Page 28 of Never the Best

Rafe sighed. "I don't know why everyone thinks I'mhittin'on anyone. I'm just bein' friendly."

"I'm not your girl." Luna pushed Dom away. "I see Camy Channing is here, and I have it on good authority that she's expectin' a proposal from you by Labor Day."

"Does that bother you, Luna, darlin'?" Dom winked at her.

I fanned myself with my hand. "Rafe, I think I need a cool drink, 'cause the sparks between these two are making me uncomfortably hot," I teased, suddenly feeling alright about being at a party because I was with friends.

But eventually, the introvert in me wantedmetime. The party continued, but I managed to slip away. No one wouldnotice I was gone. The summer night wrapped around me like a warm, heavy blanket. The air smelled of magnolias, fireworks, and barbecue—a strange combination. The hum and chatter of conversation mingled with the distant hum and chirping of cicadas as I got closer to my cottage.

It had been a strange evening. I had a good time with mynewfriends. My family ignored me. My mother had given me air kisses so that no one would say, "Did you see how Birdie and Pearl didn't even say hello? I hear there's trouble in paradise." Caroline had done the same. Since Alice and Maddie were not at the party, I didn't see any reason to hang around my family.

If I'd lived in Savannah my whole life, maybe I'd have more patience and desire to build bridges with my brother and mother, but I'd been gone for so many years and enjoyed my freedom, that being in their presence and experiencing their constant censure was stifling.

I rounded the corner that took me to my cottage and, on impulse, walked up to the gazebo with a view of what I liked to callmypond. The gazebo was gorgeous, tucked away near a cluster of hydrangeas that glowed pale blue in the moonlight. It was small but elegant, with white latticework and vines of jasmine curling up the posts. I came here to have coffee in the mornings as I checked the news and my emails on my phone. I stepped inside and leaned against one of the wooden railings, letting out a long, unsteady breath.

“Escaping, too?”

I jumped at the sound of Rhett’s voice, spinning aroundto find him standing just outside the gazebo, his hands in his pockets.

"I live here," I told him.

"Well,I amescaping," he announced.

"Good for you." I was about to walk away, but he stepped inside the gazebo, cutting off my access to the stairs that would take me down the garden to my home.

"I run by here most mornings," he told me as he walked to the other end of the gazebo, looking at the little pond dressed up with lotus flowersanda few ducks.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy but not entirely uncomfortable. He leaned against the rail, facing me. I could walk away now if I wanted. I didn't have to be here.

He sighed.

I arched an eyebrow. "That sounded profound."

"Did it?"

Go home, Pearl. You don't have to talk to this asshole.

"Yeah, like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."

He seemed more reflective in the moonlight. He didn’t have the polished, Savannah-golden-boy façade. He looked tired. Not physically, but definitely emotionally. I knew how that felt; I could recognize it.

"I sometimes feel like I am." He looked past me at the garden behind me. "I needed a break."

“From what?" I challenged, folding my arms, my posture defensive.

He didn’t respond right away, he just watched me with a quiet intensity. “From pretending,” he said at last.

I stiffened. “Pretending to be what?"

His jaw tightened. “A Vanderbilt."

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Are you having a case of the poor, little rich boy blues?"

He smiled sadly. "Can't blame you for thinkin' that, Pearl."

It unsettled me. When we were teenagers, he'd have responded barb for barb.

"Well, I'll leave you to?—"

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