Page 173 of Summer After Summer

“What’s that?” William says. “Ann and Charlotte are what?”

“They’re dating, Dad,” Sophie says. “She’s gay. Deal with it.”

Charlotte’s face is bright red. “Thanks for outing me. And for the record, I’m bi. Honestly, Olivia, first you steal Wes, and now this?”

“I didn’t steal Wes, and for the rest of it—”

She lifts her chin. “I can choose who I want to tell about my private life.”

“You can.” I look at my father. “Do you care, Dad?”

“Of course not. Why does everyone treat me as if I were born in the nineteenth century?”

“Sorry, Father,” Charlotte says. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“It’s perfectly all right, dear. Only I don’t understand what this has to do with everything.”

“A few more questions for Fred,” I say. “Then I’ll explain.”

“Go ahead.”

“How did you learn that the house was for sale, Fred?”

“I was approached.”

“By Ann?”

“That’s right.”

“You didn’t think that was weird?”

“I had some trepidations, but she said it was Charlotte’s idea, and she knew I had a connection to the house. I’d been looking for a property in the Hamptons for several years; that was well known in certain circles.”

“Do you know if anyone else was approached?”

“I do not.”

“I guess that doesn’t matter. It didn’t have to be you. Anyone’s money would do.” I tilt my head to the side. “Then again, I’m sure it was an extra bit of dessert for Wes that it was you.”

My use of Wes’s name ripples through the room.

He’s been remarkably silent next to me. But now, as all eyes are on him, he says, “I’m not sure what you’re inferring, Olivia. You know I don’t have any fondness for Fred.”

“No, but you do for Ann.”

The room goes still.

“What?” Charlotte says. “What?”

I wish I didn’t have to do this, that I didn’t have to expose how badly I’ve been betrayed, and Charlotte too, in front of everyone, in front of Fred, but I don’t have a choice.

I shift my gaze to Ann. She’s wearing that same dress she was wearing at the auction, the one I thought was so flattering. At her waist is the belt she was wearing the day I met her, an intricate metal design. Unforgettable.

“Why is my share divided between Wes and me? I didn’t ask you to do that.”

She doesn’t look worried in the least. “It’s for tax purposes.”

“I see. But you haven’t divided Sophie’s share with Colin.”

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