That would be a sight. Last Jamie checked Nala’s girlfriend was a “professional hobbyist” in the gaming world, whereas Etta hadn’t picked up a controller until she started getting serious with Jamie. Even then, she still sucked whenever she played.
Jamie remained at the table for a few more minutes, staring at the place settings and debating what she should wear for the luncheon the next day. She had a feeling Adele would later text her with some flawless suggestions. Whether Jamie felt okay taking such suggestions was another matter.
I do it for Etta.She stood, hoisting her purse strap over her shoulder as she turned and headed out. Jamie glanced at her engagement ring, twinkling in the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria. I do it because I love her and I want her to succeed. What is it to me? I have no…
No, she couldn’t go there. She couldn’t remind herself that she had no other friends, no ambitions, and nothing to put her name to. For as long as she would have her name, anyway.
Chapter 29
The Winston Estate was one of the largest, most secluded in the area. Few had the privilege of having an audience there. Appearances were everything, as had been drilled into Jamie’s head that past week, so there was no question that the four of them would pile into Etta’s recently washed and waxed limo and roll up at exactly a quarter ‘til when they were expected. There was no “fashionably late” when someone like Hyacinth Winston was involved.
She was the widow of Frederick Winston III, the grandson of a banker who made his first million in the early 20th century before turning his eye to investment properties. The Winstons didn’t own as many tracts of land and businesses today, having sold most of them off for exorbitant prices over the following decades, but they still had their name on many buildings in the region. Not just Winston Academy, either. They had wings at universities, hospitals, real estate offices, and even dedications at City Hall. Of course, there was Winston National, now known as The First Bank, which continued to be helmed by Hyacinth’s son, Frederick Winston IV. Little Winston V was only eight, but he already spent most of his weekends doing homework in his father’s office, learning the ropes as he prepared todon the mantle of patriarch one far away day from now.
Hyacinth, meanwhile, was the matriarch and would continue to be so until the day she died. At nearly eighty, she was still shrewd, sophisticated, and willing to do whatever it took to continue her family’s name.Now there’s a wife to aspire to be. Hyacinth was more of an arranged match than love. Her parents and Frederick’s knew each other well and heavily pressured their children to marry. It worked out for them. Hyacinth’s ability to see trends in the stock market and other financial institutions complemented her husband’s charisma and ability to rouse workers into productive fervors. They were the first members of the family to become billionaires, and unlike anyone in that limo heading deep into the countryside, they had generations to perfect the lifestyle. Even Etta sweated a little once she saw the three layers of security outside the main gate.We only have one guard at ours.
The Winston Estate had more of the looks and means of a country club than the one Etta belonged to. Fields of freshly cut green grass sprawled around them, meticulously lined with rose bushes, evergreen trees, and tracks of water that meandered into larger streams. After they passed through the security of the inner gate, they came upon the mansion – the biggest in the county.
Thirty-eight bedrooms. Who knew how many baths and half-baths. Fountains gilded in gold and gardens of the rarest blooms that could grow in the area. Jamie read that Hyacinth dabbled in cross-breeding flowers and boasted petals that could not be seen anywhere else in the world. Jamie saw some of them now, outside the tinted windows of her fiancée’s limousine.
“Everyone on their best behavior,” Adele muttered. She brought her assistant as her date.Guess Etta was right about them.“We’re creeping close to late by Hyacinth’s standards.”
Adele was the only one who had personally met Hyacinth before. Not even Etta, who was about to ask for millions of dollars ininvestment money, had met Mrs. Winston in the flesh. That was Adele’s job. She had taken this deal as far as she could on her own, and now it was everyone’s job to follow through on what she had established. Jamie had heard all of the stories so far, some of them not until they got in the car and started the long drive. “She’s had men killed, you know.” “First Ladies since Betty Ford have come to her for style and decorum advice.” “She has rarely left her palace since 1986, but that doesn’t stop her from appearing in half the papers at any given moment.” “She has seen every layer of bullshit possible. I nearly pissed myself when we were introduced.”
If Hyacinth Winston was expressing enough interest in Thompson-Coleman to invite them for lunch, then she had a lot of faith in them already. To want to meet Jamie as well meant she was taking a personal interest. Jamie didn’t have asthma, nor any panic disorders, but her chest tightened as they rounded the palace, following the hand signals of personnel telling the driver where to park.
