When Georgie declined to ride shotgun, Victoria turned up her nose and said, “Well, as the guest, I suppose I should.”
It was obvious to everyone else that Georgie had declined so Dottie could be up front, so Maisie went ahead and said so. “Dottie’s going to ride up front with Addy. You can sit back here with us bumpkins.”
Which had earned her another sniff. If Victoria kept it up, Maisie was going to ask her if she had a secret drug habit.
Within half an hour, they were riding in a horse-drawn carriage on the Biltmore Estate. Apparently Georgie and Adalia shared an undying affection for Jane Austen, a predilection passed on to them by their mother, and the bachelorette party was, not surprisingly, Pride and Prejudice themed. It was something Maisie would have attempted to tease them for—or Addy at least—except she knew a thing or two about holding on to memories like they were gems. And she couldn’t deny the whole thing had a festive feel, from all of the evergreen trees and holiday lights at the Biltmore to the carriage with the thick blankets and the plaid travel mugs of hot chocolate Addy had prepared. Apparently, there was a small amount of alcohol in Georgie’s, to help her deal with the whole Victoria situation.
“You know, my family has a very close friendship with the Biltmores,” Victoria said grandly as the driver paused the horse-drawn carriage in front of the estate.
“Um, I think you mean the Vanderbilts,” Iris said, glancing up from her phone. Maisie sputtered a laugh.
“I said exactly what I meant,” Victoria said, not backing down.
“Oh, how interesting,” Dottie said. “I had no idea a Biltmore family existed. I’d heard the name of the estate was created by George Vanderbilt. If you have the real scoop, we’d love to hear it, dear.”
Adalia let one peal of laughter escape before she turned it into a coughing fit. Georgie took another swig of her cinnamon schnapps-laced hot chocolate.
One of Victoria’s now-infamous sniffs was followed by, “It’s gauche to talk about it.”
“Yes, let’s not,” Maisie said.
“Oh, I would love to hear more about the Biltmores,” Adalia said through another round of laugh-coughing.
“They’re a very private family,” Victoria said, looking every bit like she knew she’d backed herself into a corner but wouldn’t admit it upon pain of death.
“Yes, and I imagine they wouldn’t like you name-dropping,” Iris said, tucking her phone into her pocket as if the party had finally gotten interesting enough, or dysfunctional enough, to command her attention. “If they were real.”
Victoria muttered something about young people and overactive imaginations, and that was that.
The horses continued along, bringing them past towering trees and sweeping fields. The scene was beautiful, and they settled into some innocuous conversation about Finn and Adalia’s many visits to the Biltmore. They had annual passes and apparently used them often enough that the guards at the front knew them by name. Adalia’s first idea for the bachelorette party had apparently involved everyone wearing nineteenth-century dresses, something Georgie had put the kibosh on. Maisie mouthed thank you to her, and Georgie smiled back at her…which had to be a first.
The highlight of the carriage ride, though, happened when the horse in back started to expel waste as it walked, the earthy smell of it drifting back toward them. Victoria released a scandalized gasp.
“What’s happening?” she asked. “Is it…?”
“See, there are disadvantages to sitting in front,” Maisie said cheerfully.
“We should complain to the manager,” she said, her lips flattening into thin, colorless lines. “There’s a time and a place for everything. This horse should have…evacuated its bowels before we arrived.”
“There are some things that can’t be planned, dear,” Dottie said, giving her a surprisingly intense look. “You’d do well to remember that.”
Something told Maisie she wasn’t just talking about the bathroom habits of draft horses. Victoria had already mentioned, three times—she was counting for Molly—that she would plan her engagement festivities with Lee quite differently. And also that she couldn’t possibly include either Adalia or Georgie in her wedding party since their blond hair clashed with her dark hair. Which was pretty amusing since Maisie had seen Lee on that Thanksgiving FaceTime call, and his hair was as light as his sisters’.
