“Pleasure,” she said, extending her elegant hand.
I could feel her assessing me and then remembered that I was not supposed to know their story and could not openly assess her in the same way.
“Are you from New York?” she asked.
“Los Angeles,” I said, and she nodded.
“Did you like the film?”
“Very much…”
There was something unnerving about being in her presence. Knowing who she was and what she’d represented to Hayes. And the idea that she knew him. She knew his mouth, she knew his dick, she knew his hands. She knew what I was going back to at the hotel. She knew him.
This seemed to be happening over and over again.
“Did you like it?” I asked.
“It was fun.” She smiled. “They’re a fun bunch.”
“Yes,” I said, turning to look at her brother. “That they are.”
“Ha!” Oliver smirked. And as much as I might have wanted to, I could not hate him. Because he had that thing. That cocky thing I fell for. Every single time.
“Liam, especially,” Penelope continued. “He’s quite rascally, that one.”
I nodded, taking her in. Round breasts, narrow waist. I wondered if she’d slept with Liam, too. Lanky Liam with his darling freckles, angelic voice, and winsome smile. And then I realized how outrageous that sounded. But it was all a wee too incestuous for me. I needed to get out of there.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, “I have to check on my daughter. Penelope, it’s been a pleasure. Oliver, I’ll see you around.”
*
I found Hayes back up near the booths, engaged in conversation with a bunch of women I did not know. They could have been publicists, industry execs, ex-girlfriends, fans. I’d stopped caring.
His face lit up when he saw me, and he managed to remove himself from his admirers. “Where did you run off to? You okay?”
“Penelope is here. I just met Penelope.”
“Yeah…”
“Did you know she was going to be here?”
“I found out yesterday.”
“Were you not going to tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to worry unnecessarily.” His hand was by my face, tucking my hair behind my ear, subtly transmitting our relationship to all.
“Have you seen her yet?”
“Briefly. In the theater.” He reached out for my wrist, fingering my cuff, familiar. “Solène … It’s been over for a long time…”
“I understand that.”
He was quiet for a moment, and then: “I’m sorry you keep bumping up against my past.”
I nodded. It was something I had not had much experience with. When I married Daniel, there were only fourteen girls that he’d slept with, and they were all on the East Coast. Except for that one in Capri.
“Come,” he said. “My mum and dad are over there. I want you to meet them. Have you had a sufficient amount of alcohol?”
“Probably not.”
“Let’s get you some more champagne then, and we’ll go meet my parents.”
*
They were standing over near Hayes’s table. I could see her face in profile as we approached. She had lovely bones and flawless skin, and she looked like the boy I had come to love, and that, in itself, was unsettling. She was laughing at something and I could see her dimples, and for a moment I thought I might not be able to go through with it. But Hayes called to them and they both turned around and there was no time to run. Not that my feet could have moved if I’d willed them, because standing next to Hayes’s mother was the rakish Brit from the hotel elevator.
The air left my lungs.
“Mum, Dad, this is Solène,” he said proudly, his hand at the small of my back, encouraging, protective.
“Victoria.” She took my hand in hers, warm. Warmer than I’d expected. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Likewise,” I said.
“Ian,” Mr. Campbell said, never breaking character, his two large hands pumping mine. “Lovely to meet you, Solène.”
“My pleasure.” I might have smiled a smidge too wide. Blame it on the awkwardness, the champagne, the fact that I’d openly flirted with Hayes’s father.
I thought back to the first time that I’d met Daniel’s parents at their house on the Vineyard, and how daunting they’d seemed to me then. It felt like I was there again. Except these people were technically my generation. And I knew they were likely thinking, What the fuck are you doing with our child?
“Our son is quite fond of you,” Victoria said.
“Is he?” I turned to him, and the way he was looking at me brought to mind his expression in the photo he’d shown me with his mum and Churchill. So much adoration and awe. That it was directed at me was staggering.
“He’s pretty wonderful, your son.” I hoped I was not giving too much away. “You must be very proud of him.”
“We are,” Ian said. “Did you enjoy the film?”
“Very much, yes. It was artsier than I expected.”
“It was. Hayes says you’re in the art world?” Victoria was twirling the string of pearls around her neck. Her dress, black, classic, I recognized as Chanel. Of course.
“I am.”
“A gallerist?” Ian asked.
“Solène’s gallery is in this fantastic industrial space. And she and her partner solely represent artists that are women or people of color, which is pretty extraordinary on their part.”
“That’s rather noble,” Ian added.
“Noble?” Hayes laughed. “It’s tremendous.”
“Hayes says you have a daughter?” Victoria took it upon herself to change the subject.
“Yes. Isabelle. She’s here with a girlfriend, flitting about somewhere.”
“They’re with Lucy Balfour. They hit it off quite well.”
“How old?”
“Thirteen.”
“Thirteen.” She smiled knowingly. “It goes by quickly.”
Ouch.
“Campbell!” Rory Taylor was leaning in over the velvet rope. All gussied up, but still every bit the bad boy. He was tan, dark hair slightly disheveled, stubble, black suit, black shirt partially unbuttoned, chest tats peeking out. Was that a butterfly? A bird? “Sorry to interrupt. Hi, Mrs. Campbell, Mr. Campbell, Solène … Hayes, they want us to come up to the stage. Some introduction thing.”
“All right. I’ll be back. Don’t go too far.” He kissed me. In front of his parents, he kissed me. And part of me wanted to crawl under the fucking booth and die.
*
“So you’re the girlfriend?”
Sometime after the band and the director and a handful of studio execs had officially thanked everyone for coming out and posed for a bunch of photos onstage, I ran into Ian near a side bar.
I was three champagnes in and looking for my fourth. “I’m the girlfriend.”
“Wow. That’s impressive. Even for him. However did he…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. I’m not sure I want to know.”
I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it before, but it was all there: Hayes’s nose, Hayes’s jawline, Hayes’s hands, Hayes’s fingers …
“So, I take it we’re not running tomorrow,” he laughed.
I shook my head, smiling. “Probably not…”
“Yes, that’s probably for the best.”