“Such a strange girl - doesn’t seem to be with one of the old
families,” they sniffed. “Must have come for a summer job. Anyway, how’s your
father doing? We haven’t seen much of him this year, he must be busy on one of
his deals...”
Truth was, Porter had no idea how his father was. Or where he was.
He assumed Julian was back in Manhattan, wheeling and dealing as usual, secure
in the assumption that Porter would do as he was told at the end of the summer.
Meanwhile, Porter had been slowly working through the books of Biltmore
accounts in the study, and was truly staggered by the number of sea exploration
deals in them. JBB had never mentioned an interest in the ocean; if anything,
he’d avoided it since his wife had been killed in his favorite boat. Porter
remembered the Siren well; he had been learning to sail it himself when the
accident happened. All he remembered of it now was his mother’s voice yelling
from it as the hull splintered on the rocks. Porter squeezed his eyes tightly
to remove the image.
Porter bounded to the bay windows and scanned the view. He’d been
hoping to see Everly on the beach since the night of the clambake, but she
hadn’t returned. Probably avoiding him, he thought crossly. He kept dreaming
about seeing her at sunset, taking her hand and leading her down the beach,
running his fingers through that long wavy hair...
Skylar had warned him away from the library since the last time.
She said she’d visit a couple of times before the party, warm up Everly a bit
more. But she’d been maddeningly reticent with details - she said that Everly
had read almost everything in the library and seemed to know every subject
under the sun. Everly had told her that she should study politics in college,
said Skylar. She’d told her that she could be an excellent political advisor.
Well, ruminated Porter, that was definitely true. But where Everly was from,
where she was living, how she’d ended up in the Hamptons - all still mysteries.
As was whether Everly asked Skylar about him. Skylar just laughed and refused
to answer. Maddening.
Porter sighed and turned back to the Biltmore books. At least the
white party was tomorrow.
* * * * *
Who came up with the concept of a white party? Which
uber-pretentious fancy people decided that it would be a good idea to hold a
party - with drinks and food - that required everyone to wear white and
therefore avoid most drinks and food? Fancy people who didn’t eat and only
drank champagne, Porter acknowledged. He stood on the marble steps of his
aunt’s deck in light beige trousers and a white linen shirt, the first two
buttons undone to combat the humidity. From his vantage point, he could see the
entire garden; glass-covered pool with a string quartet warming up on one side
and the stretch of white Chadbourne beach beyond a row of trees.
Raised voices from inside the house caught Porter's attention.
“Skylar, you can't possibly wear that! You're just being contrary!”
Skylar emerged from the French doors, wearing a fitted light blue
dress and gold sandals. “Mother. I hate white. I hate wearing white. I'm hungry
and Lord knows no one else is going to eat the hors d'oeuvres you've ordered,
and I can’t eat anything if I’m wearing white.”
Aunt Jana followed her, her coiffed blonde bob set off by her
floaty cream sundress. “Skylar, this is a WHITE party!”
Skylar turned on her heel. “Oh, trust me, I know. Wearing white
isn't going to make me any closer to white!”
Aunt Jana’s mouth opened and closed, and Porter felt suddenly
sorry for her. For all her superficiality, Aunt Jana usually meant well. Skylar
knew she'd gone a bit too far, as well.
“Look, I'm sorry. But please just let me wear this. I honestly get
nervous about ruining white clothes. And this dress looks good, right?"
Aunt Jana looked hesitant, but could never match Skylar in an
argument. “Honey, I just...”
“Great, thanks, Mom.” Skylar turned her attention to Porter. “Why
are you here so early? We're not even set up yet.”
Porter avoided her eyes. “I wanted to see if you needed any help,”
he muttered. “Aunt J?”
Jana smiled confusedly. “Porter, I think we're all set. Why don't
you just relax - I'm sure people will start arriving shortly and I need to
finish getting ready.” She disappeared in a cloud of Chanel No. 5.
Skylar snorted. “As if there’s more to add? All she needs is a
tiara.”
Porter smiled in spite of himself. “Sky. She means well.”
Skylar
rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. Mom’s basically a sweet person. But she
drives me crazy sometimes...you know I wanted to volunteer as a tutor in Harlem
this summer and she refused to sign the forms? She said Harlem was too
dangerous. She has no idea how much it’s changed, probably because she’s never
been there in her life!"
