Chapter 22 The Engagement Dinner: The Perfect Mask
Cade
The Hartford flagship's private dining room was everything I'd expected: elegant, expensive, designed to impress. Family members mingled with cocktails while waitstaff circulated with canapés. I kept my hand on the small of Sloane's back. The gesture of an attentive fiancé. She was rigid under my touch but didn't pull away. We'd agreed to sell this.
“There's Aunt Claire,” Sloane murmured.
Claire Hartford approached with practiced grace, blonde and polished in cream-colored dress. She extended both hands to Sloane first, kissing her cheek with what looked like genuine affection.
“The golden couple,” Claire said, stepping forward to press her cheek against Sloane’s. “You look radiant, darling. Then she turned to me, her smile warm. “And you must be Cade.”
“You must be Claire Hartford. Thank you for hosting this dinner.” I said, shaking her hand.
“Please, call me Claire.” Her eyes held mine a fraction longer than necessary.
“How long have you and Sloane been... reconnected?”
“Just recently,” Sloane said, sliding her arm through mine. “After grandmother's death, Cade reached out to offer condolences. We got the chance to resolve our differences. One thing led to another.”
“It’s easy when the motivation is right,” I said, giving her a nod that was just polite enough to be respectful.
“How romantic.” Claire's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “Love rekindled in the midst of tragedy.”
“Something like that,” I said easily.
“Congratulations,” Richard said, shaking my hand. “Good to have you... back, I suppose.”
Dinner was announced, and we moved to the table. I pulled out Sloane's chair, small gesture, noticed by everyone watching. Sat beside her, close enough to look like the perfect couple, far enough to give her space.
The conversations flowed around us: business talk, family gossip, questions about the wedding. I played my role perfectly, engaged but not overeager, interested but not intrusive, answering questions without offering too much.
Melissa sat directly across from Sloane, her diamonds catching the light every time she reached for her wine. She spent the first couple of minutes making passive-aggressive comments about the sudden nature of our engagement, her eyes darting between Sloane’s face and the ring on her finger.
“I have to say, Sloane,” Melissa began, picking at her salad. “I’m impressed. Most people take time after a loss. You seem to have… reorganized remarkably fast. You managed to fit into an engagement and you’re planning for a wedding, all in what, a few weeks? It’s almost efficient.”
“Grandmother valued resilience,” Sloane replied. “She wouldn't have wanted her business to stall because we were grieving.”
“Resilience. Is that what we’re calling it?” Melissa laughed. “I remember when we were kids, you used to hide in the library for days if you lost a tennis match. You weren't very 'resilient' back then. Just... fragile.”
“Well, I told you before. People change, Melissa. It’s been a long time.”
“Clearly,” Melissa said, leaning forward. “Though some things stay the same. You still have that habit of disappearing when things get stressful. I’ve noticed you’ve been spending quite a bit of time away from the office lately. And away from your fiancé’s townhouse, apparently.”
Sloane took a slow sip of her water, setting the glass down with a soft thud. “I’ve been busy with the transition. There are a lot of moving parts.”
“Is that right?” Melissa’s eyes glinted. “It's funny, Sloane. I’ve been grabbing lunch at that little cafe on 5th twice this week. The one right near your old apartment? I saw you both times, sitting by the window, alone, looking like you were buried in work.”
Sloane didn't miss a beat. “I’ve always used that spot for focus, Melissa. Still do. Old habits.I work well there.”
“I’m sure,” Melissa countered, “but you’re a newly engaged woman. Usually, that involves mid-day dates.” Melissa’s smile didn’t waver. “I only mention it because people notice these things. Especially public engagements.”
Claire tilted her head, her gaze shifting between us. “Really? That is unusual. Given the nature of all this, I’d think you’d be bonding over shared meals. Is everything alright at the house? I imagine moving in after six years has its challenges.”
“We’re...managing,” Sloane said, her voice cooling.
“Hmm.”, Claire breathed, before her next sentence. “So, Cade, now that Sloane has moved, Cade, I can imagine your house it’s lost that bachelors look.”, her eyes fixed on Sloane. “How is Sloane fitting in? I can’t picture her delicate things surviving in there without a complete turn around of the layout.”
Sloane hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Well, I'm still settling in. We haven't really worried about the decor yet.”
“Is that so?” Claire asked. “Well, I suppose it doesn't matter how the house looks as long as you’re ready for the future,” Claire said, taking a sip of her wine. “I was speaking to the board today about the summer gala in August. I assumed you’d want the presidential suite at the Harbor property for the weekend. Or are you planning on staying at the cottage in the Hamptons this year?”
“The Harbor,” I said at the same time Sloane said, “The Hamptons.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Sloane cleared her throat. “We talked about the Hamptons, Cade. I thought you wanted privacy.”
“Right!” I said, catching the lifeline. “I just thought for the gala, being on-site at the Harbor would be more efficient for your hosting duties.”
Claire set her glass down with a deliberate cling against the table. She looked from Sloane to me, a curious, knowing expression settling on her face.
“You two haven't discussed the summer at all, have you?” Claire asked softly. “In fact, you haven't really discussed anything beyond this weekend. It’s almost as if you’re both living in a world that ends in a few months.”
“We're taking things one day at a time, Aunt Claire,” Sloane said, trying to smile. “After six years apart, we’re focused on the present.”
Richard jumped slightly, his fork clattering against his plate. “I’m sure they’re just busy. The wedding. It can be a lot of work.”
“Yes,” Claire said, her eyes returning to Sloane. “The wedding. We’re looking forward to it.”
“So Cade”, Richard said, trying to fill in the silence that ensued. “What about family? There aren’t much of your folks around tonight”
“No, no”, I said. “My parents are out on a business trip this week”, I lied. “But they send their greetings”.
Even after six years, I’m sure that the last thing my dad would want to hear is that I’m getting engaged to Sloane…again.
“Oh. That’s fine. I understand how that can be.”, Richard mentioned. “What about siblings?”, he asked picking up his glass for a sip.
“I had a sister,” I said evenly. “But…she passed away a few years ago.”
The table softened immediately. Then came the reflexive sympathy people offer without asking questions.
“I’m sorry”, Richard said, putting down his glass.
"How terrible. Was it sudden?", Claire asked.
The question hung. I couldn't say murder without revealing everything
"Yes. Very sudden." She was sick, I lied. I believe the questions about Lily had stretched enough
“I’m sorry,” Claire said, genuine this time. She reached for her wine. “Well, I suppose loss has a way of rearranging priorities. Perhaps just like her grandmother’s loss made you and Sloane find your way back to each other.”
“Perhaps,” I said.
Dessert arrived. Conversation softened. Laughter returned in careful doses, like a performance resuming after a missed cue.
Claire smiled. Richard relaxed. Melissa checked her phone beneath the table.
To anyone watching, the evening had recovered beautifully.
I let myself breathe again. But I couldn’t shake the sense that something had shifted.
Not exposed. Just… noted.
I wondered if I was imagining the tension, if playing a role too long had made me see threat where there was only habit.