I gave him a nod as I handed over my damp coat. “Thanks. I won’t be long.”
He didn’t respond, but I hadn’t expected him to. The staff here made a point of staying out of the members’ business, but I was sure we still provided them with plenty of entertainment. As he bowed with my coat slung over his arm, I sighed softly, wondering if the pomp and pageantry were really necessary, but before I could tell him not to worry about any of that with me, he’d straightened up again and disappeared, presumably to tuck my coat in among its much more expensive peers.
Inhaling a deep breath, I took the moment alone to brace myself for the meeting with my mom. She was a lot sometimes.
I slowly made my way to the dining room. The faint scent of polished wood and buttery scones clung to the air, lending an old-world charm to the hallways that made me feel both pampered and conspicuously out of place.
As much as I understood why Mom loved it here, I hardly ever came if I could help it. It reminded me far too much of everything I wasn’t. Everything she’d hoped I would be when she’d found out she was having a little girl.
The carpeted hallway opened up into a dining room that always made me feel like I’d walked back in time, to an era when noble ladies had gotten all dressed up in their finest garb to take tea every afternoon before returning to their aristocratic duties.
Or something like that. Something that made it abundantly clear that women like me did not belong here.
When I walked in, my mom was already seated at a table right next to a rain-dappled window. She wore a smile like armor, an expression perfected over decades of hosting luncheons, teas, and charity galas. These days, she wore her grayish blonde hair in a short pixie cut. Her emerald green eyes glittered like diamonds in the weak sunlight filtering in through the window.
“Aurelia, darling!” she cooed as I approached her. “I am just thrilled about your decision to resign. Congratulations, baby. It’s marvelous that you’ve finally taken control of your life.”
I returned her smile, but it was tight. Insincere. Not because I didn’t appreciate her enthusiasm and support. I did, but my mother had always seen me as this perfect little doll, an heiress who was wasting her time trying to build a career. Obviously, she would be thrilled by this move, and also completely oblivious to how much it hurt that I’d had to do it.
“Thank you, Mother.” I brushed a kiss to her cheek and slid into the seat across from her, slinging my purse over my chair and wondering how this place was so full despite the storm last night.
Women chatted at every table in the room. Servers bustled around with trays of champagne and pastries and whatever else had been ordered. My mom drew my attention back to her when she slid her forearms—not her elbows, only a section of her forearms—onto the table and leaned forward a bit.
She beamed at me, clearly not having noticed the subtle edge to my tone. “I was so surprised when Daddy told me he’d received your letter of resignation.”
Oh, so he did get it, then. That’s news to me.
I still hadn’t heard anything from him or my brothers about it. It had gotten to the point where I’d assumed they’d foundsomeone new to make their coffee and had forgotten I had ever even existed.
“We’re beyond pleased, of course,” she continued, letting out a sweet and airy chuckle. “It was the right decision, darling.”
“Thanks,” I said, glancing at a waitress who wordlessly poured me a cup of tea from the pot on the table and disappeared. “It felt like the right time.”
As I picked up my tea, I caught a flicker of triumph in her eyes and immediately I felt about two inches tall, like I was still just her favorite little social project and nothing more.
She reached over and patted my hand, her gaze sweeping over me like she was taking stock. “Itwasthe right time, my dear. Especially with all your brothers at the company as of next week. Let the men handle it. They’re more than capable and we’ll have lots to do over the next couple months with Christmas coming up. It’s always such a busy time on the social calendar.”
I sipped my tea, the delicate china warming my fingers, and tried not to squirm under her scrutiny. Sometimes, she made me feel like a high school student in a tiara, a girl who was still learning how to curtsy or smile politely at the right moment.
My mother loved me. I knew that, and our relationship wasn’t all bad. It was just that sitting at lunch with her while the rest of San Francisco defrosted, I truly felt like I was back in freshman year, being trained to join the ranks of the social elite.
“It’s going to be lovely having you around to help me out this year,” she said, once again not noticing my discomfort or my internal outrage over the fact that she’d already skipped right past my actual resignation. “Oh, I’ve been longing for this day to come.”
I forced another smile. “So have I, Mom.”
Just for an entirely different reason. For me, this was about independence. Finally getting the recognition I deserved. Forher, it was about having her daughter join her on the social scene, just like the princess she’d always wanted.
Our waitress brought out smoked salmon, perfectly buttered croissants, and tiny desserts that seemed to have been designed more for show than for eating. With each bite, I became increasingly aware of the invisible strings that had always guided me.
Mom chattered on about social calendars, upcoming charity events, and a luncheon she insisted I simply must attend because it was “perfect for networking with the right people.”
Perfect. The word rang in my ears like a bell, reminding me that no matter how independent I felt, I was still navigating a world meticulously designed for women like her. Women who knew that their places were in clubs like this and behind the scenes at fundraisers, not in the boardroom.
I closed my eyes for a moment, pretending to be appreciating the croissant melting in my mouth, and let my mind drift to Harrison. I could see his teasing smirk in my mind’s eye, hear his voice when he was opening up to me last night, and it made me remember that there was a world outside of teacups and polite conversation.
When I opened my eyes, I smiled just enough for Mom to think I was enjoying our time together. On the inside though, I was letting the knowledge of my plans with Harrison soothe my soul.
Mom leaned back in her chair, still talking a mile a minute even as she glanced at her perfectly polished nails. “That reminds me, our Christmas Ball is going to be the social event of the season this year. I expect you to be there, of course.”
