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She refocuses on me. “How are you, Kit? How are …things?”
Bash glances between us, brows raised, no longer faking nonchalance.
“They’re, uh …” My mind goes straight to the unanswered text. “They’re still complicated.”
Sadie makes a sympathetic face. “Sorry to hear that. Edna said she saw you with a ‘special lady friend’ on Halloween, so I figured that meant things were going well.”
“Not exactly.” I avoid looking at Bash, who’s sure to have more questions about this conversation.
“Sorry to hear that,” Sadie says, and then, thankfully, she moves on to a different topic. “Where are you guys headed?”
“Thanksgiving dinner with our folks,” Bash answers. “How about you?”
“Same. Well, I’m meeting some friends for drinks first, then having dinner with my parents.”
The elevator doors open again, this time at the lobby.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” Sadie exclaims, exiting first.
I follow, avoiding Bash’s curious gaze.
I’m not used to my parents’ new place yet. They still own thepenthouse that was our East Coast home base, growing up, but their main residence now is a six-story townhouse in Greenwich Village.
My mom claimed she wanted to experience a new neighborhood. My dad said it would be a shorter commute to the office. But I have a sneaking suspicion the real selling points were the walled gardens and terrace past the private patio. And I’m pretty sure they prioritized the easy outdoor access for Ben and Jerry, not themselves.
I’m used to people mentioning my parents to me in reverent, awed tones. Amid the privileged and the powerful, my parents are at the top of the pyramid. Everyone knows the names Crew and Scarlett Kensington. And I find the fascination amusing, mostly. So separate from the present, loving parents I know.
“So, you’renotdating someone?” Bash wonders as we walk up the front steps to the double doors.
He spent the entire drive here badgering me about Collins. Or rather, about my “special lady friend” who he doesn’t know is Collins.
“Nope,” I state, stabbing the doorbell before glancing at a tight-lipped Camden.
My driver hasn’t said a single word since wishing me and Bash a happy Thanksgiving when he picked us up outside my building. It’s why he and his family were invited to Thanksgiving at my parents’. In the world of money, loyalty is priceless.
“Surprise!” The left side of the door flies open, revealing Lili.
Bash and I exchange a confused look before she flings her arms around him.
“Mom said you couldn’t make it,” he says, the statement muffled against her hair.
My sister releases Bash and reaches for me next. “I decided to hop on a flight at the last minute. I leave tomorrow. The jet lag will be hell,but I’ll survive.”
“Is Charlie with you?” I ask.
Lili shakes her head. “He couldn’t get away from classes this week. They don’t celebrate in the UK, you know.”
“I know,” I state dryly, heading inside.
Bash wasn’t exaggerating about the number of people here. I lose track of my siblings as I hand my coat off to one of the staff and continue into the living room.
My parents have invited other families to join ours in the past, but the crowd has never been this big. This place has a better layout for entertaining than their old one. I recognize all the surrounding faces, but don’t see any sign of my uncle and his family. Then recall Dad mentioned they were traveling to California to spend the holiday with Aunt Hannah’s family.
I get pulled into three separate conversations with friends of my parents on my way over to the bar set up by the arched bookcases in the living room.
With a glass of my favorite scotch in hand, I gravitate toward the piano. Classical music is piping through the speakers, but it’s hard to hear over the murmur of dozens of voices. So are the random notes I pluck.
A few minutes later, I slip my phone out of my pocket and check the screen. I have new messages, but none of them are from her.