“This hot chocolate is really good,” Georgie said with a hiccup.
The driver let them out in front of the Inn on Biltmore Estate, where Adalia had parked the Range Rover, but they weren’t going anywhere yet. Their next stop was a Pride and Prejudice-inspired tea.
When Adalia had told her what she was planning, Maisie had asked, “Does that mean we get to take turns about the room and whisper behind each other’s backs?”
“I knew you’d at least seen the movie!” had been Adalia’s reply. Maisie hadn’t let on until then—mostly because Adalia loved Pride and Prejudice enough for at least ten adults, and she’d gotten Finn into it too. An addiction like that needed no encouragement.
They disembarked from the carriage, Victoria giving another scowl to the offending horse, who nickered as if sensing evil, and headed into the inn. Once inside, they were ushered into a large drawing room, which really could have been pulled out of a nineteenth-century movie. A large tray sat on the round table in the midst of several uncomfortable-looking couches and chairs.
To Maisie, the sandwiches looked a little bland, the petit fours nowhere near as good as the ones she knew Dottie had carried over in the insanely large bag she had slung over her arm, but Georgie gasped with pleasure.
“This is perfect, Addy.”
Adalia nearly glowed with the compliment. And it was such a nice moment that Maisie felt a little choked up, which was ridiculous, really. It had clearly been too long since she’d seen her sisters. And maybe, just maybe, she was getting into the spirit of things a little. Because seeing Georgie and River together didn’t bother her anymore. She genuinely wanted them both to be happy, and she really, really wanted to be happy too. Maybe she was becoming a sap, because when she thought about being happy now, it was Jack she saw by her side. Stringing Christmas lights on her house with Iris shouting up instructions. Chaco and Einstein watching with wagging tails.
“Well, it’s not tea at the Plaza, but it’s about as good as can be expected, I suppose.” Victoria shot an accusatory glance at the uniformed server, who looked like she wanted to fade into the wallpaper. Instead, she started pouring out cups of tea, handing them around as everyone got settled. Adalia and Georgie sat on one of the two-person loveseats, Iris and Dottie on another, leaving Maisie to take one for the team and sit with Victoria.
Victoria squirmed beside her, letting out an aggrieved sigh as she tried to get comfortable on the admittedly uncomfortable piece of furniture.
Maisie had half a mind to ask her if the stick up her butt was chafing, but instead she took the tea she was given and took a hearty sip.
“Do you need anything else?” the server asked, posing the question to Georgie.
“Coffee,” Victoria said. “Three Splendas, no milk.”
Of course she was asking for coffee at a Victorian tea. But the server was so eager to get out of there she eagerly took the excuse.
“I’m watching my figure,” Victoria announced as Dottie pulled out one of her ever-present pieces of Tupperware and started adding delectable-looking treats to the serving tray.
“That’s wise,” Maisie said, serving herself a heaping plate of Dottie goodies, although she knew better than to take any of the red cakes. They were hot enough to get a five-chili-pepper rating at a Thai restaurant. “You’ll want to fit into that wedding dress you’ve probably already ordered.”
God help Lee Buchanan. This woman was a nightmare. Then again, Maisie maintained that it didn’t speak well of him that he’d chosen her and stuck by her side. She was sorry for that—Adalia and Georgie clearly cared about their brother, and from
a few comments Jack had made, she knew he was hoping to get to know him better. But she couldn’t help feeling a little offended on Jack’s behalf. His brother had made zero effort to get to know him.
Victoria gave Maisie’s full plate a disapproving look as she selected a single cucumber sandwich and a piece of celery, something that looked like it had been intended as garnish. “Three of them, actually. I’m not ready to make up my mind.”
Adalia laughed, not attempting to disguise her humor this time. “Are you waiting until he proposes to make up your mind?”
Georgie nudged her a little, a concerned look on her face. She was a peacemaker, and she clearly worried about offending Victoria for fear of alienating Lee. Which, fine. It hardly mattered if Maisie offended Lee.