A butler awaited them. Adele and Etta got out first, the latter turning to help Jamie out. The warm breeze on this warmer day almost made her sweat. Not today. She was determined to show no weakness of any kind in front of Hyacinth. The woman could literally live in the fires of Hell and Jamie would walk in wearing polar bear fur and not sweat.
“Etta Coleman and Adele Thompson!” the butler cried into the massive foyer. At first, Jamie thought she heard an echo, then realized that other butlers were calling out, one after the other, until the announcement finally met Hyacinth’s ear – wherever she was. As soon as they were given the motion to head inside, Jamie looped her arm around Etta’s, willing herself to walk in equal step with her longer strides.
She wore a white sundress speckled in a daisy motif. The pale yellow flower petals accentuated her fair skin while the dark green stems matched the sash Adele tied around Jamie’s waist before they left home. Her shoes were feminine but not impractical – they didn’t want to risk Jamiestumbling or making too much noise when she walked. While it was not uncommon for women to show exposed arms, both Jamie and Adele wore sheer sweaters to give the illusion of modesty. Jamie wore no jewelry aside from diamond studs and her engagement ring.
Her hair was the hardest thing to decide. Adele always wore her hair up, and while they decided that would be a good look for Jamie, they didn’t want to have the same style. They decided to leave it down, but with her more errant strands pulled back and pinned behind the ears. Etta merely had to wear one of her best suits and make sure her hair was perfectly combed.
It was a substantial walk from the foyer to the atrium Hyacinth awaited them. Two butlers led them, their form, their stature impeccable and reminding Jamie that she had to walk straight as well.Remember, don’t say anything unless spoken to.Normally, such a suggestion from Adele would have offended her. Yet Jamie was relieved. She didn’t want to speak. She was freaked out enough as it was. It would be a miracle if she could eat their three-course lunch.The atrium was a conservatory built before Jamie was born. Green plants grew where it should have been impossible – indeed, the humidity was a bit much. Yet at Hyacinth’s age, she probably appreciated it.
Ah, yes, Hyacinth Winston.
She sat at the head of a table, wrapped in a fur stole and sporting thin red feathers in her silvery hair. Her wrinkles spoke of great experience. Her set gaze, however, nearly bowled Jamie over the moment their eyes met. The woman was probably short in stature, but sitting on her throne in the conservatory… it was hard to tell.
“Ms. Coleman and Ms. Thompson,” the head butler announced. The party of four gathered at the other end of the rounded table. Five place settings were already put out. “Your noon luncheon has arrived, madam.”
“I see that.” Curt, surly, and not giving a single fuck. That’s whatJamie expected, and that’s what she got. “Bring them forward.”
Etta went first, taking Hyacinth’s extended hand and kissing it softly. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Madam Winston.” Always the seductive charmer, Etta had no problem fitting in when she had to. “Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Jamie Joy.”
Jamie met those beady black eyes again. There wasn’t a bit of milk in them. Even if Hyacinth’s eyesight had degenerated with age, she still saw and observed everything.
“Madam,” Jamie said, as sweetly as she could. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Hopefully, that would be the only thing she had to say.
Hyacinth paid her little mind. Yet in that single interaction, Jamie saw the judgment firmly ruled without further defense.“I see. Leave it to someone with no good breeding to decide to marry a pretty thing like you. If she were my daughter, I would have rather she marry the most dire of good breeding boys than the sweetest thing like you. Do you think your youth will last forever? Do you know what will happen the moment you get the slightest bit old? She’ll leave you for someone else. At least if she cheats on a good match, you can still keep your dignity. What will you have? Nothing. You will have nothing.”
Jamie was happy to step back and let Adele go next. She introduced her assistant and they subsequently sat down for lunch.
“This is a lovely tablecloth,” Adele said. The fine cotton was covered in handstitched lace creating intricate patterns that were both hypnotic and stunning. “Is it French?”
“Why wouldn’t it be French?” Hyacinth huffed. “Of course it’s French. Handstitched by Pierre Beauvau, of the Beauvau family going back to the 16th Century. My mother acquired it when I was a little girl. It’s priceless.”
“Naturally.” Adele accepted the wine making its way around the table. “It’s absolutely exquisite. I’ll have to check in with the Beauvaus the nexttime I’m in France. I have the dowdiest tablecloth at the moment.”
