here. I mean in general. On the island.” Jonah still looks a little uncertain, and I can’t blame him. My thoughts aren’t as organized as I would like right now. “What I’m trying to say is—I’m glad I met you.”
As soon as the words slip out, my face heats with embarrassment. That’s not the kind of thing I usually say, and while I’m not sorry, exactly, because I mean it…it’s possible that the third glass of champagne was a mistake.
Jonah’s deep-brown eyes get soft. “I’m glad I met you, too. Really glad.” He licks his lips, and I have the sudden urge to trace the movement with my finger. Okay, the third glass of champagne was definitely a mistake. That realization does not, however, stop me from grabbing a fourth when a server passes by. Jonah’s gaze shifts to my glass, and he tugs at his cuffs as he adds, “The thing is—”
“There you are!” A voice interrupts from behind us. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Milly. Hello, Jonah.” It’s Reid Chilton, wearing an extra-large bow tie and a smarmy grin. The bigger, butterfly bow tie is in this year, according to GQ, and I kind of hate myself for knowing that. It’s the sort of useless information I’ve been accumulating for years, just waiting for the opportunity to dazzle my neglectful society grandmother. Joke’s on me.
“What?” Reid asks, frowning. Jonah is also looking at me strangely, and I realize I said that last part out loud.
“I said, I like your tie.”
I very obviously did not say that, but they’re both too polite to contradict me. “Thank you,” Reid says smoothly. “But nobody in this room can hold a candle to you.”
Oh, barf, I think. Then I freeze. Did I say that out loud, too? But Reid is still smiling at me, so probably not. “I think we’re at the same dinner table tonight,” he continues. “My mother is here as a guest of your grandmother. Perhaps you’ve heard of her. Senator Genevieve Chilton? Democrat from Massachusetts.”
“My mother is a Democrat from New York,” I say. “But not a senator. And not here.”
Jonah mumbles something under his breath that sounds like This is going well as Reid’s smile gets a little strained. “Your family history is fascinating,” he says.
I didn’t intend to drink any more champagne, but somehow the glass in my hand emptied itself while Reid was talking. I blame him for being long-winded. “That’s one word for it,” I say. I mean to accompany the words with a sophisticated light laugh, but it comes out as a snort. Which makes me laugh even harder. Reid stares, brow furrowed, as Jonah grips my elbow.
“My cousin and I were just going to get some air,” Jonah says. I’m still laughing. Who knew Reid was this funny? “It’s getting really hot in here. You ready, Milly?”
“Absolutely,” I say, angling for a regal tone but failing when I slur the s.
“See you at dinner,” Reid says.
“Not if I see you first,” I giggle before Jonah steers me away.
“How much champagne have you had?” he asks quietly.
Too much. That becomes clear as the room wavers around me. I’m used to sipping cocktails with my friends over the course of a couple of hours—not downing four glasses of champagne on an empty stomach. Or was it five?
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “Mildred already hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“She does. She likes Aubrey better than me. She likes you better than me, and you”—I stab one finger into his chest for emphasis—“aren’t even related to her.”
“Shhh,” Jonah mutters. He steers me around a small knot of Donald Camden clones, all silver-haired and ruddy-cheeked, chuckling in a genteel sort of way as they clutch tumblers of amber liquid. I almost point that out—Look at all the Donalds!—but Jonah is still talking. “Milly, you can’t let her get to you. I don’t think your grandmother is an especially good person. Maybe she was once,