Porter interrupted. “Look, I’ll help you volunteer at a soup kitchen
in Compton if you want. But tell me what’s going on. Is she coming?”
“Who?” Skylar batted her eyelashes.
“Yup, I just got back, Port!” Porter and Skylar whirled around,
and Porter’s heart sank into his shoes. Alex, tanned and trim in a white sheath
dress and sandals, cardigan artfully arranged around her shoulders, was
standing at the top of the steps with one hand on a massive pillar and the
other stylishly posed on her waist. She paused for dramatic effect, then
tripped lightly towards them. “Skylar, good to see you,” she said drily,
kissing the space on either side of Skylar’s head. It was all Skylar could do
not to grab Alex’s face and plant a big wet one on her cheek, just to see what
would happen.
“Porter,” Alex purred. “I missed you, sweetie. I wish you’d come
with us! We’d had such an amazing time in Provence. But I hear you’ve been busy
working for your dad, so I suppose I can forgive you...” She turned up
her face for a kiss, which Porter brushed lightly on top of her head.
“Not really working for my dad. But getting more involved with the
Fund, yeah. And catching up on my reading. It’s, uh, nice to see you back,
Alex.” Porter moved abruptly away. “Can I get you both some drinks?"
Without waiting for an answer, he made his way down the steps and
headed to the liveried waiter on the other side of the pool, ignoring the one
ten feet away. Alex! He’d completely, utterly forgotten that she’d be back for
the party. And would be expecting to reclaim her tenuous position as Porter
Biltmore’s girlfriend...despite the fact that they hadn’t talked in weeks.
Porter groaned, startling the waiter who shot him a nervous look. “Sorry,
man...it’s just going to be a long evening.”
The waiter grinned. “You’re telling me. You don’t have to try to
balance champagne coupes all night. Why not flutes, I ask you?"
“Uhh...” Unprepared for that confidence, Porter grabbed two
glasses of punch and slowly began making his way around the long end of the
pool. The party was starting to fill up - Aunt Jana and Uncle Hal’s friends,
all of whom owned houses here. Senator Barclay, Julian’s good friend who didn’t
live here (government salaries couldn’t buy Hamptons properties), but spent an
awful lot of time at Hamptons parties during the summer. And his awful wife who
carried her poodle everywhere with her. Skylar and Alex were still standing at
the top of the steps with Lindsay Lattimore and Hunter, who from the looks of
it, was basically drooling on Lindsay’s hair.
Porter stubbed the toe of his loafer suddenly on a flagstone, and
sloshed one of the punches over his hand. “Dammit,” he swore, looking for a
place to set down the empty glass and grab a napkin. He could see the waiter’s
argument - the blasted coupes spilled drinks much more easily.
“I hope that one wasn’t for me.”
The soft musical voice was unmistakable, and Porter almost dropped
the other glass in his rush to find her. Standing shyly in the corner of the
lawn, against the backdrop of trees and flowers, was Everly. Porter paused for
a moment to regain his wits. She was wearing a shimmery lavender dress that accentuated
her slim waist and startling green eyes, and her mouth had the traces of a
smile. Around her neck was the long gold chain. She looked almost
old-fashioned, but easily outshone every other woman at the party. The only
false note, to Porter, was her hair, which had been tied softly back with a
ribbon. Porter wanted to reach over and let the long dark curls loose in the
sea breeze. He restrained himself with an effort.
“So, you made it.” ‘Real smooth, Biltmore.’
“Skylar was so sweet, insisting that she wanted me to come. I hope
I’m not intruding, though...everyone here seems to know each other. And,”
Everly bit her lip, “I’m afraid I didn’t think properly, didn’t realize that
‘white party’ meant...”
“It doesn’t matter,” cut in Porter. “You look beautiful. And
Skylar will be thrilled to have some company,” gesturing to Skylar’s blue dress
in the distance.
Everly smiled, and Porter caught his breath as her face lit up.
“I’m afraid I can’t stay too long,” she said, scanning the sky behind him. “But
I wanted to come and see you...both. And perhaps meet your friends.”
Porter wasn’t about to share her that quickly. “Where do you have
to go later? I’m happy to give you a ride. I don’t want to stay very long
either."
Everly gazed at him searchingly. “Porter...there are things about
me that I can’t tell you. I know I’ve frustrated you, but I’m not trying to.
