Page 14 of Foolish Games

“It is serious. We’re in love,” I say, glancing at Robert for help. He’s busy talking to Papa Delacroix, though.

“Just remember, as the oldest child of a Delacroix family, you represent the next generation,” Nana says. “You’ll need to marry accordingly.”

“I didn’t say I was going to marry him,” I say. “But even so, he’s perfectly suitable if I wanted to.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” Nana reminds me. “You know our family decides that together.”

I’ve never been so relieved to see Sebastian Swift in my life. He sets our arugula salads in front of us delicately, giving the plates a little twirl, playing up the chance to serve us.

“Thanks,” I say, shooting him an awkward smile.

“Excuse me,” Nana says, raising her voice a notch.

My heart sinks, and I duck my head, ready for her to humiliate my brother’s friend in front of the whole family.

“Yes, ma’am?” Sebastian says, standing straight as a soldier and clasping his hands behind his back.

“Where are your gloves?” Nana asks.

“Right here,” Sebastian says, pulling the white gloves from his back pocket.

“And why aren’t they on your hands?”

“I get a better grip without them,” he says, then flashes a grin and wiggles his fingers. “Besides, my hands are my best features. Wouldn’t you rather look at these puppies than a pair of stuffy old white gloves?”

The corner of my grandmother’s lips twitch, and I think she might actually laugh at his charming argument. But then she sits up straight, giving him an imperious look. “I’d rather know my food is being served by someone with clean hands.”

“Clean as a whistle,” he says, pulling on the gloves one at a time. He really does have nice hands, big and strong with thick veins on the back. “But if you’d feel more comfortable if I wore them, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m here to serve you, Madam Delacroix. Whatever your heart desires.”

He finishes pulling on his gloves and bows, making a flourishing gesture with one gloved hand.

“That’s quite enough,” Nana says with a sniff, but her eyes are sparkling with humor as they linger on him. He flashes us a flirty smile before ducking away from the table.

I start on my salad, thankful for the interruption.

“Now, where were we?” Nana asks, and my heart deflates. So much for her being distracted and not remembering what we were talking about.

“Mapping out my whole life,” I say, an edge of resignation in my voice. “Nana, I already know every step by heart. Graduate top of the class. Have a well-rounded portfolio of extracurriculars to go with a flawless transcript when we apply to all the Ivy League schools. Graduate summa cum laude, get a master’s, and come home to marry one of the founding sons.”

“You have more opportunities than we had in my day,” she says, giving me a hard look. “You’d do well to remember that. Maybe have a little gratitude.”

“I am grateful,” I say. “But it’s the nineties, Nana. People marry for love now.”

“Some people,” she corrects. “This family has protected its legacy for generations. There’s no need to squander it by being a lovestruck fool.”

“I think the McGinty’s are on the list of acceptable, if not preferable, families you and Papa Delacroix approved.”

“For you to marry,” she says. “That’s why I expected you to be a little more adventurous before then.”

“What?” I ask, drawing back with my forkful of salad halfway to my mouth. “You were just telling me not to squander our wealth by marrying someone below me.”

“I’m not talking about marriage,” she says, taking a sip of the wine Sebastian just poured into our glasses. “Like you said, that will happen after you’ve completed your education. That’s six years away, Vivienne. We don’t want to see you tying yourself down to one boy, getting too serious so young. You only live once. So live a little.”

She gives me a conspiratorial smile, but I just gape at her. “Are you telling me to break up with Chaz?”

“I’m telling you to enjoy yourself,” she says. “I know it’s not the conventional wisdom, but I’m of the belief that if you enjoy yourself before you’re married, get all those wild hairs out of your system, you’ll be more likely to be content with your husband when the time comes. That way you won’t resent him or feel like you’ve missed out.”

“That’s… Very progressive of you, Nana.”

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