Malendar. Grady liked to party, and he was very good at it.
Sam excused herself from the giggling festivities in search of some air. While standing on the balcony, she heard a car pull up the circular drive. Black Lincoln Town Car, one of the fleet maintained by the Malendars. The car stopped, and the driver walked around to open the door. Grady stepped out steadily, but then put his arm around the driver, who grinned politely and then bent to help the other passenger. Sam hoped Grady had the good sense not to bring a woman around during the shower.
Peter emerged from the car, a little less gracefully. Grady moved his affection from the driver to Peter. While Sam was relieved Grady had not brought one of his many lady friends home to his parents’ house, her pulse quickened at the sight of Peter. It had been a few days since she had seen him at rehearsals—the day he decided to parade their private life in front of everyone—but she was still clouded by a mess of feelings she couldn’t shake.
Grady and Peter held each other up, waved to the driver, and turned toward the door, the front door. They couldn’t see her standing on the balcony, so Sam watched as they both wobbled together. Grady held his liquor well, but Sam wasn’t sure about Peter. It occurred to her that she no longer knew how Peter held his liquor. Either way, intoxicated or not, Grady and Peter heading into Cynthia’s wedding shower was not good. She had to give it to them for sheer courage, thinking they were going to walk through the front door in their current state.
Leaning over the balcony railing now, Sam watched as they both laughed, turned from the front door, and began walking around the house right under her. Side door, good choice guys, she thought, watching as they walked below her joking like they were in high school.
“Did you already finish that, that Slurpee? Such a stupid word . . . Slurpee,” Peter said trying, and failing miserably, to whisper.
He was in tan pants and a navy jacket barely hanging on to his broad shoulders. Grady was in a full suit with his tie shoved into the pocket of his jacket. They were both quite disheveled, curling over laughing as they stumbled around the corner. In spite of herself, Sam relished seeing both of them relaxed and silly. Peter’s mother had fallen into a serious drinking problem after his father died, so that even when they were in college Peter rarely drank. Which was fine, but it was refreshing to see Peter let loose. Grady must have dragged him to the club with his famous line: “Let’s go blow off some steam.”
Sam moved back into the study, still not ready to rejoin the shower. They’d been starting to play “How Well Does the Bride Know Her Groom?” when Sam had stepped away. She honestly couldn’t take it; backing away, she’d gone up the stairs and into the study unnoticed. Sam figured that game and the two or three that would follow should allow her a few moments of peace, unless Grady and Peter actually decided to crash the shower. If they were smart they would just stay in the kitchen or get back in the car and go to Grady’s house. Why were they here? Bindi didn’t give Grady much slack when they were growing up, so she certainly wouldn’t take kindly to his behavior now.
Sam sat in one of the high-backed, dark green chairs facing a massive, heavy, wood and glass cabinet of bookshelves. This library was part of the original house built back in 1929. Sam had always liked this room. The three of them prepared for their SATs in this study. Sam’s memories reached back even further as she picked up the book on the table in front of her, The History of the Ottoman Empire. No doubt a little light reading for Grady. Sam remembered coming to Grady’s house after grade school and playing store in this very room. Everywhere Sam went there were pieces of her past. The rich chocolate cake and crème brûlée she had eaten earlier were now both ganging up on her and turning