Elizabeth shrugged. “Maybe. I guess now we’ll never know.”
Aster stood, her legs shaky. “I’m going now,” she announced.
“Have a fun weekend with the family,” Elizabeth said, somehow managing to make it sound like a dirty word. “You can fix this mess of a spreadsheet on Monday. Oh, and Aster?” she added. “I’d keep our little chat a secret if I were you.”
13
To Corinne, it always seemed as though the compound in Meriweather emerged through a thick wall of mist like a castle in a fairy tale, and it was no different when she and her cousins rolled up the driveway that evening for the bachelorette weekend. The mansion gleamed in the setting sun. The air smelled of salt and flowers. Brightly colored daffodils exploded from oversize planters. Someone had hung a banner over the front doorway that read “Happy Bachelorette, Corinne.”
Corinne felt pained. “Guys, you shouldn’t have.”
“Actually, we didn’t.” Aster shrugged.
“Oh.”
Aster looked at Corinne for a beat too long, then hefted her monogrammed duffel over her shoulder. Something about Aster seemed off today—there were circles under her eyes and a drawn look to her face, and she’d barely said anything on the flight up.
Maybe she was distraught that they were going to Meriweather without Poppy. Or maybe her abrupt change of lifestyle was taking its toll. Corinne wanted to reach out to Aster, but who was she to dole out advice? She’d just slept with an ex-boyfriend, weeks before her wedding. On the floor of the St. Regis wine cellar, she added to herself, as though that was what made it so shocking.
She’d walked home that night, stumbling up Fifth Avenue in her heels. The sidewalk was finally starting to cool, but the summer air was sticky and warm. What had she looked like to the doorman when she’d staggered through the lobby? Upstairs, she’d found Dixon asleep in his khakis and polo, a beer on the nightstand, lights on. Had he been waiting up for her?
But, as she undressed and showered, she couldn’t stop thinking about Will, about his hands on every part of her. She shuddered. No matter how hard she scrubbed her skin, she could still feel where he’d touched her. The worst part was, she wanted it to happen again.
No, you don’t, she willed silently. Or at least she thought she’d said it to herself—when she looked up, Aster, Rowan, and Natasha stood at the front door, staring at her in anticipation, as if waiting for her to finish her sentence. She smiled at them. If she kept pretending nothing was wrong, maybe she could convince herself it was true.
Fake it till you make it, she could hear Poppy telling her on her first day of work back in the city. If you’re confident, they’ll forget about your name and trust you know what you’re doing. Hell, maybe you even do. She’d winked at Corinne—they both knew she was more than qualified for her job. She was well traveled and spoke several languages, but the last year had rattled her. While everyone thought she was in Hong Kong, she’d been holed up in Virginia, keeping the biggest secret of her life.
Now Corinne grabbed her bags, punched in the key code at the front door, and walked into the house. The foyer smelled like Lemon Pledge and lavender; even though the estate was mostly unoccupied during the off-season, the family kept a staff of four year-round. There was a bottle of wine waiting in the ice bucket, and a marble tray bearing cheese and crackers sat on the coffee table. There was a loud meow, and Kalvin, the estate’s cat, slunk out from a back room and rubbed up against Corinne’s ankles.
Corinne petted his orange-and-white fur, feeling a pang. Poppy had found Kalvin years ago on the side of the road near the family’s farm and flown him here in her dad’s private plane; they’d taken turns feeding him milk and bringing him to their beds. In fact, everything in this place—the velvet chair Poppy had curled up in with a book, the long curtains Poppy had hidden behind in games of hide-and-seek, the sweeping staircase Poppy had walked down on the day of her wedding—reminded Corinne of her cousin. She glanced around, noticing Rowan and Aster’s drawn expressions. They were probably thinking about Poppy too.
“Okay, ladies,” she said to her cousins and sister, shakily guiding everyone to the sitting room. “First things first. These are for you.” She gestured to a bag she’d brought, full of wrapped gifts.