Chip seemed understandably nervous to be facing the Martins once again, because even he knew that Scarlett and Spencer weren’t his biggest fans. Scarlett’s dislike was fairly tepid, but Spencer genuinely couldn’t stand him and had never hidden that fact. Chip had no real personality; at least, Scarlett had never seen it. It may have been one of those things that stayed hidden most of the time, like a groundhog.
But that wasn’t the problem. Chip’s crime was something he couldn’t really help. He was rich. Seriously rich. Bona fide, centuryold, New York society, private school rich. To be fair to him, Chip never bragged about his wealth, nor did he appear to care that Lola and her family came from a totally different financial league. He was not snobbish. If anything, he acted like he’d recently landed on the planet and was charmed and fascinated by the things he found there. The magical underground “subway” train that transported people all over the city. Credit card limits. Doing your own laundry. Having a job. Chip gazed in wonderment at it all.
This trait, however innocent, had never been very endearing to Spencer or Scarlett. Scarlett thought Chip was dull and a little dim. Spencer exhibited something that ranged from profound irritation to seething hatred. Scarlett always assumed that this had something to do with seeing a guy a year younger than himself, who had an endless spending limit, no known vocation, and no pressure to accomplish anything right away. Chip would get four years of college to continue his lacrosse-playing and shirt-buying, and maybe a year or two after that, before anyone asked him what he planned on doing with the rest of his life.
He loved Lola. Of that, no one had any doubt. He loved Lola with a kind of palpable, squeamish love. His eyes followed her when they were in a room together, and when she left, his brain seemed to go into a sleep mode, waiting for her reappearance. He cared enough about Lola to extend his hand to Lola’s tall, unpredictable older brother who had fixed him with a gaze of stone. Scarlett had no idea what Spencer was going to do with the extended hand—so many things were possible in his world—but he merely shook it. Even Chip seemed surprised by this.
“I like your tie,” Spencer said.
Chip grabbed the tie reflexively with his free hand.
“Oh…thanks. I just got it. I’ve been looking for one in this color for a while. They don’t make this shade that often, so…anyway, I found it at Hugo Boss and…”
Spencer’s face had frozen in a tableau of slightly exaggerated interest, inviting Chip to keep digging his hole, keep talking about his tie until the universe finally went poof, rolled itself back into a ball, and took itself home.
Lola quietly emerged from the restroom. Chip opened his mouth to say some kind of greeting, but failed. Lola smiled shyly and put her head down.
“Chip got a new tie,” Spencer said. “I did something with a tie this morning, Chip. Want to see?”
Before Spencer could demonstrate his strangulation method, Marlene reappeared.
“Table’s ready!” she said.
“Guess we should sit,” Lola said, knocking Spencer gently out of the way as he reached for Chip’s tie. “Lead the way, Marlene.”
As she walked off, Lola mouthed the words “stop it” over her shoulder, and Spencer pointed to his heart, as if he had no idea what she could possibly mean.
“Remind me to kill Marlene later,” he said quietly to Scarlett. “Just in case I forget. Let’s eat and get this over with. And eat a lot. Order everything.”
At the table, Lola and Marlene were positioning themselves on a bench seat against the wall. Chip was milling around, trying to do the mental math about where he should sit. He backed up on Scarlett and Spencer’s approach, letting them take whatever seats they wanted. Spencer delayed sitting down, hesitating between two chairs for over a minute. Chip eventually got so nervous from this that he excused himself.
“Sit!” Lola exclaimed when Chip was out of earshot.
Spencer gleefully took a seat next to Scarlett. A trayful of organic guava smoothies arrived, unbidden. These were the best drinks in the place, but were also shockingly expensive.
“Chip is trying to win us over with fancy fruit drinks, huh?” Spencer asked, accepting one.
“I ordered them,” Marlene said. “I also got guacamole.”
“Spencer,” Lola said, “be nice!”
“I was,” he said, straightening the napkin on his lap. “I was being very nice. I was asking him about his nice tie.”
“I know what you were doing.”
“Yes, but could you prove it in court?”
“Spencer, please…”
“What? I’m telling you, nice is my middle name. Right, Scarlett?”
“Your middle name is Reynolds,” Scarlett said, sipping from her smoothie.
“Just one night,” Lola said. “Please, Spence. Don’t bait him. He’s trying to be friends.”
“Kind of a pointless activity, don’t you think? Considering that he’s your ex, and he’s leaving the city tomorrow?”
“Stop it, Spencer!” Marlene said, a note of absolute authority in her voice. “Don’t ruin everything!”