“I grew up,” Margot said. “I’m an adult.”
Nick studied her for a second. He had gotten a lot of sun; his face was darkly tanned, and his eyes seemed very green. Of the four Carmichael offspring, Nick was the only one with green eyes. Of the four of them, Nick was the free spirit. He had been a clown in school. He had once skipped class to go to the beach in a Volkswagen bus filled with girls; he had once gotten suspended for streaking during a Friday night football game. He had managed to make it through college and law school while closing the bars every weekend and bedding what Margot was certain was hundreds of women.
Their mother had always stepped in when Nick was about to be punished. Margot remembered their mother constantly saying to their father, Douglas, please, don’t clip his wings.
“You grew up,” Nick said. He nodded once, then headed upstairs. “That’s too bad.”
When Margot reached the yacht club, the party was in full swing. The band was playing, and a number of couples were already dancing—Doug’s friends from East Brunswick, the Appelbaums, as well as the Riggses and the Mitchells, who were longtime family friends from Nantucket. Everyone else was still out on the patio, enjoying cocktails as the sun pinkened in the sky.
Margot’s shoulders were tight, and her stomach was making unseemly squelching noises. Edge. She would not drink too much. She would not say anything silly or inappropriate. She would not touch Edge under the table, no matter how much she wanted to. She would be cool, maybe even a little aloof. Her dress was a knockout, she thought—lavender silk, very short, with spaghetti straps, and she had worn the silver heels with silver strings that wrapped around her ankles, strings that Edge had once dangled from his teeth. She wore long silver earrings and a touch of perfume. She looked good, she was the maid of honor, she was an adult, a grown woman. Nick could go to hell. Nick and Finn could go to hell together.
Margot scanned the crowd. She saw her father talking to Everett and Kay Bailey, her mother’s cousins. She saw Kevin and Beanie with Autumn and the two Carolines (called Asian Caroline and Caucasian Caroline behind their backs), who had also gone to the College of William and Mary. She saw Stuart’s brother Ryan with a very handsome black man. He and Asian Caroline added much-needed ethnic diversity to this event. Margot saw a statuesque blond woman in a buttercup yellow dress. She saw Pauline sitting at a table alone, mauling a bowl of cashews. She saw a gaggle of the crunchy-granola womyn whom Jenna taught with at Little Minds—Hilly and Chelsea and Francie. She noticed blandly handsome Wall Street types in good suits, who must have been the men who worked at Morgan Stanley with Stuart. She saw Stuart’s parents with several other couples, definitely southern, judging by the hairstyles and the pantyhose on the women. Margot watched H.W. hand Autumn a shot. A shot during cocktail hour, Margot thought. Really? And it looked like bourbon. Autumn threw it back without hesitation and chased it with a sip of her wine. Stay classy, Autumn, Margot thought. She caught sight of Stuart and Jenna, arm in arm, parting the crowd as they moved through. Jenna looked striking in her peach dress, and Stuart seemed finally to be relaxing. His face had a little bit of color. He was wearing the peach silk tie that Jenna had bought to match her dress.
Margot did not see Edge.
She surveyed the room again, checking every single face. Edge was only about five foot ten, with a head of close-cropped silver-gray hair. He had that Roman nose, lovely hazel eyes, and an elegance—hand-tailored suits, polished Gucci loafers, a Girard-Perregaux watch. His deportment oozed importance and self-confidence. It was incredibly sexy. If he were in the room, Margot would have homed in on him in a matter of seconds.
She checked the time: it was five of seven.
He wasn’t here.
Maybe the texts he’d sent last night were texts saying he wasn’t coming. Edge was a habitual canceler. More than half the time they had plans, something came up: Audrey had the flu, or one of his sons had gotten his car impounded, or a client had been threatened by her soon-to-be-ex-husband, or his most famous client—a legendary rock star—had ended up back in rehab and needed Edge to deal with the custody arrangement for his children. But it had never occurred to Margot that Edge might cancel on Jenna’s wedding.
There was only one person she could ask.
But no, she couldn’t. It would send up a red flag.
But she had to.
Margot threaded her way through the crowd and reached her father just as he was excusing himself from Everett and Kay Bailey. Margot would have liked to talk to Ev and Kay—all her mother’s cousins were fun, good-natured people—but Margot didn’t want to do it right now. She would talk to them tomorrow at the wedding. She waited until Doug and the Baileys parted, then she snatched her father’s arm.