Edge had asked Margot for a favor.
Edge, you know I can’t, she had said.
But once Margot had gotten into the office and reflected on the evening at Picholine and the deliciousness of waking up in Edge’s bed, she had decided that she would do anything for the man. She would have wrestled an alligator, she would have tattooed his name on her lower back.
But she had done worse.
The grandfather and grandmother clocks announced six thirty, and Margot thought, I’ve had it, I’m leaving. They do not deserve a personal chauffeur. They can walk to the yacht club. The wine had buoyed Margot a little, and she thought, I’m going to see Edge! She then wished that thinking about Edge brought her more happiness and less self-doubt.
As she stood to go, collecting her wrap and cocktail purse, she heard voices and laughter. A moment later, Nick and Finn walked into the house. Nick was carrying Finn on his back; Finn was resting her head on Nick’s shoulder.
Margot, unable to leave personal prejudice out of this particular boardroom, said, “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
They both gazed at her, startled. Caught. Margot felt like an ugly, mean headmistress, holding a switch.
Nick set Finn down. Finn was… wow… wickedly sunburned. Her face, her chest, her back—she was fried. Margot thought about the following day when Finn would have to wear the grasshopper green dress. She would look awful in the photographs, like a frog that had been through the blender, and no amount of makeup would hide it. This was Finn at her worst, silly and careless; she was still the same seventeen-year-old girl who had left the Worthington family high and dry without a nanny after sticking it out for only thirty-six hours. But Finn’s weak character wasn’t Margot’s primary concern.
She said, “Where the fuck have you two been? You missed the rehearsal!”
Nick put a hand up. “Marge,” he said. “Don’t be like this.”
“Be like what?” Margot said, although she knew he meant shrill, strident, bitchy. She hated that she had been left to play the heavy. As the older sister, she had always played this role—babysitter, taskmaster, disciplinarian. She never got to be the goof-off or the princess. “It’s six thirty! The rehearsal started at five! We were all at the church waiting for you!”
“We got left at the beach without a car,” Nick said.
“You could have called a cab!” Margot said. “You could have taken the shuttle!”
“I ran into a buddy of mine,” Nick said. He grinned. “Do you remember Tucker? Because he remembers you.”
Margot glowered. She didn’t care about anyone named Tucker. He was probably one of the asinine idiots who used to toss her into the ocean with her clothes on at the beach parties out at Dionis.
“Tucker said he’d give us a ride,” Nick said. “But he wanted to stop for a beer at the brewery first.”
Of course, Margot thought.
“And as we were leaving the brewery, Tucker got a call from his wife, something about their new baby, the wife was freaking out, so Tucker had to boogie home, and he lives out in Sconset. He had to drop us off at the rotary.”
“I really don’t care,” Margot said.
“Finn lost her shoes,” Nick said. “And the sidewalk was hot, so I had to carry her. It was slow going.”
Margot glared at Finn. Lost her shoes?
“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” Finn said. She disappeared out the back screen door.
Nick faced Margot. “I’m sorry, Marge.”
“You suck,” Margot said. “It’s Jenna’s weekend. She and Stuart asked you to stand up for them, and you let them down.”
“It was the rehearsal,” Nick said. “I’ll be there tomorrow. Obviously.”
“And what the hell is going on between you and Finn?”
“Um,” Nick said. “Nothing? She’s just, you know, Finn, our neighbor, Jenna’s best friend, known her forever.”
“She’s married, Nick.”
“I’m aware of that, Marge.”
Margot shook her head. She could see right through him.
“I’m leaving,” she said. “I’ve wasted enough time waiting for you. You two will have to walk.”
“Okay,” Nick said. “Fine.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you think that’s fine. The two of you will have the house all to yourselves.”
“What’s happened to you?” Nick asked. He shook his bush of golden hair and brushed sand from his torso all over the bare wood floors—never mind that 150 guests were coming the next day. “You used to be so cool. Now you’re just… I don’t know what you are, but you’re not like you used to be.”