“Well, I’m sure he’s doing a fine job in marketing,” Linh insisted.

“Anyone can be good at marketing,” Trihn snapped.

“I couldn’t,” Ian said with a short laugh.

“But you’re a genius at computers. See? This is what real skill looks like. Not just people who know how to twist words,” Trihn said. She knew she was upset and on the verge of losing it, but she couldn’t stop. “People will believe anything if you say it with enough conviction, isn’t that right?” she spat Preston’s words back at him.

His resulting smile only infuriated her more.

“God!” Lydia cried. “I know your boyfriend just broke up with you, but you are just being a bitch for no reason! You only dated him for a couple of weeks!”

Trihn’s mouth dropped open, and then she shoved her chair back. “Excuse me, but I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

“Trihn,” Lydia murmured, as if realizing she had gone too far.

But Trihn didn’t want to make up with Lydia. She didn’t even want to look at Lydia. She saw Preston stamped all over her. Jealousy was a fiery inferno in her gut, and she had to hold back the tears as she stormed out of the room.

“DO NOT OPEN THAT BOTTLE OF CHAMPAGNE,” Ian said, lunging for Trihn across the cellar.

Pop.

“What did you say?” she asked coyly.

“My mom is going to kill me.”

“Your mom won’t even notice,” Trihn insisted. She pressed the bottle to her lips and tipped it up in the air. “Oh my God, this is so good.”

“Well, enjoy it. It’s the last thing you’ll ever drink.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“It’s her favorite!” He winced.

“Then, I guess we have to drink the whole bottle before the party and stash the evidence, huh?” she asked. The logic seemed sound to her.

Ian gave her a skeptical look but took the bottle when she passed it to him. There was no going back now. They couldn’t recork the bottle or anything at this point.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” But he drank from the bottle without another word.

At least she was getting him to drink.

The last three days Trihn had stayed over at Ian’s house to escape the insanity that was happening at her place. She couldn’t stand another second of Preston and Lydia being together or her mother trying to make her feel better by forcing her on Ian or really anything at the moment. Mostly, she had spent her days in a haze of inebriation by the pool. Margaritas, daiquiris, mojitos…vodka, rum, gin…and even a few Coronas for good measure—anything to keep her tipsy enough not to give a shit.

But she couldn’t avoid the Petersons’ party.

Ian’s parents would throw a huge party every year, and their friends from all over would come to the Hamptons to celebrate. It was one of the biggest events of the season. Trihn should be looking forward to seeing the friends that she and Ian had made over the years, but all she could think about was confronting Preston and Lydia.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’ve really been spending every minute over here this week?” Ian asked. He placed the expensive bottle of champagne on the bar next to him.

“I don’t know what you mean. I always spend time over here.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s normally not this much, and some of the time, Lydia is usually here with whatever new guy she’s been seeing.”

“So?”

“So…I was there for that awkward dinner conversation. What’s with you and Ly? Do you just hate the new guy? Are you worried about sharing her time when you get to NYU? What’s up? I know something other than the breakup has been simmering,” he said intuitively.

Trihn grabbed the champagne back off the bar and took another swig. “Can we not talk about this? I’d rather just keep drinking and dancing.”

She took his hand in hers and forced him to twirl her around in place.

“You know I can’t dance.”

Trihn laughed. “You can when you’ve had a little bit more to drink. Here. Drink up.”

He retrieved the bottle that she’d practically launched at him. “I don’t consider that dancing.”

“What is it then, Ian?” she teased. “Sex on the dance floor?”

His whole face burned at the comment. “I know you’re just trying to change the subject.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked, turning away from him.

He set the bottle back down, grabbed her shoulders in his hands, and stopped her in place. “Because I know something is bothering you. I can’t fix it unless I know what it is, and I hate when I can’t fix a problem.”

“I’m not a computer, Ian. You can’t fix me,” she said calmly. But her heart was racing. No one could fix what had happened.

“I know, but you’re not the problem. Something is bothering you, and I can fix it. Why won’t you tell me what it is?” he demanded.

She saw a fire in Ian that he didn’t normally bring out. He must be really worried. Normally, he was so shy that he would never demand anything from her.

“Preston is cheating on Lydia,” she spat out.

Ian dropped his arms and stared at her in surprise. “What? How do you know?”

“Because I saw him with someone else.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I saw him in the city.”

“Are you sure it was Preston? I mean, there are nearly nine million people in New York City. It could have just been someone who looked like him,” Ian insisted.

“It was him.”

“You’re certain?”

“Ian, yes.” She had never been more certain in her life. But the words that she was the person he had been cheating with somehow got stuck in her mouth. He had been cheating on both of them. They’d had a relationship. He had been her boyfriend, too, not just Lydia’s.

Now, Trihn was just…empty.

“You must not have told Lydia.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Are you going to?”

She nodded. Yeah, she had every intention of telling Lydia as soon as they weren’t all locked together in this insufferable house. Just a few more days, and then Lydia could know the truth.

“I will when we get home.”

“Maybe we should go tell her now. She deserves to know the kind of scumbag she’s dating.”

Trihn blanched. “Give me that bottle back.”

He grabbed it and held it high over her head, and even though she was tall, there was no way she was going to be able to reach it.

“We should go tell Lydia.”

“We?” Trihn asked. “No, I’m not going to tell her, Ian. Definitely not right now while we’re here with him. She’s never going to believe me, especially after that catastrophe of a dinner. You heard her call me a bitch. She’s just going to think I’m jealous.”

Ian lowered the champagne bottle as he considered her words. “Are you sure Lydia would do that?”

Trihn leveled him with a flat look and snatched the bottle back from him. “You know Lydia.”

“Yeah, I do,” he conceded. “She probably would go ballistic.”

“I know.” Trihn brought the bottle to her lips again. “By the way, you’re going to need to help me finish this.”

They finished that bottle and started in on another—cheaper—bottle.

By the time the party was in full swing, Trihn was in her new favorite place—abandon.

She had gone home only long enough to change into her new emerald-green dress that she had bought for just this occasion, and she’d reassured her mother that she was going to the party. She had stayed home long enough to listen to her mother go on about how she wasn’t spending any time with the family, and then she’d left. And she’d convinced herself she was drunk enough that she didn’t care that Preston was stealing her last family vacation before she would go to college.