Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 123435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Cassie purses her lips, thinking it over. “Only if it’s after the Beacon’s reopening.”
“You’re stalling,” I tease.
“No, just being practical. Any conversation with my mother creates the potential for sheer and utter catastrophe, and I still have to live with her for the next week.”
“Fair. Then we’ll schedule our respective conversations for the day after the reopening.” I lift a brow. “Deal?”
She shakes my hand. “Deal.”
My chest feels surprisingly light at the notion of telling my father I’m going to accept Gil’s offer. Or maybe that feeling of ease has more to do with the other confession I plan to make.
Because after I tell Dad about the trip, I’m going to tell Cassie I’m in love with her.
CHAPTER 30
CASSIE
Last time I was in this ballroom, it was a year after the hurricane and my grandparents were giving me a walk-through of the damage. By then, the sea had done its worst, leaving behind a gaping space that could’ve doubled as the setting of a ghost ship in a horror movie. Everything needed to be ripped out. The drywall, the flooring. Gutted right to the studs.
Now, after all of Mackenzie’s hard work, the ballroom has been completely restored. The old wallpaper and gilded wall ornaments are gone, replaced by cream paint and white panels with intricate detailing. Brand-new hardwood flooring gleams beneath our feet. The most impressive change, however, is the ceiling. It still soars impossibly high, only now there are skylights, glass panels that open up the room and provide a dazzling view of the inky sky streaked with a dusting of stars.
On the stage, a ten-piece jazz band performs an up-tempo number that makes me feel like I’ve stepped into another time. Everything about this ballroom feels both modern and vintage at the same time, and I watch Grandma’s face as she takes it all in.
“Incredible,” she says under her breath, and I see the relief in Mackenzie’s green eyes.
“You did an amazing job,” I tell Mac.
“It was a team effort.” She links her arm with Cooper, who looks gorgeous in his tux. With his tattoos covered and his face clean-shaven, he resembles a preppy boy from Garnet College. I would never tell him that, though. I feel like it would ruin his entire night.
Mac introduces my grandmother to Cooper. As Grandma shakes his hand, she’s still gazing around the room, marveling over it. Her attention lands on the chandelier. “Is that the same—”
“No, it’s a replica,” Mac cuts in. Her smile is hopeful. “It looks the same, though, right? I asked the designer to copy it from a photograph.”
“It’s breathtaking,” Grandma assures her. “All of it.”
The two of them wander off, Mac pointing out other updates to the ballroom. Meanwhile, I notice several familiar faces entering through the arched doorway. It’s only eight o’clock, so people are still trickling in. The hotel itself isn’t open for business until tomorrow morning, when guests from near and far will be checking in at the newly christened Beacon Hotel. Mackenzie says they’re booked to capacity, and Genevieve has been stressing about it all week, grumbling about how she’d been promised a soft opening. I guess Mac’s original plan was to only book half capacity for opening weekend, just to “dip her toe in,” but Cooper talked her out of it, convincing her to make a big splash instead.
“Cass!” My cousin Liv breaks away from the crowd and hurries over to hug me.
“Hey! You look incredible.”
Liv is eighteen and about to start her freshman year at Yale. She’s Uncle Will’s daughter, and the only cousin close to my age. The others are all thirteen or under, with Aunt Jacqueline’s late-in-life baby Mariah being the youngest at five. My aunt had her at forty-four.
“Hi, squirt,” I greet the little girl who waddles up beside Liv. Mariah looks adorable in a white tutu dress and shiny silver barrettes. She reminds me of my sisters, which makes me wish they were here tonight. But Dad and Co. weren’t invited, and even if they had been, I’m sure Nia would rather be caught dead than interact with my mother. Not that I blame her.
I greet my aunt and uncles, who flew in last night from Massachusetts and Connecticut.
“It’s a family reunion!” Uncle Max gives me a kiss on the cheek and then ruffles Mariah’s hair. “Where’s Victoria?” he asks me.
“I don’t know. She arrived with us but then disappeared. I think she went to the ladies’ room.” I scan the ballroom, which isn’t super crowded yet. Still, there’s a fair number of people milling around, in an array of beautiful gowns and tailored suits and tuxedos. “Oh, there she is.”
Mom saunters over. I can’t deny she looks stunning in her form-fitting black gown, red-soled Louboutins, and elegant updo. She’s forty-five and honestly looks ten years younger. Genetically, that bodes well for me.