Please understand.”
Porter didn’t want to argue with her - just then, at least - so he
swallowed his annoyance with effort. “Tell me what you can. We just want to get
to know you better...and be friends.”
“Well,” Everly paused, “as you can see, I have more than one
dress.” She watched in amusement as Porter’s ears turned purple. “And I see
that you have more than one outfit as well. Probably useful here in the
Hamptons. It wouldn’t do to come to all of the parties in the same clothes.”
Porter smiled at her. “I told you I was sorry about that stupid
comment. You always look amazing, and I was frustrated.”
Everly looked down at her delicate slippers. “Do you get
frustrated often?”
Porter sighed. “I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I do.”
Everly looked at him squarely. “Can I ask why? You seem to be
popular, good-looking...smart, judging by all of those books you’ve been
reading. And Skylar tells me that your family is very wealthy.”
Such a bald evaluation of himself from anyone else would have
enraged Porter, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the simplicity with which
Everly put him in his place.
“You’re not wrong. I just finished high school at a pretty elite
place, and I’ve got my pick of colleges. I guess I’ve always been unsure of how
much of what I have is because of my last name and my father’s reputation, and
how much was my own effort. Friends, schools, everything. But Skylar tells me
that you’re just about the smartest person she’s ever met, so apparently I have
competition.”
Everly shook her head. “Skylar is brilliant - I’m just trying to
help her find a way to channel all of her energy. I read a lot, so I’ve been
dreaming up different roles for her...career. I really enjoy her company.”
Porter never thought he’d be jealous of Skylar. Good lord.
“What about your mother? You mentioned your father - he must be a
very important person. What does your mother do?”
It was Porter’s turn to scan the skies. “My mother died ten years
ago. I miss her every day - I don’t know everything about her, but I know she
thought all of this pretention,” gesturing behind him to the champagne-swilling
masses, “was comical. It was a boat accident at sea, a storm came up suddenly.
We never found her body.” He watched Everly’s face tighten, and hurried to
change the subject. The topic was too heavy.
“What year are you in school?”
Everly paused for a long moment and examined her long fingers.
“I’ve...finished school. Where I come from, school is very rigorous and we
don’t often go to college.”
Porter looked down at her, surprised. “But...” But something in
her manner forbade further questioning. Daughter of spies? Foreign royalty?
Illegal immigrant? Arranged marriage? The latter thought pricked Porter’s mind,
and he pushed it away. “Can I just ask you one more question?”
She nodded, fixing her cool gaze on him once again.
“Did you just say you thought I was handsome?"
Everly laughed out loud, and the bells in her voice dazzled
Porter. “I think I said you seemed to be good-looking,” she teased, her
own face flushing. “I’m not sure I gave you my own conclusion.”
Porter grinned widely. “You know what I think? I think you like
me, despite my terrible manners and taste in reading.”
Everly turned, her face partially hidden. “Oh, do you? And what do
you think of me, given that you know so little about me?"
“I think...” Porter stepped in front of her so that she couldn’t
look away. “I think you’re fascinating, I think you’re beautiful, and I’m not
going to rest until I know everything about you. I’m pretty sure of one thing
already - that you’re infinitely smarter than I am.”
“Who’s your friend, Porter?” The iciness was too familiar. Porter
looked over his shoulder to see Alex striding across the pool towards him, with
Skylar close behind her, making crazy hands in Alex’s direction. The crowd
seemed to quiet, and Porter unconsciously stepped in front of Everly.
Alex stopped inches from him. “I asked you a question. You
disappeared half an hour ago to get me a drink, and now here you are. So,” she
pulled him aside and confronted Everly. “Who are you?”
Everly seemed unperturbed. “My name is Everly,” she said, holding
out her hand politely. “And you are...? You have a lovely dress.”
Her manners seemed to further infuriate Alex, who had now drawn a
small crowd around them. Hunter appeared alternately enraged and intrigued.
Lindsay Lattimore seemed mildly uncomfortable, standing nearby and watching
Everly, and Porter nearly laughed when he realized that Lindsay looked
unmistakably insecure.
Alex ignored the proffered hand. “I’m Alex Carragher, Porter’s girlfriend.
I didn’t know he was out meeting such interesting new people while I was gone.”
