“Are you fine folks ready to order?”
We haven’t even opened our menus, but Congressman Porter starts rattling off a list of selections for the table, from foie gras starters to the Wagyu beef with pommes frites, and chocolate ganache “drizzled” with gold shavings for dessert. Someone apparently isn’t too concerned about the bill.
“So, tell us about yourself, Lana,” Mrs. Porter says in her soft voice, after her husband finishes ordering half the menu.
“Well.” I pause, contemplating the question I’ve been asked a zillion times and still loathe. “I spent my childhood in Manhattan, before my mom was elected and we moved to DC. I’m an only child, since my parents’ dual careers didn’t leave them much time for kids. But it’s never bothered me because I have a ton of friends who are like family, anyway.” What else? “Oh, and I love fashion and traveling. My grandparents live in San Juan, Puerto Rico, so we spend the first two weeks of summer vacation there every year.”
“Lana is an awesome dancer, too,” Chace adds.
Mrs. Porter lights up.
“Are you in Oyster Bay’s dance program? Ballet or modern?”
I laugh awkwardly.
“No, Chace was just flattering me. I like to dance for fun, that’s all.”
“Oh, isn’t that nice.”
I sense a tinge of disappointment, and my newfound insecurity flares up. What if she wanted someone more accomplished for her son? My own mother’s words echo in my ears: “In the upper echelons of DC society, it’s not enough to simply be beautiful and popular. You’ve got to have something more, Lana.”
Right. So…what is my “something more”?
Our first courses arrive and soon we’re busy digging in, with the Porters making conversation about their holiday plans, Chace’s soccer career, and how his younger brother, Teddy, is doing at his new middle school. I chime in wherever I can, doing all the little things that usually make me the life of the party—displaying my signature wit, smiling like a girl with the world at her feet, pretending I’m having more fun than anyone else. And then a moment arrives where I spot an opportunity to score some points.
“Seriously, though,” I say, while we’re on the subject of Chace’s recent winning game. “As if it’s not impressive enough that he’s a total star on the field, he also happens to be the nicest, humblest guy I’ve ever met. Let me guess—he’s probably never given you a day of trouble in your lives, am I right?”
It’s meant to be a butter-’em-up compliment, of course. The Porters should smile magnanimously, tell me how great it is to see their son with a girl “who clearly gets it.”
But instead, Mrs. Porter drops her fork with a clatter, and the three of them exchange a look.
“We got lucky, I suppose,” Congressman Porter finally says, smiling like the politician he is. But I know politicians, and I can tell he’s hiding something. What could it be? I turn to Chace, but he’s not looking at me. His eyes are focused on the table.
After the moment of awkwardness, Congressman Porter starts in on a series of questions about our teachers and classes, and soon the dinner returns to normal. But in the back of my mind, I can’t stop wondering…what was it about my remark that triggered such a weird reaction?
Chace’s roommate, Ryan, is out on a date of his own, so we find their dorm blissfully empty when we get back from dinner. I’m crossing my fingers for Ryan to score tonight, more for our sakes than for his. After two months of dating, Chace and I are still at a very PG-level of hookups, thanks to the utter lack of privacy here at Oyster Bay. I’m dying to sleep in the same bed, to curl my body into his, to run my lips over every curve.
“Lana?”
Chace repeats my name, looking at me questioningly, and my cheeks heat up. I wonder if he can guess where my mind ran off to.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I was just asking if my parents were what you expected. If they’re like yours.” He sits on the bed and pulls me onto his lap.
“Well…” It’s hard for me to focus with his hands around my waist. “I guess so. Your dad and my mom have the same sort of steeliness about them. Your mom was really sweet.” I pause. “Why did everyone act funny when I said you must have given them no trouble? I was only talking up my man.” I give him a teasing look.
Chace tightens his grip around me.
“Eh, I wasn’t always the best kid.”
I look at him dubiously.
“Well, I can’t imagine you ever being a bad boy. I mean, you actually like Nicole’s classical music. That has to make you a bit square, sorry to say.” I laugh, but Chace doesn’t seem to get the joke.
“Some people are bad by accident,” he says simply. “Or they’re forced into it.”
“Okay, well, now you’ve got me intrigued.” I give him a light poke in the ribs. “Spill.”