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Now Itrulyfelt out of place.
Mr. Roberts’s voice was a quiet scolding in my ear.I might recommend you be more mindful of personal relationships while on Alderton-Du Ponte grounds. Yeah, this was quite literally doing the opposite of his advice.
Thankfully, Monica noticed the new additions to our party right away, coming over and getting their drink order—and delivering more mimosas. Caroline picked hers up immediately. “So, Aaron, how long are you in Addison for?”
“The charity’s hosting a fundraiser at the end of the month,” he replied, leaning comfortably in his seat. “So I’ll be here for that. Annalise, when are you heading back?”
“The ninth.”
“I’ll probably book my ticket for the same timeframe.” Aaron delicately laid a napkin over Fiona’s lap. “I’d hate to leave the fun early.”
His birthday was on the sixth. So Aaron planned to go back to Californiamarried. How he was going to sell Fiona on a rushed wedding was beyond me. But like Caroline said, Fionawasdesperate to get married—maybe it wouldn’t be too hard of a sell.
“How are the talks about the Du Ponte Music Hall coming?” I asked Aaron. I could be normal. I could engage in conversation. Despite how I felt, I could fit in. “Is the charity hoping to host the fundraiser in that space?”
Aaron didn’t look over, though, but tore open one of the wet wipes on the table and dabbed at his fingers. “That’s the plan, if the board stops playing hard to get. They’ve gone from missing the key, to insisting it’s a safety issue to enter. That the stage itself is falling apart. They should be more creative with their lies, don’t you think? Our charity director is giving them too much leeway.”
“You might as well give up,” Caroline told him. “Take the cash they’re offering. It’s much better than fighting for something they won’t let you have.”
“The music hall is something the original owner had designed, isn’t it?” Aaron asked as he reached for the bread at the center of the table. “It’d be a shame to tear it down.”
Caroline gestured at him with her mimosa. “You didn’t even like Nancy Du Ponte.”
Aaron smiled, but his eyebrows drew together. “According to whom?”
“To be honest, whodidlike Nancy Du Ponte?” Fiona wrinkled her nose. “She was old and mean.”
“And crazy,” Caroline added.
“Margot.” I didn’t look at anyone as I spoke. “Margot liked Ms. Du Ponte.”
Fiona’s frown deepened. “And who even liked Margot?”
“I did.” Aaron slid his butterknife along the bread, diligently spreading it, not glancing up as he sent the table into a hush. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he did so, and he gave his head a little flick to knock the lock back. “To answer your question, dear Caroline, my liking of Ms. Du Ponte has nothing to do with it. I just believe it would be a shame turning something with history since the 1940s into another amenity meant to cater to those who don’t appreciate its value.”
“My father’s in luxury real estate,” Caroline said, crossing one leg over the other. “He says sentiment is the fastest way to tank a deal. If a spa brings in more members than a stage ever could, what’s the point of preserving nostalgia? Around here, people don’t appreciate the value of music theaters.”
“A fundamental flaw,” Aaron murmured, lifting his gaze to hers. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
I fought the urge to smile. Even though my relationship with Aaron was tumultuous at best, it was a relief to see him so passionate about saving the hall. That he was on the same page as me—the only one who was.
“Caroline,” Fiona began, waving her hand over the table as if to catch Caroline’s attention. “I heard your brother’s coming home for the fundraiser at the end of the month. Is it true he’s bringing his new girlfriend?”
I stilled with my fingers on my mimosa stem, my world screeching to a halt.
Grant hadn’t been back to Addison since last July. It’d been the world’s quickest trip, because he’d wanted to be back before the semester started in August. Quick enough that he’d never made an appearance at Alderton-Du Ponte—just my apartment. He’d whispered empty promises in my ear, like he’d done every time he came home.
It’s only you, he’d said.
It’s hard, being apart for so long, but I’m building a future for us, he’d said.
I’ll come back for you, like I always do,he’d said.
The calming, placating words were meaningless now, just as they had been back then. It was like thinking someone had been performing Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 for real, but finding out they’d synced their phone up with the speakers instead.
I knew now, he’d said those things to appease his own conscience. A lie. All of it had been a lie.
“Fiona,” Annalise hissed, jaw dropping. Caroline’s face could’ve been carved from stone.