Page 100 of Built to Fall
“Hey.” She raises her hands in the air, leading us out of my bedroom. “It’s not mine to tell.”
“Thank God the two of you are here,” I say as Braxton, Savannah, and I are seated in the corner of the restaurant. “It’s the only reason we got a reservation.”
The two Sinclairs hold power, and not only in New York City, where they were born and raised into an empire of wealth.
In New Haven, the two of them have formed names for themselves while also being recognized for the family they come from. They’re likely two of the most well-known people at Yale, and even more so when they’re in NYC.
So, yeah, getting a table at this restaurant that has a six-month waitlist would have been impossible for anyone but them.
“It didn’t hurt that Savannah was practically sucking off the hostess,” Braxton grunts, glaring at his sister.
He’s overly protective of her, even though he knows she’s going to do whatever the fuck she wants regardless.
She teasingly tilts her head. “I know how to work the system.”
“Isn’t your last name leverage enough?” I ask.
“Grant, we’re in New Haven. Everyone in this town knows how much money you’re being given to play football for Yale. We would have gotten a seat regardless.” Then she glances around, moving on quickly. “I love these chandeliers.”
The lights above the table are dim, keeping up with the expensive atmosphere. The crystals hanging down from the hardware cause gold light to scatter on the white tablecloth.
I’m shocked Savannah is impressed by them. “Don’t you have even bigger chandeliers in the entryway of your house?”
“Yeah, but the ones in my parents’ house are gaudy. They only wanted them to make a statement. These ones are placed purposefully.”
“Gaudy”would be the last way I’d describe the Sinclair mansion. It’s more elegant than anything—with marble floors and a grand double entry staircase. It looks straight out of a magazine.
But Savannah has always looked at beauty as something that has to be intentional to mean something.
“Aren’t your parents rich?” she then asks me, turning in her chair. “You probably have chandeliers in your house too.”
I immediately shake my head. “I might be rich, but my mom was always adamant about our house feelinghomey.She was convinced that if it was too big or too elegant, then it would feel like a museum.”
The Sinclair house was exactly what my momdidn’twant.
“Your mom didn’t come from money, did she?” Savannah asks knowingly.
“No. The complete opposite. I think that’s why all of the flashy ways people usually show off their money always made her uncomfortable.”
I’ll never forget when Dad bought her a car for Mother’s Day one year. It was a light pink Porsche 718 Boxster. She was pissed when she walked out of the front door and saw it in the driveway, a giant bow on the hood.
After a bit of teasing from my dad, though, she got excited like we all knew she would. But it was always hard for her to accept that Dad justhadthat kind of money when she grew up with barely any at all.
Braxton looks down at his phone. “The girls should be walking in right now,” he says.
“Hi guys.” Eden smiles, approaching the table. Her hot pink dress catches the light, making it impossible not to notice when coupled with her bright red hair.
Lina and Meredith are following close behind, both wearing just as fancy outfits, given the caliber of the restaurant.
“Hey!” Savannah smiles happily. “How are you guys?”
“Starving.” Lina groans, and I watch as Savannah grabs her wrist, pulling her to sit between us.
I hone in on the way her expression changes and the way she pulls down her leather skirt as she takes a seat. She almost looks unsure if she should be the one to sit between us, but it’s not like her to think twice about anything, so she does it anyway.
At the same time, a waiter approaches, setting waters in front of everyone before taking additional drink orders.
“Kara is the primary cook of our household, but she’s in the city for an overnight photo shoot,” Meredith explains, taking a seat next to Braxton.
