Of course, just as Harper was thinking uncharitable thoughts about her, Whitney made her presence known. Or maybe it was because she hadn’t been getting the attention she felt she deserved.
Holding up her glass, she waggled it in the air and called out, “Evan, darling, I need another margarita.” She continued texting with one hand.
“I’ll get it,” Jeremy said.
Just as he did at work, if there was something someone needed, her brother jumped to do it. Whitney was the only one who hadn’t said a word to him, so maybe he felt he needed to prove himself to her.
Whitney pulled her sunglasses down to look at Harper over the rims. It was quite possibly the first time the woman had made eye contact with her. “Can he do it?”
Harper tightened her lips for just a second. Be polite. “Yes, he’s perfectly capable of pouring you a margarita out of a pitcher.”
“All right then.” Whitney pushed her sunglasses to the bridge of her nose and handed the glass to Jeremy. “Not too much ice,” she said with a false note of sweetness in her tone.
But Harper doubted there was an ounce of sweetness in her. Yet there had to be a story as to why Evan Collins was even with this woman.
“I put the pitcher of margaritas in the fridge,” Evan told Jeremy. It wasn’t the first time Whitney had demanded a refresher.
“Thanks, Evan,” Jeremy said in his overloud outdoor voice.
Harper felt Will’s eyes on her and glanced up to see him smiling at her. The rest of the guys had gone quiet. Even Noah had dropped down on his butt in the water. Almost as if Whitney’s voice were a sponge that sucked all the fun out of the air.
Thankfully, conversation resumed as Jeremy skipped to the bar. Sebastian pushed up from his seat and kicked off his deck shoes. He hunkered down at the edge of the kiddie pool and asked Noah, “How about a swim?”
“Yay!” Noah crowed.
Each of the Mavericks had been taking turns throughout the day teaching Noah to swim. He could tread water for at least a minute, and he didn’t panic if his head went under. Harper remembered teaching Jeremy to swim when he was a little boy, and she smiled as Will lifted Noah out of the small pool and secured his water wings.
No question about it, he would make an awesome dad. And if she’d been able to pay attention to anything but Will, his laughter, his smile, then maybe she might have noticed Jeremy returning at a run with Whitney’s cocktail in his hand. She looked over at him just as his foot caught on a flagstone, and the tall glass lurched, splashing the contents all over Whitney.
“Look what you did!” Whitney’s glare skewered Jeremy. “This swimsuit is one of a kind couture!”
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy whispered, clutching the plastic margarita glass to his chest, getting his shirt all wet. He backed away, out of the line of fire.
Whitney turned on Harper. “Sorry isn’t good enough.”
“It was an accident,” Harper said. She wouldn’t humiliate Jeremy by apologizing for a simple accident. Though later, when they were alone, she’d remind him about running with anything in his hand. “I’ll be happy to pay for it if it’s ruined.” Even if it was likely worth more than she made in a month.
“You said he could handle it,” Whitney snapped.
“Whitney, enough!” Evan stepped in between them. “It was an accident. Jeremy didn’t mean any harm. So back off. Now.”
Whitney turned her glare on her husband. Her nostrils flared, and her lips turned ugly with tension. “If my own husband could have bothered to get me a drink, then none of this would have happened.”
Evan stepped forward, his feet right along the edge of a flagstone as if it were a battle line drawn between them. Paige jumped in before either combatant crossed it.
“It’ll wash out, Whit,” she said, in a mediator’s tone. A psychologist, Paige was pleasant and chatty in a let’s-fill-any-awkward-silences kind of way. “I’ve got that book that tells how to get out just about any stain. Although I don’t think margarita mix even stains.”
“Fine,” Whitney snapped. “You can wash it for me.”
“Whitney.” Paige said her sister’s name softly, but firmly. “I think it’s time for us to thank Will for a great barbecue and head home.”
Harper itched to take her down a peg—a hundred pegs would be even better—and she was glad to see Paige stand up to her sister.
Anger lines stretched past the frames of Whitney’s sunglasses. She tossed her cell phone into the bag beside her chair. “Good idea. I can’t wait to clean up and forget about this whole day.” Whitney threw on the see-through flowered cover-up that matched her swimsuit and slipped her feet into high-heeled sandals.