Fallon beams, taking pride I’m actually showing initiative and not fighting against this birthday extravaganza. I smile back because if I just removed a stressor from her, I feel like I’ve done my duty as a sister.
CHAPTER 23
Finley
I wonder what our birthday would look like if Fallon weren’t with Blain. Maybe the two of us would have gone out to dinner—sushi is our joint favorite—and probably splurged on cupcakes after. I’d buy her a book, something that was meaningful to her. She’d buy me a piece of jewelry, and it would be something simple because she knows that’s my style. Maybe some small hoop earrings or a thin bracelet that wouldn’t get in the way of things.
As it stands, turning twenty-eight is apparently a big deal, and I suspect more so to Blain than Fallon and me, as this is his chance to shine as a big-shot lawyer with lots of money and important friends.
He spared no expense except for deciding to have the party at their condo versus a venue. Still, it was big enough to handle the roughly one hundred guests he invited, knowing that only about seventy-five percent would show up. I’m sure this was calculated for him to show off his beautiful home in The Sapphire for those who haven’t seen it yet.
The food is top-notch—mini Beef Wellingtons, fresh oysters on the half shell, Dungeness crab, shrimp, and a variety of other little canapes to nibble on. They set up a full-service bar on the outdoor patio that looks out over the Sound and only stocked with top-shelf liquor. Waiters bustle about clearing plates, bringing drinks, and, in general, catering to Blain’s wealthy friends. I knew none of them, except for his parents, who once again acted as if it were the first time meeting me.
But at least I had my posse tonight. Fallon asked who I wanted to invite, and the list was short but genuinely important to me. It consisted of four names—Rainey, Myles, Adira, and Rich.
Rich, unfortunately, couldn’t make it as he was in Portland visiting his son, but promised to take me out for a fat juicy steak dinner when he returned.
Adira, Myles, and Rainey were all in, though, enjoying the chance to dress up for a formal event. Rainey did hair and makeup for Adira and me, and loaned Adira a beautiful lavender cocktail dress. Myles pulled out a suit he rarely wore, but he cut a dashing figure. Rainey went elegant sexpot with a long, slinky gown in hot pink with the cleavage cut practically down to her navel. And I… I wore the dress Carrick had bought and said I could keep.
I’ll admit it to no one—even upon pain of death—but it makes me feel like a bit of a princess, and I don’t miss my comfy Chucks once all evening.
When we arrived—all four of us having piled into Rainey’s car to make the trip into downtown—we did the obligatory checking in with Fallon and Blain, meeting his vague-eyed parents—again—and then we hit the catered stations of food. I was starved, having worked at One Bean from six AM until roughly four PM where I left early for home to get ready for the party. It was a ten-hour day for me, and I had a cheese danish around one PM as far as I could remember.
After eating, we got drinks, and since Rainey was our designated driver and insisted I blow it out on my birthday, I went in for a pomegranate martini. It’s not my drink of choice, but it seemed to match the sophistication of the event.
My group—my closest friends—huddled together for most of the night, having nothing in common with most of the wealthy and elite circle of Blain’s friends. From time to time, Rainey would wander off if she saw an exceptionally handsome man who looked single, and she’d strike up a conversation. While Rainey would be perfectly happy landing a wealthy husband, she has very picky standards. He clearly has to be hot and loaded, but she also cannot stand vanity, self-inflated egos, or a man who only wants to talk about himself.
On this most recent trip back to us, she shakes her head and mutters, “All of Blain’s friends are assholes.”
“Well, birds of a feather,” I quip, and we all laugh. I look down at my watch—a silver Timex my dad got me for my fourteenth birthday—and while it’s cheap and worn, it’s the only watch I own and will ever wear. It’s a quarter after eight, and I’m wondering when we can get to the cake-cutting part because then it probably wouldn’t be rude to leave after.
Myles elbows me in the side of my arm. It’s a good thing my martini glass is empty as it would have sloshed onto my pretty dress. When I give him my attention, he merely nods over my shoulder. “Did you know Carrick Byrne was here?”