Elaine glides in, somber-faced household staff following with fresh wine. She’s changed into a navy sheath dress.
“Ladies, I see you’ve met Harley,” she says, taking her seat at the head of the table. “Skyler’s current companion.”
Current. Like I’m a temporary condition that will eventually clear up.
“She works with troubled youth,” she continues, her tone suggesting I might be one myself. “She’s joining our fundraiser committee as part of the family’s inclusion initiatives.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I’m here because Skyler asked me to make an effort with his mother.
“We were just about to discuss the silent auction items,” says a woman whose cosmetic procedures have left her face in a permanent state of mild surprise.
But before we can dive into charitable matters, the door opens again.
And there she is.
I immediately recognize her from the photos I’ve seen—the ones Elaine “accidentally” leaves visible when I visit. Amanda Leigh Davis. Skyler’s ex-fiancée. The woman who, according to Elaine’s frequent reminders, was “perfect” for Skyler.
You know, after Amanda changed her entire self to fit the Thompson mold.
She’s even more intimidating in person. Tall, blonde, and polished to a high shine in a cream-colored suit that somehow looks both professional and effortlessly sexy. Her green eyes scan the room and land on me with laser precision.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone,” she says, her voice melodic and confident. “Court ran long.”
Of course, she’s a lawyer. Probably defending puppies and orphans pro bono when she’s not being genetically perfect.
“Amanda!” Elaine practically glows with delight. “We’re so pleased you could make it. You remember everyone, of course. And this is Harley Matthews, Skyler’s…friend.”
Friend. I’ve been downgraded in the last five minutes.
Amanda’s smile is practiced perfection as she extends a manicured hand toward me. “Harley! I’ve heard so much about you.”
I doubt that, unless “so much” means “the bare minimum Elaine was forced to acknowledge.”
“Likewise,” I respond, meeting her grip with equal pressure.
“How fortunate that you could join us,” Amanda continues, taking the seat directly opposite me. “I know how demanding social work can be. Skyler always admired people who choose purpose over profit.”
The casual mention of Skyler—the implied intimacy of knowing his thoughts and values—lands exactly as intended. A subtle reminder that she knew him first, knew him longer.
“Yes, Skyler’s very supportive of my work,” I reply, emphasizing the present tense. “He actually volunteers with some of our youth programs now.”
Amanda’s perfect eyebrows lift slightly. “Does he? That’s new. During our time together, he was so focused on the family business.”
Our time together. A verbal photograph placed deliberately on the table between us.
“As he should be,” Elaine says.
“People change,” I say with a shrug that I hope appears more casual than it feels. “It’s one of the things I love about him. He has a willingness to grow and try new things.”
“Speaking of Skyler”—Amanda leans forward slightly, her voice dropping to a confidential tone—“how is he handling the merger? He was so stressed about it when we last spoke.”
When we last spoke. When was that, exactly?
I maintain my smile while my brain races.
“He’s managing it brilliantly,” I say, though I have no idea if that’s true. “But we try not to bring work stress home. Life balance is important to us.”
“Oh, I remember trying that approach.” Amanda laughs lightly. “But you know how he gets when he’s deep in a project. Does he still work until three a.m. and forget to eat?”
