And she wouldn’t have done any of it if I had been there that night to stop her. Because that night, of course, was the night I met Matthew.
Like she read my mind, Jane reached out and patted my hand.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s not a competition between sob stories. I just meant I understand.”
“Am I really that transparent?” I wondered, watching as Caitlyn set her hand on Matthew’s arm. Was it my imagination, or did he encourage her? Eric seemed to be ignoring her completely. Why couldn’t Matthew?
“I don’t think I could accuse anyone in your family of transparency, Nina.”
I sniffed. “We are a stiff bunch, aren’t we?”
Jane gave a very unladylike snort. “That’s maybe putting it lightly.”
I didn’t respond. Caitlyn was now whispering something into Matthew’s ear. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but his smile momentarily disappeared. My fingers curled over my knees, hard enough that my nails dug into my flesh.
“So, what do you want to do?” Jane asked, crossing one leg over the other like she was settling in for a good chat.
I turned back from my voyeurism. “Hmmm?”
“Have you given it any thought? If you’re feeling lost, where do you want to be? What do you want?”
The sudden candor caught me off guard. It wasn’t that I had never considered the question. For some time now, I had known that a life of planning fundraisers and luncheons, sitting on endless charity committees and boards of directors wasn’t something I found particularly fulfilling. But it was in January that this feeling, this empty ache, really took root. When he was temporarily imprisoned, Eric had entrusted me to oversee the smooth running of De Vries Shipping. And while that really hadn’t consisted of more than observing board meetings and making sure no one was making crooked deals behind his back, it had been a relief to know that regardless of what happened, I was at least competent enough to step into those shoes should the need arise. But it was also equally demoralizing to discover that I didn’t particularly want to. And so, when Eric returned, I was more than happy to hand back the reins to the family carriage, so to speak. And render myself rudderless once more.
“I—I honestly don’t know,” I admitted. “I wish I did.”
“Can I ask you something?”
I tore my attention back to Jane. She seemed to be doing everything she could to wrest my attention from the scene at hand.
“Sure,” I gave in. “I mean, of course.”
She tipped her head knowingly as she adjusted her glasses. I didn’t like that look. I didn’t like it at all.
“You stayed with me for a while, Nina. Before I left for Korea, you were really fucking down,” she said bluntly. “And then, this spring, things seemed different. Up and down. You were decidedly…unstiff. Sometimes you seemed really sad. But others…almost happy. Did everything just magically get better with Calvin over the last few months? Or—and I’m just taking a wild guess here—did a certain dashing Italian with a penchant for jaunty hats have something to do with it?”
Ah, yes. The other fedora-wearing, cataclysmic elephant in the room (or today, the patio) who had sent shock waves through my life last January. I stared at my feet, resisting the urge to dive into the pool away from this line of questioning. Was my guilt written so plainly? Oh, Grandmother would be disappointed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled.
Jane looked around the party like we were discussing the weather. “Well, if that’s true, then I’ll tell him to stop looking at you like that when he thinks no one notices.”
I looked up. “Don’t you dare.”
Jane cracked a wry smile. “I wouldn’t. I just wanted to see your face when I said it. You might want to avoid being in the same room for too long, though. This crowd is just self-absorbed enough that they’ll be slower on the uptake than most, but eventually, he’s going to give the game away.”
I was doused in fear. And it must have been perfectly obvious, because Jane’s smile disappeared.
“Hey,” she said. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me and Eric, if you say anything to him. Fair warning, though—he’s a wily bastard. He probably already figured it out.”
I blinked. “I’m not saying any of this is true. But if it were…why would you…”
“Well, we like Zola pretty well. And we’re not exactly fans of Calvin. Speaking of, maybe one day you’ll