Porter bristled. “Alex, you’re being rude. Skylar and I invited
Everly to this party as our guest. She’s new to the Hamptons, and I wanted her
to meet some of our friends.”
“Right, Porter,” shot back Alex. “I’m sure that’s what you
wanted.”
Skylar
piped up. “Alex, this is my house, and I’d appreciate - and I bet my mom would
appreciate - if you didn’t cause a scene.”
Alex
looked Everly up and down with disdain. “She’s not even wearing white. What is
that, secondhand?”
Porter opened his mouth to defend Everly, but Everly put a hand on
his arm and the electricity from her touch silenced him immediately. “Alex, I
can see that you’re upset, but I didn't cause it. I met Porter and Skylar very
recently and they have been trying to welcome me to the Hamptons, for which I was
grateful. I don't generally participate in unnecessary arguments, so I’d
appreciate it if you’d excuse me.” Everly stepped gracefully away from Alex’s
quivering face. “And,” she added gently, “I think all of the ladies here have
made an effort to wear nice dresses, so you shouldn’t be derogatory.”
Following this astounding speech, Everly turned, pressed Skylar’s
hand, and disappeared behind the row of trees. Alex grabbed Porter’s arm and
dragged him away from the crowd.
“Who the hell is that??” she hissed at him. “And how dare she talk
to me like that? You stood there and let her...”
“What, Alex? I let her be extremely honest in the most polite way
possible in response to your hysteria?” Porter dropped his voice. “Look. You
and me haven’t worked in a long time, and you know it. We barely talk except
for you telling me what society party I’m supposed to escort you to next. So
please, Alex, don’t act like you own me.”
Alex looked like she’d been slapped. “Porter Biltmore...are you
breaking up with me?”
Porter almost felt sorry for her. He should have had this
conversation with her a long time ago. “Alex, I’m sorry. I think you’ll be
happier with someone else. Take care.”
And with that, he strode quickly past the inquiring faces, the
glittering dresses, and the crystal glinting in the setting sunlight, and made
his way behind the trees.
The party was muffled from here, as the tide crashed on the white
sand. He scanned the beach and spotted a lavender figure in the distance.
“Everly!”
The figure froze, as if thinking, then turned around slowly.
Porter panted as he jogged to catch up with her.
“Everly, look - I’m so sorry about that. Alex and I haven’t gone
out in a long time, it’s just taken her a while to realize that we’re not
together anymore. I know how it must look, but I’m not--”
“Like that,” finished Everly quietly. “I know. I think you were
caught in a difficult situation and that she tried to publicly shame you into
taking her side. That said, I hope you have a talk with her, because she seemed
genuinely upset underneath the insults, and she deserves honesty from you.”
Porter
shook his head. “How do you do that? How do you assess everyone so coolly
without losing your temper or feeling insulted?”
Everly replied softly. “I’ve spent a long time studying...people.
Of all kinds. In my life, it’s very important to understand different
personalities, different motivations, and how to tell real feelings from...what
did you call them? Pretentions."
Porter took her wrist in his hand. “Well, I can tell that you
don’t need saving. Although if you ever do, I’d like to be the one to do it.”
‘Get a grip, Porter. It’s like you’ve never spoken to a girl
before in your life,’ flashed across his mind.
Everly’s smile eclipsed the sunset behind her, and she grasped his
hand lightly. “I really must go. No, I don’t need a ride,” she hurried on as he
opened his mouth. “You go back to the party, and I’ll walk. Please, I’d like
to.”
Her tone was light, but would brook no argument. Yet Porter held
onto her hand. “But I’ll see you again soon?”
She blushed slightly. “Well, with all of your reading, I’m sure
you’ll be back at the library soon.” Turning him around, she gave him a playful
push. “Now go! Try to make sure that the party’s not spoiled.”
Porter turned reluctantly and started making his way back to the
Chadbourne beach. He looked over his shoulder once, at Everly standing where he
had left her. She raised her hand once in a wave, and he fought the urge to go
back to her side.
Everly waited until Porter had disappeared past the trees, and
sighed. She felt drawn to Porter in a way she hadn’t anticipated, and it was
going to make her work much harder. Could he be trusted with her secret? With
the knowledge that there could be nothing between them? Or would it be better
to disappear entirely from his life? She knew what her mother would say, what
Rogan and Aratis would warn.
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