The Darlington exuded elegance and luxury year-round, but in December, it took on a special kind of splendour. The holiday decorations—the grand Christmas tree in the lobby and the countless tiny fairy lights, which took many hours of meticulous work to arrange—totally transformed the space. I had always loved this time of year at the hotel. A wave of melancholy washed over me as I considered the possibility that this might be the last time I saw it like this. The future of The Darlington was still hanging in the balance. I would do everything in my power to save it, but there was only so much one man could do.
The ballroom was also lavishly decorated. Lively voices filled the space, mixing with the live music. A digital display above the stage showed the donations. The figure currently stood at £5,423,050—not a record high, but still an impressive sum.
A waiter approached me with a glass of champagne, which I politely declined. I was trying to stay sober in every sense of the word. I made my way to the bar and grabbed a glass of water before mingling with the guests.
The attendees were a colourful mix of high society, including celebrities, politicians, aristocrats, and a few influencers Vivian had insisted on inviting. I spotted Aliza Malik and Fiona Harrison,whose videos Olivia enjoyed watching. I introduced myself to them, but quickly excused myself to continue shaking hands and encouraging people to donate. Occasionally, someone would ask me about Kate, but I avoided the topic, using the question as an opportunity to excuse myself.
The ballroom gradually filled until every table and chair was occupied. Last week, Rakesh and I had made some last-minute changes to the seating arrangement, and as a result, it was hardly noticeable that this year’s gala had a third fewer attendees. The dance floor was larger, and we had added an extra bar. Everything was going to plan. I was rarely fully at ease at events like these, but I felt myself loosen up a little.
“Henry!”
My shoulders tensed again. So much for loosening up. I turned to face Vivian as she strode towards me in high heels. She was wearing a green suit that perfectly matched the branding of this year’s gala.
“It’s time for the family photo. Come on!”
Her commanding tone left no room for debate. The sooner I got the photo over with, the sooner I could start avoiding my parents for the rest of the night.
I followed Vivian as she led me to one of the many photographers documenting the event. My parents were already there, posing for photos.
My mum’s eyes lit up when she saw me. “Henry, you look wonderful.”
I kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks. So do you.”
“Did you see who’s here tonight?” she asked with a smug smile that turned my stomach to ice. I had already spotted Daphne Walsh in the crowd and suspected my mum was trying to set meup with her. Although she didn’t know the details of what had happened between Kate and me, she hadn’t failed to notice that we’d broken up.
I feigned ignorance. “No, who?”
“Daphne!” My mum clapped her hands gleefully. “You absolutely must ask her to dance later. I’m sure she’d be delighted—even if your date back then didn’t work out. Anything could happen!”
“I don’t think so.”
Her smile faded. “Why not? She’s a great woman. Pretty. Smart. Educated. And after that homeless girl—”
“Kate,” I corrected.
She rolled her eyes, as if I was being pedantic for insisting she use Kate’s name. “Now that Kate is no longer in the picture, it’s time you started looking for a woman who’s more suitable—both for you and for this family.”
“I’m not interested.” Not in Daphne nor in any other woman. My feelings for Kate hadn’t changed just because she was gone. It would probably take an eternity to get over her—which, truthfully, I didn’t want to do. On the contrary, I wanted her back. She was a truly special person, something my mum had never been able to see.
“Henry...”
To my surprise, my dad came to my defence. “Leave the lad alone. He doesn’t want to date Daphne. Anyway, he’d be doing us all a favour if he focussed on the hotel for the next few months instead of on his love life.”
I would decide what my priorities were, but I let my dad’s comment slide, because I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. And because some battles just weren’t worth fighting.
Vivian returned with Ethan in tow. He held a cocktail glass in his hand, which Vivian practically had to wrestle away from him.
“Stand next to Henry,” she ordered, pushing Ethan towards me. “And smile, please. You’re thrilled to be here tonight.”
“I guess so,” my brother mumbled, smelling strongly of alcohol.
I wrinkled my nose. “How are you already drunk?”
He shrugged. “It’s my god-given talent.”
“Pull yourself together,” my dad hissed through clenched teeth, forcing a smile. The photographer had already started taking pictures, even though it must have been clear this wasn’t a conversation we wanted captured for posterity.
“I wouldn’t have to pull myself together if this gala weren’t so fucking dull.”
