Page 95 of The Paradise Problem

I blink. I mean, I know nothing about escrows and whatnot but I’m pretty sure houses aren’t bought in a day. “Isn’t their honeymoon, like, tomorrow?” I ask.

No one pays me any attention, and Ray turns to leave and barrels right into a woman carrying a tray of mimosas. Glasses sail through the air, crashing with bright chaos onto the patio; one lands on Janet’s lap, and Ray is absolutely doused in orange juice and champagne.

“Are you fucking blind?” he roars, and the woman falls to her knees beside Janet, scrambling for napkins to mop up the orange lake on the lap of her Dior loungewear. Waiters rush over with brooms and mops, sweeping up the piles of broken glass, cleaning the floor.

“Hello?” Ray booms, throwing his hands up. “Does anyone have a towel for me?”

Charlie and Kellan rush to stand, handing him their napkins as another waiter comes over with a towel that Ray snatches from his hand and uses to mop at his shirt, a polo with the logo of some corporate golf tournament printed on the pocket. His eyes are the color of a muddy puddle and just as deep, as he stares down at the waitress still trying to help Janet dry off.

“Oh just… let it go,” Janet seethes before standing and storming out of the restaurant.

The waitress slowly rises, turning to face Ray. “Sir, I am so sorr—”

“What’s your name?” he barks, ice in his voice.

“Thuy.”

“Thuy, do you want to hear what I have to say, or would you prefer to bring me your manager?”

Her neck flushed, chin shaking, Thuy jogs off, and I look around as Alex, Charlie, Jake, and Kellan return to their breakfasts. Blaire sits back in her chair, her jaw tight, eyes fixed at a point in the distance. I glance at Liam, who is staring with fire up at his father. “Dad,” he says steadily, “you ran into her.”

Ray waves a hand. “It’s fine.”

Reagan catches my eye and panic consumes her expression. This isn’t only embarrassing for her, it’s probably terrifying. I give her a reassuring smile and mouth, “It’s okay.”

But I’ve lied. It isn’t okay. The manager comes out, listens as Ray quietly enumerates the many transgressions this poor woman has made upon him and his family, and then shakes Ray’s hand saying, “I’ll handle it.”

Ray sits back down in his seat, lifts his napkin, and lets it float down over his lap, picking up his fork like nothing has happened.

“Tell me you didn’t have that woman fired,” Liam says.

Ray stills, a bite of caviar-topped poached eggs hovering on the fork in front of him. “You think someone like that should be working in a Michelin-starred restaurant?”

“Maybe a one-star, definitely not two,” Jake jokes with mock seriousness, and Charlie and Kellan exhale quiet, courteous laughs.

But Liam remains undeterred: “You collided with her, Dad.”

“Do you have any idea how much I’m paying for this wedding?”

Blaire stands up, dropping her napkin on the table and walking away, tilting her head for Reagan to follow. Ray doesn’t even seem to notice. Around us, the three other Weston siblings and Kellan eat in silence, pretending they don’t hear any of this. Only the three little boys look around in confusion, trying to read the cues.

It’s for them that I speak up: “Whatever you’re paying, it isn’t enough for you to treat a waitress like that.”

Ray turns his stony gaze to me, and it takes everything in me to not look away. “She’s in the service industry,” he says flatly. “It’s her job to be invisible.”

Liam cuts out a sharp “Dad.”

Ray continues to stare at me for a handful of seconds before slowly blinking his gaze over to Liam. “I need you to give Ellis some time at the reception today.”

He’s just made his point: Anna, too, should be invisible.

“Ellis Sikora?” Alex asks, while Liam and Ray have a silent showdown. “From Forbes?”

I pull a deep breath in through my nose, turning my attention to my plate. My heart rolls violently, a catfight in my chest. In my peripheral vision, I see Liam’s hands curled into fists on either side of his plate.

I feel when he turns to look at me and meet his gaze. I’m relieved to see the same horror I feel reflected back in his eyes. Yes, this morning has been an amazing smorgasbord of sex, and perfect bites of pineapple, and smiling whiskey eyes, and good news, and even better news. But reality washes over me like ice water. This dynamic isn’t kooky and wonderful. This family isn’t a charming group with a few warts. This family is gross. Liam is paying me a sum of money that I wouldn’t earn in three years working two jobs and yet, with Dad’s medical expenses, it won’t even last me the rest of the year. Meanwhile, these assholes are buying a house for a honeymoon and firing a waitress Ray basically tackled for spilling mimosa on a shirt he got for free. I feel like sweeping my arm down the table and sending all the fancy crystal and porcelain crashing to the floor.

I drop my napkin on my plate and stand. Without a word, Liam does the same, and we walk together out of the restaurant.

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