“What do you do?” I ask.
“I work at Omega Wealth Management.”
What a small world. That’s where Hilary works too. “Gavin Lloyd’s company, right?”
Pascal blinks. “Yeah. Are you a client there?”
I laugh. “I wish. I’m not rich enough for Gavin. One of my best friends is his assistant.”
“Oh, Hilary Pryce! She’s so wonderful,” Pascal says.
“And soon, you’ll be rich enough for Gavin, too. Then you can have Pascal manage your money for you.” Court beams at his fiancée, his entire body glowing with pride. Then he leans over toward me and lowers his voice in mock conspiracy. “She’s rrreally good.”
I almost drop my virgin Chianti at how easily he mentions my new wealth status. I didn’t even think about it. I mean… Yeah, I live in an incredible penthouse I’d never be able to afford on my own. And I know that Edgar is rich. But the notion that his money is going to become my money isn’t something I’d ever really considered.
“That’s true,” Tony says. “Pascal’s good, and I’m not just saying that because she’s going to be my sister-in-law. She’s worth ten million times what Court is.”
“That only makes it half a billion,” Court jokes. “Surely she’s worth at least ten billion.”
Pascal and Ivy both shake their heads, rolling their eyes in unison.
Hmm. I feel like I’m missing something.
Edgar leans over and whispers, “Pascal left Court fifty bucks after their first time together. That’s what they’re talking about.”
She paid him to sleep with her…?
“…Tempérane, Jo?”
I swivel my head. Court’s looking at me. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I was asking if you’re going to relocate to Tempérane.”
Oh. My eyes dart to Edgar. We haven’t really discussed this. I brought it up once in the parking lot after the dinner at Manny’s, but we never got to talk about it.
“I mean, it isn’t like Edgar can just quit his job,” Court says. Then he winces. “Ow.”
“Sorry,” Tony says. “Leg twitch.” He gives the table a forced smile. “Obviously, it’s up to Jo to decide what she wants to do, and there’s no reason for us to be nosy.”
What’s all this about? Was Court not supposed to bring up Tempérane, or…?
Before I can answer, Edgar waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. I won’t be asking Jo to go.”
His firm, decisive tone makes me pull back. What does it mean? And when was all this decided? How is this living arrangement supposed to work if I’m here and he’s…over there?
“You won’t…?” I say finally.
“No. Tempérane isn’t for you. You should be here, in L.A.”
Edgar’s telling me what I’ve been thinking. What I hoped I could do. If I stay, I don’t have to start over—or worse, give up the career I love so much. But at the same time, there’s a part of me that hates this dead-set stance. Shouldn’t he at least try to convince me Louisiana isn’t so bad? That we should live together? He said he wanted to marry me, but did he mean we’ll be married in name only?
If so, why did he look so damned pleased just moments ago when Tony made that toast?
I realize my unease stems from the fact that he’s talking like I’m never going to Tempérane. Ever. But that doesn’t make any sense. His parents are there. If he wants to marry me, shouldn’t he at least introduce me to them? I just can’t imagine hiding the person I’m about to marry from my parents, unless I was ashamed of him. Like with Aaron.
Oh my God. Does Edgar think I’m a female version of Aaron?
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to visit,” I add, my tone overly casual to hide my unhappiness and confusion.