“I get it,” Georgie offered. “I still haven’t chosen a dress, and I’ve dragged poor Adalia out to six different stores.”
“I don’t mind,” Adalia said with a grin. “They give us free champagne.”
“Only six?” Victoria said, aghast. “And you’re trying to find a dress in this town? Oh no. You should get your father to send you to New York to take a real shopping trip.”
She said it like Georgie was a little girl who needed a big, strong man to buy her something shiny. Good lord.
“She built and sold one company, and now she’s running another,” Maisie snapped. “I doubt she needs her father to buy her anything, let alone supervise her on a shopping trip.”
Georgie’s eyes flew wide. She clearly hadn’t expected Maisie for stand up to her…and honestly, neither had Maisie. But she wasn’t about to let Victoria ruin everything.
Iris started coughing suddenly, her face red, and Dottie patted her on the back. “There, there, dear, you got one of the red ones.”
“Why…didn’t…anyone…warn me?” she choked out.
“They’re good for the constitution! They flush out all the bad energy. Everyone should have one.” She glanced around the room, looking for another taker. Her gaze lingered on Victoria. “You could especially use one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Victoria said, setting her plate down with a clink.
But the server arrived with her coffee just then. As she took it, she raised a brow and asked, “Three Splendas?”
“Yes, of course. Just the way you requested it.”
Victoria frowned in a way that somehow failed to wrinkle her forehead. Wasn’t she too young for Botox? Then again, Molly had interviewed a dermatologist who’d said women were coming in for treatments younger and younger. “Where’s the milk?”
“Um, didn’t you say you didn’t care for milk?” the server asked hesitantly.
“Not in the coffee, but it should be served alongside it.” She lifted a hand as if at wit’s end. “Honestly.”
“There’s milk on the table,” Iris said slowly.
“The milk for coffee and tea should be separate!”
It was such an insane statement that no one commented on it or asked her why. The server took off quickly, probably accustomed to dealing with the occasional irrational customer.
“Now, when each of you finish your tea, bring your cups to me,” Dottie said expectantly.
“I realize we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Victoria said, “but surely the waitstaff collects the soiled dishes.”
“She’s going to read the tea leaves,” Adalia said.
“Read them? What on earth does that mean?”
And Maisie, who’d never particularly taken with palm reading or psychics, especially given that the one reading she’d gotten had been so spectacularly bad, found herself in the position of defending Dottie’s readings.
“Reading the future. Don’t you want to know when you’ll be getting engaged?”
“Oh,” Victoria said, perking up. “And would you still know if I pour the tea into a different container, or do I need to actually drink it?”
“You need to drink it,” Dottie said. “And really, you should anyway. It has chamomile in it. A very calming blend.”
Adalia laughed a little at that, and Iris perked up from her phone, which she’d been bent over once again.
Who was she talking to, anyway? One of her friends? Or was she maybe texting with Jack? The thought was alluring, and she pulled out her own phone.
He’d clearly been thinking of her too, because there was a text from him.
Is it six yet?
At six, she would be defecting from the bachelorette party to join the guys for the brewery and bites tour she’d arranged with Finn.
She was about to type out a reply when Georgie announced, “I need to use the restroom.”
“Really, Georgie, there’s no need to tell everyone,” Victoria said, shaking her head slightly. “There’s a time and a place for such things.”
“Just ask the horse,” Adalia muttered, and Iris burst out laughing.
Cheeks slightly flushed, Georgie turned to Maisie. “Will you come with me?”
Maisie wouldn’t have been more surprised if Victoria had started dancing on one of the tables. Why did Georgie want to talk to her? And alone, at that. But she was the bride, after all, and she could hardly say no.
