Sophie laughed affectionately. Olivia had always been the social butterfly of every room she entered. She’d made friends effortlessly and won hearts with almost as little trouble. She was charming and interesting, and generally, people forgave her everything.
A waiter appeared the moment they sat down. “Good afternoon,” he greeted in slightly accented English. “Welcome to Farfalla. Have you been here before?”
No, but my husband has, Sophie swallowed the pithy remark and shook her head instead.
Olivia eyed her sister, and the worry that something was wrong was like a bullet in her chest. “We’d like to start a tab. And to be interrupted as little as possible.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a card but Sophie shook her head.
“You’ve come all this way. Allow me.” She hadn’t yet used one of the credit cards Alex had given her. She slipped one from her wallet and handed it over, a little self-conscious when she realised it was one of those ridiculous Centurion Amex cards.
The waiter took it, examined it, and handed it back. “That will not be necessary, Mrs Petrides. Mr Petrides maintains an account here. Are you celebrating? Would you like some champagne?”
Sophie’s cheeks were pink. She nodded helplessly and the waiter disappeared without pausing to confirm which label they’d prefer. When he returned, it was with the aid of another waiter, who ostentatiously held two champagne saucers while the first waiter peeled the top off the bottle. He popped it into a white-gloved hand and then handed the cork to Sophie. “It is to be kept. For luck and good memories.”
“Oh.” She slipped it into her bag with, perhaps, far less ceremony than was due, and then watched as the original waiter poured the champagne into first one glass and then the next.
“I shall keep the bottle in the fridge.”
“Leave the bottle,” Liv corrected. “We don’t want to be interrupted unless our bottle is empty. Thank you.”
Sophie shot her sister a warning glance, but the twitching of her lips spoiled the effect somewhat.
“What is this champagne?” Sophie whispered, once they’d left.
“Expensive, is what it is. At least two thousand dollars, I’d say.”
Sophie spat out the bubbles she’d been sipping and clasped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God! Livvie! You’re not serious?”
Olivia shrugged. “A man bought one for me once, and that’s what he said. It was the same label. I remember, because I’d never heard of it before that.”
“Oh, Liv. We can’t drink this.”
Olivia’s smile was deliciously cheeky. “Nonsense. It’s been opened. Besides, they brought it over so naturally that one can only presume it’s what your husbands makes a habit of drinking.”
Sophie nodded. Olivia had a point. And again, she contemplated the unlikeliness of Alex drinking a bottle such as this on his own. No. It was what he shared with dates. Before he shared anything else with them. Like his home. And his body.
She flickered her gaze down to the table in a gesture designed to shield her thoughts from her sister, but Olivia knew Sophie far too well for that.
“How’s married life?” She queried with an intentionally bland tone to her voice.
Sophie nodded. “It’s good.” She smiled anxiously. “It’s just … an adjustment.”
Olivia nodded. That could be it. “In what way?” She prompted, sipping her champagne and eyeing her sister over the rim of the glass.
“You saw what just happened right?” She shook her head slowly. “I’ve gone from barely making ends meet on a dreadful salary in London to being brought two thousand dollar bottles of champagne and being told my Goddamned Amex card isn’t required here, at what my driver tells me is the most expensive bar in town.” She rolled her eyes. “You know how weird this is.”
Liv grinned. “I think I could get used to it pretty quickly.”
Sophie burst out laughing. “Yeah, you probably could.” She sobered. “You wait until you see his house. It’s like this stunning, architectural, perfect palace. And when I say perfect, I mean … magazine perfect. Like Vogue Living ready all the time. It’s … just … so much.”
“But honey, you knew when you married him that he had this kind of money. What’s the problem?”
“It’s not a problem,” she demurred quickly. “I love Alex.” And she really, really did. No matter what was going on between them, she had every faith it would be a temporary concern. “It’s just … I fell in love with him when I didn’t really have any concept of just how …”
“Nonsense! Everyone knows how wealthy Alessandros Petrides is.”
“Yes, yes. But you read a number in an article and that’s very different to living it. Look at my engagement ring.”
“I did, believe me,” Olivia teased.