Page 94 of False God

I didn’t expect to see him after Chloe’s wedding. But the fact that he turned the invitation down is extremely irritating. And evidence that we’re on different wavelengths. Because I—despite my convictions that we were a several-times-in-one-night kind of fling—would have happily spent this week leaving nightclubs with him. While he opted to stay in England andwork.

It’s the dismissal in my grandparents’ hallway all over again, except worse.

Because now, I know what the full experience is like. And because he took care of me, then danced with me in the moonlight.

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“That whole thing with him was … nothing.”

Bridget laughs. “Nothing? Lili, the guy begged you for a date. Drove you to the hospital. None of that’s nothing.”

“He did notbegme for a date. And a cab driver would have done the same thing.”

“He made a bet he was sure he’d win. And unless youpaidhim to drive you, it’s not the same thing.”

I exhale. Denial hasn’t done much for me. “Okay, it was something. It felt … different with him. That something that’d been missing before? It wasn’t missing with him.”

She nods. “So, call him.”

“I don’t have his number. And even if I did … I wouldn’t know what to say to him. He lives in England. I live in New York. Even if he wanted anything, how would that work?”

“Your private jet would probably help.”

I scoff. “I’m being serious, Bridget.”

“So am I. You make it work if you want it to. Neither Chase nor I wanted to. Chloe and Theo did and look at them now.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believeChloeismarried. Makes me feel old.”

“Me too. My mom got married when she was twenty-five.”

“And your parents are still together. That’s impressive.”

Bridget’s parents got divorced when we were in middle school. So did Jasper’s and Fran’s. It was a collective rough patch.

“Maybe we should take a trip to Vegas when we get back home,” Bridget muses. “Or to Canada. Meet a hunky hockey player.”

I roll my eyes. “I can’t. I have interviews next week.”

One could result in a trip to Canada, ironically, but I don’t tell her that. She’d probably try to tag along.

She sighs. “Yeah. I should probably see if the gallery is still standing.”

Bridget manages a modern art gallery in the West Village.

She taps her glass of iced tea against mine, then drains it. “I’m going to swim. You coming?”

“In a bit,” I answer. “Just going to soak up a little more sun.”

“’Kay.” Bridget stands, stretches, then dashes to the back of the boat.

I finish off my glass, too, then lie back flat and focus on nothing but the sun’s warmth.

23

Ashiny black car is parked in front of the Beaumonts’ house when we return from a full day out on the water.

“Are you expecting someone?” Chloe asks Theo.

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