Everybody Rise by Stephanie Clifford Read Free Book Online

He basically insinuated Pres was gay while Pres was standing there.”
    â€œReally?” Charlotte said. “He should’ve seen Pres sticking his tongue down that girl’s throat at Dorrian’s that one time after we spent all Saturday at the Boathouse.”
    â€œThat was two years ago,” Evelyn said.
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo that was the last time he kissed anyone, as far as I know. I’m not sure he would come out even if he were gay, as his family has such strict ideas of what he should be—or, more to the point, he thinks they have those ideas. The thing is—” She stopped herself, noticing that Charlotte was picking at her feet and remembering that Charlotte hadn’t hooked up with anyone in a year or two, either. Evelyn flushed, feeling even more like an idiot when she remembered the unspoken Charlotte and Preston incident: In college, they had all met up one weekend in New York, and had ended up in the lobby of the Royalton after a long night of drinking. Evelyn was coming back from the bathroom when she saw Charlotte pull Preston’s face down to hers and kiss him soundly on the mouth. Evelyn froze as Charlotte leaned in for more, but Preston pulled back and, not unkindly, patted Charlotte on the head then offered her some water. When Evelyn shook off her shock and rejoined them, both were settled into the Royalton’s deep white chairs, conversing about where Preston could find cigars. Neither Charlotte nor Preston had ever mentioned it. Preston kept so much under wraps that that wasn’t a surprise, but Charlotte never talking about it made Evelyn wonder how significant that kiss was in Charlotte’s mind.
    â€œAnyway, I’m not sure we need Phil Giamatti’s take on it. Like, thanks, thought police,” Evelyn said.
    â€œHere, you’re going to break that.” Charlotte rose to fasten Evelyn’s clasp. “I think Preston’s just not into the whole dating thing.”
    â€œRight,” Evelyn said. “Right.”
    â€œWant to know my opinion of Preston’s demons?” Charlotte asked. “I think it’s that he doesn’t have a real job.”
    â€œGood work with the clasp, Char,” Evelyn said, adjusting the necklace slightly. “Doesn’t Pres manage his family’s money?”
    â€œâ€˜Independent investor’? I love Preston, but it’s the modern-day equivalent of flâneur or saloniste or something. What rich boys do to amuse themselves.”
    â€œHe’s so smart, though.”
    â€œRight. He is. He’s super smart, but since he doesn’t have to work, it’s like there’s nowhere for that smartness to go.”
    â€œOh, the curse of money.”
    â€œYeah. Tough life. So, G and Ts on the boathouse porch?” Charlotte said, laughing as she slipped on her flip-flops. Evelyn headed down to the boathouse along a side path, Charlotte skipping ahead of her. The sun had finally appeared just in time for golden hour, and it perched on the crest of the mountains across the lake, lighting everything and everyone with Hollywood rose-gold. Preston stood behind a wooden bar in the corner of the porch, mixing drinks. Chrissie had made the mistake of finally deciding to take a sailboat out, but too late, which meant she would miss drinks, which meant Mrs. Hacking would be angrier with her than she already was. The rest were settling into their roles: Preston the attentive host, Nick the caustic friend, Charlotte the tough single girl, Bing the booming frat boy, Mr. Hacking the quiet intellectual, Chrissie the person they were all apparently siding against. And Evelyn, the perfectly pleasing houseguest.
    â€œSo, Evelyn, was the train up with Scot killer?” asked Nick. “I’m impressed you’re still responding to verbal cues.”
    â€œI thought he was your friend,” Evelyn said.
    â€œScot’s the man Nick wants to be, basically,”