“Um, sure,” she said, pocketing her phone. “Just don’t ask me to hold your dress while you pee. From what I’ve heard, that’s only necessary for wedding dresses. Victoria knows what I’m talking about. She has three of them.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jack was starting to wish he’d faked the flu. It wasn’t like he needed to be at River’s bachelor party. While he and River were getting along better than they had before Jack moved to Asheville, they were by no means friends. Jack knew the only reason he’d been invited to participate in the wedding, let alone the bachelor party, was because he was Georgie’s half-brother. While he could hardly get out of the wedding or the engagement party, considering he’d helped plan it, he’d seriously considered declining to participate in this afternoon’s festivities. He’d gotten friendlier with Finn, but the thought of spending all afternoon and evening with River and Lee sounded exhausting, maybe even excruciating, but he didn’t want to hurt his sisters’ feelings.
Okay, that wasn’t the only reason. He was also there to see the woman who’d helped plan it…the woman who wouldn’t show up for several more hours. He’d considered begging off the movie portion and just showing up for the brewery tour, but it was the kind of rude, self-serving thing his mother would have done. And he never, ever wanted to be like her.
He told himself he was getting worked up over nothing, that the afternoon and evening would go just fine—he was fairly sure Prescott wouldn’t be around—but his stomach still churned with anxiety. And it wasn’t because of River.
Why did he care about what Lee thought of him? Jack had lived thirty years without an older brother and had done just fine. He didn’t need Lee’s approval or acceptance. But somehow it still mattered. Back in high school, he’d look at those pictures of the Buchanans and think about what it would be like to have a big brother, someone to help show him the way. Because his grandmother was already gone, and he was caring for his little sister, and dammit, at times he’d wanted the guidance of someone older. Now, of course, he realized how ludicrous that was—Lee was only slightly older than him, and he’d led a charmed life. He wouldn’t have had any special insights into Jack’s problems. Nor, in all likelihood, would he have cared.
Jack showed up at Finn’s house a few minutes late with Tyrion in tow. He’d hoped Lee would already be there, but River was the first and only other guest.
Jack unfastened the leash, and Tyrion bolted for Finn, who bent over to rub his head, then took off for a water bowl by the back door, his eager lapping and splashing sounds filling the room. It was obvious the husky was used to spending time here.
“Jack, I’m glad you could make it,” River said, but it sounded half-hearted and his gaze drifted over Jack’s shoulder toward the street.
“Don’t take it personally,” Fin
n said in a low voice as he led Jack into the kitchen. “He’s nervous about seeing Lee again. The two didn’t make a good impression on each other at the will reading, and they haven’t exactly hit it off over video chats since.”
“Yeah,” Jack said, “I know the feeling.”
Finn grimaced as he stopped in front of a metal bucket on the counter. “I guess you do. I forgot you were there too.” He gestured to the bucket, which was full of ice and bottles of beer. “Help yourself. There are some Big Catch bottles in there if you’re interested in checking out the competition.”
Jack pulled out a Big Catch IPA as he shot a look at River, who had shut the door and returned to the couch. “I thought some of River’s other friends were coming.”
“They’re coming tonight,” Finn said. “To the brewery tour. We’ll meet them at the first stop.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the air. River was staring at a blank TV screen, but his expression was fraught because of his nerves. Jack got it; he felt like River looked.
“So what movie are we watching?” he called out.
It seemed to take River a couple of seconds to register that the comment was directed toward him. “Uh…The Big Lebowski.”
“Ah,” Jack said with a nod. “A classic.”
Finn released a short laugh. “‘Yeah, well, you know…that’s just, like, your opinion, man.’”
Something about Finn’s response seemed familiar, and then it hit him and he grinned. “A movie quote. Nice one.”
Finn tipped his head to the side. “Something I picked up from your sister.” Then he added, “Addy.”
Jack laughed. “I figured. Doesn’t seem like a Georgie thing.”
He shot another look at River, who looked like a statue of some prey about to be devoured by a monster.
The doorbell rang, and Tyrion rushed over to Jack and began to howl.
Getting Lucky (Asheville Brewing Book 3) Page 21
