Page 66 of Look on the Bright Side

Lorenzo had looked at her as she emerged from her room at 6:29 p.m., simply nodded and opened the door so they could leave. He wore a tux (custom made, no doubt) and looked as icy and handsome as a Norwegian prince.

The other Santinis were gathered in the foyer, all looking beautiful and a lot more approachable. Sofia wore a pale blue Grecian-style gown, looking like a movie star with her curly black hair piled on her head. Izzy had on a short, bright green shift dress, and Anita was dressed in a floral blue and white print.

“Oh, my God, you look amazing!” Izzy said. “Turn around! Girl! Look at this low back! Fire, honey. Fire! Dante, help us out here, or Lark’s gonna burn the place down.”

Dante glanced her way, did a double take, then recovered. She felt her own cheeks grow hot.

“You look very handsome, Dante,” she said, nodding at his blue suit.

“You clean up nice, too, Doc,” he said. He gave her a quick smile and glanced away.

Noni was in a long dress (no wig, obviously), and Lorenzo immediately went to her side and bent over to say hello. There. He smiled. He was capable of it. Then he pushed her wheelchair into the St. James Room, the “intimate” space for only 150 people. The rest of them followed.

“I feel like I’m on the set of Bridgerton,” Izzy said. “Wow.”

Wow was right. The carved wooden ceiling was dazzling, and the giant chandelier glowed. On the tables sat lush flower arrangements of blush roses, creamy lisianthus and pink peonies with trailing English ivy. Huge windows overlooked the street, and all the guests were dressed to kill. Lark was suddenly glad she had on this particular outfit. She definitely didn’t look poor and out of place, as Lorenzo had so inelegantly put it.

There were probably seventy-five people there, sipping cocktails, talking in clumps and clusters. Lots of laughter, lots of excitement, definitely good mojo. Sofia and Henry moved through the crowd, greeting their guests. Henry was his mother’s only child—his dad had remarried and had one or two kids significantly younger, as Lark recalled. But Jocelyn had quite a few siblings, she learned, and there were lots of aunts and uncles on both sides.

“So nice to meet you,” Lark said over and over. “I’m Lark Smith, Lorenzo’s girlfriend.”

“Lorenzo has a girlfriend?” was the standard response.

“It’s still new,” she said, feeling her cheeks flush with the lie. Mom had had a point about dishonesty. But she was welcomed and kissed and complimented as her date stood by like a disdainful royal, watching and judging, his expression only thawing a bit when he looked at Sofia, clearly his favorite sibling, or spoke to Noni, who seemed sharper around him.

He really wanted to impress, Lark thought with a pang of sympathy. He wanted everyone to see this…his success, his generosity, his good taste. It was sad. She would’ve loved to see him laughing, flirting with some of the older women, as Dante and Silvio were, showing genuine warmth and affection. But he was not hers to fix, and he didn’t think he needed fixing.

When they sat down, Silvio took the microphone and welcomed everyone, and Jocelyn said a few words, too, then Sofia and Henry said how glad they were to be here.

“Thanks to my wonderful big brother for throwing us this absolutely beautiful party,” she said, her eyes shining with tears. “I’m so proud to be your sister, Lorenzo.”

Lorenzo gave a courtly nod. Lark put her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. He was a generous brother, and Sofia’s happiness was contagious. After a second, Lorenzo squeezed back. He didn’t let go, either.

It was not a comfortable sensation. Lark suddenly felt like there was a spotlight on the two of them, on their joined hands. It felt weird and unnatural, like her hand wasn’t her own, really. She tolerated it as long as she could, then subtly slid her hand free and took a sip of champagne.

She didn’t like touching Dr.Satan. Robbie and Grandpop were going to be disappointed. Not the rom-com they were looking for.

Other than that one moment, Lorenzo more or less ignored her as the evening went on. Oh, he made sure she had a glass of champagne and pulled out a chair for her, but talking? No. But that’s what she was here for, right? To be charming and not emotionally needy or too attached to her date. Maybe she should’ve taken Lorenzo up on his offer to pay her after all.

All her life, Lark had been used to a certain amount of attention. She was an identical twin, which came with instant celebrity. She knew she and Addie were pretty (possibly beautiful). All the Smiths were. But Addie had always been the center of attention when they were together, the life of the party, the organizer of the events. Lark had been better at hanging back to admire her twin (which she totally did), holding Harlow’s hand or playing with Robbie and Winnie. Even with her closer friends, like Jordyn from elementary school, Luis from work, or with Joy, she liked being a sideliner, listening more than she spoke, encouraging their stories, their feelings. It was safe and comfortable, something she’d learned from the uterus on.

Maybe that was why Justin had made such an impact on her when they were five. He saw her. Not as the quiet twin. Just as herself. With him, and with his parents, there’d been room for her to shine, too, and the love she’d gotten from Justin had been as warm and steady as the sun.

The point was, she thought now, chatting about the wedding with Sofia’s best friend from college, being a sideliner had always allowed Lark to see things.

And what she saw now was that Lorenzo was avoiding his family. He loved Sofia and honored Noni as the matriarch, both protective of and deferential to her. But otherwise, he kept a huge distance. It wasn’t pride, she thought. It was…shame? He would glance at his parents, then quickly look away before they saw. He seemed irritated by Izzy, maybe because he felt she should’ve become a doctor, maybe because she lacked the slight air of worship Sofia had for him. A tight smile for his mother, then back to Noni, who was drinking gin and frowning at the appetizers.

But he could barely look at Dante. Every time Dante was in his line of vision, Lorenzo’s gaze bounced away. There was a universe of unspoken emotion lurking between the brothers. Dante, on the other hand, would look at Lorenzo steadily, without hostility but without a sliver of warmth, either.

“Hey,” said Izzy, appearing at her side. “You doing okay?”

“Oh, sure,” she said. “I don’t get to play dress-up too often. How about you? Having a good time?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you have a special someone, Izzy?” she asked.

Izzy snorted. “No. Just broke up with a radiology tech after he wasted six months of my life. Why pretend you’re interested in marriage when you’re still on Tinder, huh? Why?”

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