Page 52 of Love and Other Champagne Problems

Vivienne took it in with a soft head nod. “So, you caused that woman to spill her drink to stop me?”

I could feel my cheeks burn. “I—I don’t know what I was thinking. I did it on impulse.”

“I see.” Her voice gave nothing away. I held my breath as I stared at the tiled ground, waiting for her decision. “Would you like to see him? Aaron? I’ll show you a picture first, before anyone else.”

When I looked at her, her expression was light, almost caring, an expression I rarely saw. Especially not at the country club. She had her phone pulled out in her hand already, though her screen was still black. I stared at it, at her offer, the meaning of it slowly breaking through my surprise of it. This was my opportunity to finally see my fiancé. To see if he truly was a frog or a prince. To see him first.

To see if he was Sumner or not.

What does it change?The thought surfaced like a buoy breaching the water.Seeing him now or seeing him in a few weeks. What will it change? What if it makes you feel worse?

And that, ultimately, caused my stomach to sink. “No,” I managed to get out, listening to the thoughts even though I wasn’t sure I should’ve trusted them. “Thank you, but if he prefers to wait until we see each other in person, I’ll wait.”

Vivienne nodded, pocketing her phone. “Then I won’t show anyone else, then, either. Your respect, Margot, is what I seek more than anyone else’s.” With this, she gave a not-so-discreet glance once more at my father.

His hand at my back pressed in deeper, though I tried to ignore it. “Mine?”

“Why should I worry about what anyone else thinks? They aren’t the one my son has his eye on.” Vivienne came close enough to touch me lightly on the shoulder, her expression as gentle as ever. She drew me close, just enough that it forced my father’s hand off my back. “If you change your mind, just let me know. Bit of advice, though. Next time, words go a long way.”

The scolding felt very motherly—at least, in the way a mother was supposed to scold. The intention was there, but soft, in a way that made me feel guilty, but not weighed down. It wasn’t anything like the tone my mother used.I don’t know where I went so wrong to have a daughter like you.

“I will be taking Mrs. Astor to the airport to fly back to California,” my father informed me, his hand falling onto my shoulder. “Then she’ll be back for Annalise and Michael’s wedding at the end of the month.”

“Exciting times, seeing Aaron’s best friend getting married,” she murmured, pressing her hands together. “And it won’t be long until we have another wedding to prepare for, hopefully.”

My father squeezed my shoulder again until I smiled.

“You’ll be riding with us, right?” Vivienne asked me. “I’d love to talk more on the car ride to the airport.”

My initial reaction was to decline, thinking of Sumner and Nancy waiting in the tearoom. Strangely, though, a part of me didn’t want to decline. While I wanted to go back and enjoy my avocado toast, I, too, wanted to get to know Vivienne better, even if it was with the ears of my father listening in. “Of course,” I replied without my father’s prompting, offering her a genuine smile. “I’d love to.”

As we wheeled her suitcase toward the entrance, I replayed the conversation over and over in my head. Kindness was such a rarity, so much so that it seemed wrong to blindly accept it. Especially coming from her. The players in this game never stopped surprising me, much like how a rug being ripped from under my feet would surprise me. Vivienne, the woman my parents had done a fine job of building up as a daunting figure in my head, turned out to be lovelier than I thought. Could someone as influential to my life as her really be that kind? Had I really gotten that lucky?

I reached up and touched my shoulder where her hand had been, swallowing hard. Perhaps I had.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Isat in the middle of my bed that night with my knees drawn to my chest, the silk of my nightgown pooling around me. I had my arms wrapped around my legs and my chin resting on top, staring out the window even though I could only see my reflection in the black. My dark hair hung over my one shoulder, but it only stretched down a smidge past my collarbones. If someone were to have stumbled into my hotel room, they would’ve thought a ghost sat atop of the bed instead of a young woman.

I suppose, really, Ifeltlike a ghost. It was one of the pitfalls of living in the hotel, the loneliness. Surrounded by people at all times, but ones I’d never interact with. Ones who didn’t know I existed. Except for one.

Sumner was on the other side of the wall, but I couldn’t hear him. I wondered if he was asleep.

Airport traffic was hell, which meant my father and I hadn’t gotten back to the estate until a little after five. My mother, who’d stayed back at the country club due to a meeting, told me that Sumner had driven Nancy homebefore working a short shift in the pool area. I hadn’t sought him out once I returned, needing to decompress.

I’d known going into the drive that I liked Vivienne Astor, but I came out of it loving her. She had such a warm and endearing sort of personality; like Sumner, the way she spoke left me feeling seen. She’d asked me about college, about my hobbies, about my likes and dislikes. The attention had been fully on me as we chatted in the backseat of my father’s car. And when she’d finished asking me questions, it was my turn to ask a few of my own—about her son.

“He’s insecure,” she’d told me. “Almost to a detriment. His brothers are a bit older than him, and seeing them achieve big things has left him nervous to branch out, I think. He’s very good at keeping it to himself, but he never puts himself out there. That’s why, I think, he’s so nervous to meet you. It’s sweet, really. Or, well, I think so—I am his mother, after all.” She’d laughed then.

Insecure. Nervous. They weren’t words I’d ever associated with Aaron Astor before. Arrogant had been one, uncaring another. I’d asked her then what had him so smitten with me, if she knew.

Vivienne had lowered her voice and shifted closer in her seat to me. “He was feeling quite shy at the event, and wanted to escape to get some fresh air, but saw you out on the balcony,” she’d replied, a lovely smile on her face. “The way he describes it… You were standing in a corner by yourself, and he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you since.”

I couldn’t help but think how lonely you looked, Sumner had told me once upon a time.That’s why I’m being nice. Because I know what it’s like to feel alone in a room full of people.

I fell back on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, seeing shapes in the plaster. A useless thought. A childish one. Him and his stupid boyish smiles and endless positivity. His ridiculous ways of comfort and attempts at amusement. Him and his stupid mouth. I wasn’t sure I’d ever in my life thought twice about someone like this, but then again, had I ever been close to someone like this before? Destelle, maybe, but I’d never even held her hand. I’d definitely never kissed her.

I curled my hand into a fist, attempting to banish thoughts of his hand on mine. The thought of his mouth?—

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