Page 17 of Love and Lies

“Nothing at all. I just didn’t sleep well, I guess.” Best not to assign too much importance to it or I’d just get mad again, thinking about what Helena had thrown in my face. You didn’t even know Valerie, and you were God knows where when they died.

Too late. I looked up.

“Hey, Thaz…”—I decided to ask my buddy after all—“What do you know about Helena Weston?” Thaz was the only person who could tell me anything about her, since he’d known my brother too, and I wasn’t in contact with any of Adam’s other friends.

“Helena?” Thaz raised both eyebrows. “Valerie’s little sister?”

I nodded. “Maybe you met her when Adam and Valerie were together.” As Helena had so aptly pointed out, I wasn’t around at the time, and before that I hadn’t mixed with any Upper East Siders, so I’d never met Valerie or any of her family. At least not knowingly.

“I guess.” My friend wracked his brains. He and Adam hadn’t been super close; they’d met at parties now and again while I was away. “She sometimes came with when we used to go out nights. But she was seventeen or something, so I didn’t really take much notice. I never really talked to her; she didn’t attract much attention—she mostly just worshipped her sister. She got a bit lost in the gaggle of it girls always hanging around Valerie.”

I couldn’t picture it, thinking about the girl I met on Sunday—and the look she’d given me. Helena Weston wasn’t someone who could get lost anywhere. On the contrary, she’d knocked me clean out, and not in the way I’d expected. But how could I have guessed what would happen? I’d gone after a woman who’d intrigued me more than anyone I’d ever seen before, even from a distance, only to find out that her rage—that same rage I knew all too well—had been meant for me, my family. She’d caught me so off guard, the waves at Rockaway were a joke in comparison. And it had only unleashed my own anger, which was still bothering me. What made her think she had a monopoly on the truth? And why was this all still on my mind the entire time?

“Why do you want to know about Helena?” Thaz’s voice brought me back to the present. “She lives in England, doesn’t she?”

“England?” I stared at him in confusion.

He nodded. “Her parents sent her straight to boarding school after Valerie died. Right after the funeral, as far as I know. She hasn’t been back to New York at all in the last few years. I think she even goes to college in Cambridge.”

That explained the slight British accent.

“If that’s true, then either she’s visiting—or she’s back.”

“How do you know? Have you met her?”

I nodded. “At my mom’s award ceremony. The Westons weren’t there, but I saw Helena at the bar at one point. I followed her when she left, and we talked.”

“Quite the thrill seeker,” Thaz remarked dryly. “Approaching a Weston—anyone ever tell you that was a bad idea? You may as well knock on the front door of the White House and ask to see the president.”

“I didn’t know who she was, damn it,” I said in my defense.

“How could you not know? Haven’t you ever seen photos of the Westons?”

I had, of course, but I clearly never paid much attention to Helena. And because I hadn’t met her at all since I’d come back to New York, I’d blocked her out completely. All I’d known was that there was another daughter besides Valerie, and that her name was Helena. At least that had been all, until Sunday. Now I was also aware that she was incredibly beautiful… as well as extremely capable of pissing me off.

“I guess not. And she doesn’t exactly look like Valerie.”

The server came over, bringing us drinks we hadn’t ordered, but that didn’t surprise me. Taddeo was generous, and proud of his exceptional wine cellar.

“How did Helena react?” my friend asked, taking a sip of the red. “Jeez, where does old Taddy get a hold of these amazing wines?”

For that, he got a slap on the back of the head from our host, who had just appeared at our table. “Less of the old,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “And you know who my supplier is, Balthazar, but I’ve banned them from selling to you directly, otherwise I’d never see you in here again.”

Thaz laughed. “You know full well that’ll never happen, I don’t have to pay for the wine here. Or Leonora’s unbeatable food.”

I shook my head, grinning at the banter flying back and forth between them. “Keep talking, and I’ll let you pay in future,” I warned, reaching for my Coke. As much as it had pained my father, I’d never been a fan of red wine. If I did drink, then whiskey or gin, sometimes beer.

“Come on,” said Thaz. “Why do you think I have a friend who owns multiple restaurants?”

“So he can teach you some manners,” said Taddeo, giving Thaz another slap before he disappeared.

“Anyway, I only own half of it,” I reminded Thaz. When I assumed ownership of my dad’s restaurants, I’d offered all the long-term managers the opportunity to buy me out. It was Taddeo and Leonora who did the work around here, not me, so it was only fair that they had a share of the place’s success. And another reason why it was absurd that they felt they had to run the purchase of new equipment past me.

“So tell me—how did Helena react?” Thaz clearly remembered where we’d left off.

I gave a snort. “She told me who she was and then accused us of spreading lies about Valerie. Said I didn’t know Valerie, or even Adam. It was a pretty short and sharp exchange. And then she left.” Full of vitriol, evidently—and yet that surprised me. The Westons never displayed any kind of emotion in public; it was something of a trademark of theirs. No matter the circumstances, they all wore an impenetrable mask of politeness, arrogance, and social superiority. Except Helena—I could tell exactly what she was feeling. I’d seen both her grief and her rage, as well as her attempt to hide them from me. Without success.

“Wait… this isn’t going to be another Adam and Valerie, is it?” Thaz raised his eyebrows. “Your families were already at loggerheads back then. What do you think is gonna happen if you and Helena do a rerun? Shakespeare himself would rise from the grave and pay good money to see that show.”