Page 5 of Denying Davis
Christ, I can’t even go to a wedding without the sycophants clamoring to brown-nose me.
Not that it was a surprise. I was Davis Armstrong III—heir apparent to my grandfather’s steel, sugar, manufacturing, and banking mega fortune. I had an MBA to my pedigree, and a future that was already paved before me. After a few months spent wandering around Europe, I’d come to Palm Beach to take my rightful place in the array of Armstrong properties.
I was a bright, shiny new addition to the empire.
“Don’t look so glum,” Aaron Shields, my closest friend on the island, said as he walked up to me, holding a fresh glass of beer. He raised it in a mock toast. “Lighten up for one night, all right? This is a wedding, and not just any wedding.Thewedding of the season.”
“That’s saying a lot, but you’re right.” I clinked his glass with what remained of my wine. “Count on Trevor McNamara to have a fantastic ceremony, and an even bigger party.”
Aaron shook his head. “Dude, don’t count on him, count on Ainsley Ross. Or, should I say, Ainsley McNamara? She’d never settle for anything less than the absolute best.”
“They seem in love,” I said, remembering the ceremony, which had taken place that afternoon at Bethesda-By-the-Sea, a historic church in the center of town that played host to the weddings of many in East Coast society, including a few presidents, and one or two minor European royals. One day, my own wedding would probably take place there too. Like so much of my life, it had already been determined. “Trevor was almost crying during the vows.”
“Lucky bastard.” Aaron jerked his chin in the direction of the bride, who wore a long white gown with lacy sleeves and a crown of flowers on her head. “Too bad she’s another one off the market down here. You’ve got such slim pickings in Palm Beach, and she was one of the hotter ones.” He grinned.
“Good thing I don’t have you as competition.”
“Oh no, honey. I’m the one scouting the best women for you.” His upper lip curled. “And based on your usual taste, you need me.”
“Hey, I do all right.”
He scoffed. “I wouldn’t call it that. But at least your dates aren’t half dead.”
I laughed at his joke. No matter how much it might be changing, Palm Beach was still in many ways an enclave of old money and old people. Many of them mingled around us, dripping in diamonds, pastel gowns, and tuxedos. Palm Beach wasn’t exactly the place to meet eligible younger women.
WestPalm Beach, though…
“How’s your grandfather holding up?” Aaron asked. “I haven’t seen him.”
“Oh, I think he’s fine, but I still can’t believe he insisted on coming.”
“What about his heart?”
“He says it’s fine.” I shrugged. “But who really knows? Two heart attacks already would have killed most people.”
“The old man’s a tough one.”
“He is.” I took a final large swig of wine and placed it on the tray of a passing waiter. “And there is no way to talk him out of something once he sets his mind to it.” I gave my friend a knowing look. “On that note, I’ll see you later. I should go find him.Andmy date.”
“Good idea, Prince of Palm Beach.”
I scoffed.
“What? You are, and you know it.” Aaron turned the corners of his mouth down and nodded. “By the way, later, the partner and I are going out on Clematis Street over in West Palm if you want to join us.”
“I’ll text you.”
I moved away from him and weaved my way through the well-heeled glamorous crowd, which had spilled out from the wide doors of the ballroom at the Philips Estate and onto the pavilion and pool deck. I gave a few head nods and greetings to people as I wove through clumps of partiers, looking for my grandfather and Irene, my companion for the evening.
Technically, this was my third date with Irene, and she’d made it obvious how much she wanted things to progress between us. I felt a dull sense of dread about this, as if Irene was one of the many planned and programmed things about my looming future. She and I had known each other for about five years, but I suspected she mostly wanted a stab at the fortune that came along with snagging me.
Which was also the case with about ninety-five percent of the women I met, and another unwelcome side effect of being an Armstrong.
“Here you are,” I said once I found them near the fountain on the north side of the lawn. “Still having a good time?”
“Of course,” my grandfather replied, leaning on the cane that had long ago become a permanent accessory. “We were just speaking with Mrs. Ross, Ainsley’s mother. She’s very pleased to have Trevor in the family.” He surveyed the party guests as if looking for something this conversation wouldn’t provide. “And it seems the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. McNamara are on their way.”
“An interesting turn of events, given their family rivalry,” Irene mumbled before she drank a long sip of champagne from a tall crystal flute. “Just goes to show, you never can tell what will happen.”
