inside, then draped Sasha’s replacement dress, safely tucked away in an opaque garment bag, across the top. It was a masterpiece, that dress. With Chase’s help, it had pulled together beautifully. The silhouette of the dress was actually pretty elegant, but we’d glitzed it up with a layer of Las Vegas-style trashy that would have made Liberace proud. It was perfect. Awful. But perfect.
I climbed into the car, reveling in the butter-soft leather and finely finished interior. “So you’ve already been to the house? Do they know you’re here?”
He shifted his weight. “No. The house has several garages. I had moved the car to the one farthest away from the main house. It’s mostly used for lawn equipment. They’d probably forgotten it was even there.”
Several garages? “What have you been driving in Charleston?” I asked. I couldn’t actually remember what kind of car it was, though I’d ridden in it a few times when he’d taken me to the grocery store, and when we’d taken Chase to the beach.
“Oh. That’s my other car.”
I shot him a look. “Seriously?”
“I know it sounds ridiculous. And I’ve been meaning to sell one or the other.”
“The other,” I said emphatically. “Sell the other one and keep this one. It’s beautiful.”
“It was a graduation present from my mother,” he said simply.
I looked over and noticed how tightly he gripped the steering wheel, his eyes hyper-focused on the road in front of him. Was that why he never drove it? Because it was a gift from his Mom? Or maybe that was the reason he couldn’t sell it? I suddenly felt, quite keenly, just how much Alex had kept hidden over the years. The realization felt a little like a punch to the gut. What hadn’t he told me? Why had I never realized how hard working for Alicio must have been for him?
I let my mind wander back to the night we’d gone to see Hamilton. I’d kissed him in the theater, but it had been brief. Heartfelt, yes. But brief. But then, after the show, he’d kissed me on the stairs of my apartment building, and it had nearly been my undoing.
We’d stood hand in hand, me one step above him so that our faces were nearly level. “I loved watching you watch the show,” he’d whispered softly. “It makes me happy to see you happy.”
With sudden clarity, I reframed so many of our experiences in New York through that filter. Alex watching me, happy because I was happy. He’d smiled through the fashion shows and the galas, the highbrow parties in elite clubs. He’d used his influence to get us into places that I never would have had access to on my own. But never because it was truly what he felt passionate about. He’d done it for me. All of it.
“You okay?”
I looked up, heat flooding my cheeks as if, just by looking at me, Alex had been able to follow my train of thought. “I’m fine,” I managed to squeak.
“We’re almost there,” he said.
“Right. Okay.” I rubbed my hands together, willing my nerves to settle. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alex
We pulled down the long, pebbled driveway that led to Alicio’s home on the remote Florida island. He’d always called it the summer house, but I’d spent just as many of my summers growing up in Manhattan as I had lounging around the Keys. It was more like Alicio liked the idea of a summer home more than he did the actual use of one. Though I had to admit, it did make a great backdrop for a wedding.
Dani craned her neck, looking out the passenger window at the looming mansion. “Wow,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”
We pulled to a stop just outside the front door and climbed out of the car. The house was beautiful. The kind of beautiful I appreciated. It had a more subdued grandeur than Alicio’s home in Manhattan. Natural wood and stone, large windows, earth tones. It blended naturally into the lush landscape of the island, the beach just yards beyond the edge of the finely landscaped grounds. I should have wanted to go inside but I held back, feeling a familiar tension spreading through my shoulders and neck.
“You okay?” Dani said.
I forced a smile. She would hate knowing how uncomfortable I was. “Sure. You ready?”
We headed up the neatly manicured pathway to the front steps. We’d left our overnight bags in the car—best not to look too presumptuous when first arriving—so my hands were free. Free, and trembling.