She shook her head slowly, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Can a mistress be a city? Is this how Valentina felt?”
I had a feeling this wasn’t just about Chicago or my father’s absence. It was about the years of silent suffering. Did Momma know he was full of it too?
I didn’t answer. Instead I reached for the gold necklace around my neck—a nervous habit I’d picked up from her. “Do you want me to help with the seating arrangements?” I offered, trying to steer the conversation to something less personal; something that wouldn’t make the air any more difficult to breathe.
She sighed and followed with a nod. “Yes, that would be lovely. We need to make sure the Wilsons are seated near the front. They’ve been such supporters.”
“Fine, but can we at least get out of this greenhouse? I think I’m starting to wilt.”
Daisy breezed into the greenhouse. “Ugh, this place is a sauna.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered. Daisy looked cool, her cheeks barely flushed compared to mine.
Momma chuckled softly. “You and Daisy can go figure out the invite list. Margot should’ve emailed you the main list. Daisy, be sure to check.”
As we wrapped up in the greenhouse, the heat seemed to seep into my bones, making every movement feel like an effort. The cool air inside the house was a welcome relief, and I breathed in deeply, already feeling better.
“Let’s start with the guest list,” Daisy said, her tone all business again as she settled at the long dining table. She pulled out a neatly organized binder, flipping it open to a page filled with names and notes. “We need to ensure everyone who matters is included. The seating arrangements will follow.”
I watched her, wide-eyed, as she did all the work herself.
“The Hunts, the Mitchells, and the Travers. We need to make sure they’re all seated where they can see and be seen.”
I nodded, typing into my phone as she spoke.
“And what about the LeBlancs?”
“Who?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Can you go tell Sean I’ll be needing him to give me a ride into the city in ten minutes? Momma will probably want Cabela’s to cater.”
“Sure. Where is he?”
“Should be in the garage.”
As I made my way to the garage, I texted Max about the cocktail party, hoping he’d carve out some time in his busy schedule.
Lucifer
I’ll try my best. Can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.
His response was quick, and I chuckled at the name I’d given him for his contact. I should change that, but I wasn’t mature enough to do so.
Me
See what you can do? What if I bribed you with the promises of good food and even better company?
Lucifer
No, but you can bribe me with something else.
Me
I think you’re pushing your luck. Stop trying to find an inch to take.
Lucifer
Why not? You took many from me.
