He reaches for his wine and misses the stem by an inch. I slide the glass closer without looking. He doesn’t notice the correction, only that the problem is solved.
“You’ve always been so good,” he says quietly, like it’s a compliment meant to land deep.
Elena rolls her eyes. “She’s ever-present, that’s a skill of its own.”
Bianca smirks. “I don’t know why anyone would try to be his favorite. I have and always will be.”
Everyone laughs; I pretend to.
When dessert comes, Bianca leans forward. “So. Are you still planning to meet with the board after the New Year?”
I nearly drop my fork. She knows nothing about Fairfax.
“Yes,” my father says immediately. “Of course.”
“No offense Sof, but I saw Mitsi Muldoon today and her father,” a board member, “Is concerned. You’re just not Arthur Fairfax. Never will be.”
“Sofie is doing a great job,” Dad defends me. Again, I’m shocked.
“They’ve been antsy,” Elena adds lightly. “They’ve known Sofie for years, but feel like she’s,” she pauses. “Well, like she’s getting too big for her britches.”
“No reason to worry,” he says, then hesitates.
“Daddy,” Bianca whispers, as if I won’t hear whatever insult she’s about to hurl due to her tone. “If you need Elena or me to take over some tasks so you can enjoy semi-retirement, we would both gladly do so.”
I huff, and they both look at me.
Elena tilts her head, smiling like she’s doing me a favor. “You know, Sofie, if you’re ever overwhelmed, you could always… pivot.”
Pivot? I almost choke on my wine.
Bianca nods eagerly. “Exactly. You don’t have to do all of this.” She gestures vaguely at the table, the room, my father. “There are other paths.”
I look between them. Keep my voice light.
“Oh?” I ask. “Like what?”
Elena brightens. “Well, with the right degree, doors open.”
I set my glass down carefully. “True. Remind me again what yours were in?”
A beat.
Bianca laughs. “Oh my god. You know this.”
“I want to hear it,” I say.
Elena waves a hand. “International Lifestyle Management.”
That is not a real thing. It was, however, an extremely expensive thing.
“And you?” I ask Bianca.
She shrugs. “Luxury Brand Communications.”
From a school that no longer exists.
“Right,” I say, nodding. “And how are those working out?”
