The Life She Wanted: A Novel(2)
But Archie and Virginia were her best friends, and she was thrilled to be joining them. If it weren’t for them, she would never have met Owen. They had always been so caring and accepting. One day, she hoped to return the favor when her dreams had come true and she had her own family and parties to throw.
A butler stood at the front door, escorting guests into the reception rooms.
The ceilings were painted with a fresco as rich and detailed as the Persian rugs that covered the parquet floors. Gilt mirrors graced the walls, and silk sofas were upholstered in a color that was new to Pandora: not quite pink and not quite white, like the pale lipstick Virginia hid from her mother in her dressing table. Chandeliers hung so low Pandora could see the glass prisms, and white columns topped with plaster rosettes reached the ceiling.
The French doors to the garden opened, and Owen entered the reception room, trailed by a few of the younger guests. Owen wasn’t classically handsome like Archie. Archie had blue eyes that were so light they were almost violet. His hair was blond, and he had a strong physique that made girls stop and stare, even when he left the house without brushing his hair, wearing his father’s gardening clothes. But Owen had his own unique appeal. His light brown hair was styled by the best barber, and his clothes came from his father’s tailor in London. Today Owen wore tennis whites set off by a Piaget watch that made the light hair on his wrist stand out.
“Pandora, there you are,” Owen said as he greeted her. His smile widened, and he looked delighted to see her. “I was afraid you weren’t coming.” He turned to Archie and Virginia. “I should have known these two made you late. Archie probably only got up an hour ago. At Princeton, I have to drag him out of bed on the weekends.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m lazy,” Archie replied. “I like to read in bed, not that you’d know about reading. I’ve never seen you actually crack a book.”
“I get enough of this guy at Princeton. I’m glad you’re here.” Owen leaned forward to Pandora conspiratorially. He had the same warm look in his eyes as when he had invited Pandora to walk by the river after a tennis lesson last month. “I hope you’re staying for the whole weekend.”
Pandora could hardly keep the elation from her expression. But she didn’t want to appear too obvious in front of the other guests.
“It’s lovely that your mother invited me,” she replied, searching for Mabel Winthrop. “I’d love to thank her in person . . .”
It was important that Pandora make a good impression on Owen’s mother. Owen would never be able to marry her if she didn’t. And now, wearing her loveliest dress and feeling like she almost fit in, was the perfect moment for Pandora to meet Mabel for the first time.
“There’ll be time for that this evening,” Owen cut in. “Where’s your bag? You should get changed.”
“Changed?” Pandora repeated, puzzled.
She was dressed as appropriately as any of the young women who had started spilling from the balcony into the drawing room. They milled around in small groups, gossiping and finishing each other’s sentences the way girls did when they’d known each other since nursery school.
“For our tennis match,” Owen said, prompting her. “You’re my mixed doubles partner. We’re playing Gordon Mott and his date, Susan. Gordon is on the tennis team at Harvard.”
Pandora tried to keep the disappointment out of her eyes. She should be happy that Owen wanted to play doubles with her. They’d be together on the tennis court for hours. But she’d imagined strolling around the grounds on Owen’s arm, Owen introducing her to his parents and friends.
A girl about her age appeared beside Owen. She was very pretty. She wore her brunette hair in long curls, and her brown eyes peered out from underneath a broad-brimmed hat.
“Owen, I couldn’t find you,” she said, making a little pout. “You deserted me before you finished showing me the boathouse.”
“There’s time to see the rowboats later,” Owen replied. “I’ve got an important tennis match.”
The girl stood directly opposite Pandora.
“You haven’t introduced me to the new arrivals.” The pout formed on the girl’s lips again.
“Archie, Virginia, Pandora.” Owen waved at the group. “This is Lillian Clarkson; we met in Europe last summer. The Clarksons have a townhouse near ours in Sutton Place, and her father’s steel company does business with Winthrop Motors.”
“Why do men always mention what our fathers do?” Lillian rolled her eyes at Virginia while smiling flirtatiously at Archie. She completely ignored Pandora.
“Your tennis match better be over, and you better be showered and shaved, by the start of cocktails.” Lillian turned back to Owen. She moved closer and touched his arm.
Virginia waited until Owen and Lillian wandered off. Pandora tried to shake the fear that gripped her. Owen hadn’t mentioned Lillian before. What if he didn’t have feelings for Pandora? What if he liked Lillian instead?
“Don’t worry about Lillian Clarkson,” Virginia whispered to Pandora under her breath. “She’s pretty, but she has no brains. She’s as thick as her ankles.”
Virginia was the only person who knew about Pandora’s romantic interest in Owen.
“I didn’t notice Lillian’s ankles,” Pandora said dully. She was still smarting from Owen only talking to her about tennis and then walking off with Lillian.