Page 73 of Love and Other Champagne Problems

“Margot.” Sumner let out a breath, and when he spoke again, there was no budging in his voice. “You don’t like me. You just like the way I make you feel.”

“Isn’t… isn’t that why you like someone?” I blinked, not understanding. “Because you like how they make you feel?”

“You’re forgetting.” He looked at me with a flat expression, wiping away the wariness and the confusion, giving me a poker face that would’ve made anyone in the ballroom jealous. “I was only hired to make you feel that way.”

I let out a soft breath, as if he’d knocked it out of me. My fingers instinctively went to my torso, as if to fiddle with my vest’s buttons, but it found nothing but the chiffon material of the cocktail dress. I’d walked up to that precipice of the unknown, just nearly about to jump off, but his words yanked me back. It was such an obvious truth that it almost felt like a slap to the face when Sumner said it.

But he wasn’t finished. “Your parents hired me to keep you from doing anything impulsive. I was paid to be at your side. I wouldn’t be here… if not for that.”

Sumner’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it left no room for misunderstanding. My parents had hired him to be my secretary; that was why Sumner stuck around. Notbecause he liked me, not because he craved my company, but because he was getting paid.

“You wanted to be my friend instead of just my secretary,” I pointed out slowly, my voice small. “I thought?—”

“I thought it’d make it easier on the both of us. Not because… Not because I had feelings for you.”

Having to follow around a rich girl because she can’t keep herself from causing trouble isn’t really ideal.

I couldn’t even be angry. Sumner was right; I’d just forgotten. It was just that, somewhere along the way, I thought it’d changed for him just as it’d changed for me. That him holding my hand, calling me pretty, and giving awestruck expression at my smiles were more than a hired reaction. That him holding me while I cried, while I let my guard down, had been more than just simple empathy.

I felt like an idiot. Margot Massey wasn’t the sweet and bubbly woman men fell for—there was no ounce of bubbliness in me. I was bitter and cruel and had more baggage than any one person would bother dealing with. It wasn’t that Aaron was a better fit for me, but rather thatIwasn’t a good fit forSumner. I knew it, and he knew it. I couldn’t blame him at all.

Along with embarrassment, something ickier worked its way up my throat, something darker. I took a step back from him. “Well, this is awkward, then.”

Sumner inhaled like he was about to speak, but stopped short. I wondered if he thought I’d fight him more on it, to challenge him and his nonexistent feelings. I didn’t look at his expression anymore; he became faceless as Ifocused on the walls, just as he’d been the first day I met him.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t hang off my arm for the rest of the night,” I said stiffly, stepping back into the role I’d allowed myself to forget the second I stepped into the closet. “Be like the rest of the staff—seen and not heard. I have my soon to be fiancé to focus on, after all.”

I didn’t wait for Sumner to respond, but turned on my heel and left the coat closet. Olivia still held my champagne flute, not even trying to hide the fact that she’d been eavesdropping. I couldn’t have cared less about her. Later, I might be embarrassed—maybe more so at the fact that I’d experienced my first rejected confession—but right now, my heart hardened back to how it’d been, closing down and returning to its normal Ice Queen state.

Once more, I was on my own, and I remembered that life was a lot simpler that way.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The lobby of the country club was bustling today, a Sunday afternoon. I felt ghostly sitting in the plush chair, watching everyone mill about. Workers carrying towels, mothers pulling the hands of their children toward the daycare, men chattering with their golf gloves hanging out of their back pockets. I watched it all silently, waiting for someone to glance over at me and make eye contact. No one did.

I flipped a page in my fashion magazine, studying the fabrics and textiles used in the pictures to avoid thinking about the world around me. I picked at the sleeve of my black long-sleeved shirt in a self-soothing comfort, my cool-toned floral-printed vest keeping my posture straight. My navy dress pants, despite the heat, were a loose wool fabric, flowy in a way that they seemed more casual than business.

I forced myself to recount my outfit from top to bottom, over and over again, reminding myself that Iwasput together. Iwasrefined. Ididbelong here.

Last night had passed in a blur after I’d returned from the coat closet without Sumner in tow. It’d been a whirlwindof bouncing from person to person, introducing them to Aaron and allowing them to gush over the newness of a fresh face. My mother accompanied us the entire time, and the short dance we’d shared had been the only time we’d been left alone.

Which prompted Aaron, when we parted ways at the elevator, to ask if we could meet the next morning. “I’d love to do something with you tomorrow,” he’d said. “Shall we meet in the lobby in the morning?”

I’d agreed, though I hadn’t really had a choice—my mother had been standing there when he asked. She had been disappointed that the night had ended without a ring on my finger. My parents had swept into my room to debrief, picking apart every scant piece of conversation we’d been able to share alone. They also came up with a plan of attack for the next afternoon—what I would say to Aaron, how I would act, to lock down his heart.

They’d been speaking and speaking, but I couldn’t focus on them until I’d heard Sumner’s hotel room door open, and it’d been well after midnight.

What he’d been doing for the two hours since we’d left the ballroom, I had no idea. I told myself not to be curious.

That didn’t work. Despite everything, I was awake all night, straining to hear the slightest sound through the walls. I listened and listened until Sumner’s alarm began blaring in its wake-up call, and I realized I’d spent the entire night thinking about someone who was not thinking about me.

Now, I flipped another page in my fashion magazine, turning my head to theside, trying to fight off a cringe. Even just thinking his name caused discomfort to bloom in my chest, following by the rushing sting of embarrassment.

While crushes weren’t things I entertained, rejection was not an unfamiliar notion. I never did much to put myself out on a limb, but I’d spent most of my life on the outskirts of the in-crowd, scorned and spurned for not conforming. Sumner’s rejection, though, hit me differently. Hurt me differently. I didn’t realize just how much I wanted him to tell me to drop everything to be with him until he didn’t say it. Until he pulled me away.I was paid to be at your side. I wouldn’t be here… if not for that.

I closed my eyes and winced again.

Sumner’s laugh suddenly floated down the hallway, and I heard him before he stepped into view from where I sat. He came from one of the main country club hallways with two women at his heel, all three of them wearing matching Alderton-Du Ponte teal polos and smiles. I recognized two of the women as servers from past events, similar to my age. Blonde. Tall. Pretty. Prettier when they smiled.

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