Page 34 of Love and Other Champagne Problems

I gave her a flat stare. “Don’t forget to tell him thatyouwere the one who gave me my first pack.”

“You weren’t supposed to actually smoke them.” Nancy patted Sumner on the shoulder to draw his attention back to her. “I thought she’d look cooler carrying them around. She had a hard time fitting in around here, so she should at least have looked tough, don’t you think?”

Sumner didn’t look inclined to agree, but he at least knew better than to argue. If there was one thing Nancy loved more than gossip, it was a debate. “Anything else?”

“She loves mashed potatoes, but hates it when there’s garlic butter on them. Loves avocado toast, too. Don’t keep her from her avocado toast.”

“He’s done that one already,” I said.

“She went to boarding school for those younger years,” Nancy went on unprompted, reaching deeper into the pot of Margot’s Secrets. They weren’t necessarily anything scandalous, nothing embarrassing, so I lether go on. Anything to distract her from the pool. “She came back to Addison just before she started high school.”

Sumner looked at me in surprise. “Boarding school?”

“Can’t you tell from my manners?”

This time, he nearly laughed.

It was as if Nancy didn’t hear our side conversations. “Margot’s never had a boyfriend. With the way she dresses, I think everyone around here thought she swung the other way?—”

I, in fact, shouldn’t have let her go on. “Nancy.”

“—but I caught her looking atquite indecentphotos of men on my computer once, so I think it’s safe to say she’s into your team, Sumner?—”

“Nancy.”

She huffed a little and took a drink of her lemonade while Sumner pressed his lips together, fighting a smile that still sparkled in his eyes. The sun was hot on my back, leeching into the black material of my vest.

“Oh, and she got into some fancy fashion school in New York out of high school,” Nancy added. “But her parents wouldn’t let her go.”

I stiffened with the words. Even more than me looking up inappropriate pictures on her computer, I wished she’d keptthatto herself. It felt contradictory, hypocritical, for the truth of it to come to light.

“Fashion school?” Sumner turned to me again, but I refused to meet his gaze this time.

“In New York,” Nancy explained. “One of those big expensive ones that don’t accept a lot of people, but she got in. Her parents wouldn’t let her go, though. Wouldn’t pay the ungodly amount of tuition, and madeher major in business instead, even though they have no intention to let her take over their company unless she’s married?—”

“Alright, that’s—” I began, at the same time a new voice called, “Nancy!”

The three of us turned to find Mrs. Holland rushing out of the country club’s doors while waving her arms in the air. She was a woman in her mid-sixties and had large sunglasses on her head to push her gray hair back, and despite her swimsuit, she had on a full face of makeup that sunk into her wrinkles. “We were supposed to meet at the west pool—” She faltered at the sight of Sumner, batting her lashes. “O-Oh, hello.”

Sumner inclined his head in hello, offering her the country club’s signature smile.

“I know you,” Mrs. Holland exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. “You’re the waiter Margot kissed at the fundraiser!” Her eyes scanned him up and down, lingering on his chest. “So, are you Margot’s gigolo now?”

Sumner cleared his throat quite uncomfortably, while Nancy just looked tickled at the prospect. “Uh, no—no, they hired me as her secretary.” His eyes cut to mine, and he lowered his voice. “People say that unironically?” His lips echoed the wordgigolo.

I sipped my lemonade. “Only the rich.”

“And Aaron Astor doesn’t mind that such a…fineyoung man is hanging around you, Margot?”

Truthfully, I didn’t know how Aaron felt about it all. Perhaps that was why Aaron ditched the videocall today, because he was more put off by the whole kiss than my parents told me. It made sense they’d keephis reaction from me—they were afraid that if I knew it’d caused a scene, I’d do something like it again.

When she realized I wasn’t about to answer, she turned her sights to the little old lady before me. “Nancy.” Mrs. Holland’s voice carried a whining sound to it, the same one she had initially come over with. “I told you, thewestsidepool, where there’s the kitchens and?—”

“It’s too crowded there, too many screaming kids. If I wanted to be around kids, I would’ve had my own.”

Mrs. Holland sidled up close to Nancy on the pool lounger, waggling her eyebrows. “I scoped out the joint, and the hot lifeguards are on duty today.”

It was the perfect thing to say in order to get Nancy moving. “Well, you should’ve checked earlier. Let’s go.”

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