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My parents would disown me, no question. No hesitation. They’d cut their hand off before the infection could run any deeper. They’d already threatened it once.
A brisk knock on my hotel room door pulled me out of my thoughts. “I have to go. It was nice catching up.” I said it, but I wasn’t completely sure if I meant it.
“Text me later.”
“I will.” Yet another one of those thoughts—I said it, but I wasn’t sure if I meantit.
I padded across the suite in my slippers to the front door, exiting my bedroom and coming out into the sitting area and attached kitchenette. I rarely used it; it was far easier to order room service. It felt a bit like a small apartment, under the security of the valet holding my car hostage and Sumner’s listening ear next door. Sometimes I was surprised my parents gave up their penthouse suite to me, but I always wondered if they thought their nicest room would make up for the fact that they wanted me around as little as possible.
I didn’t bother checking through the peephole. There were only two people who would come without announcing themselves.
“Good morning,” I greeted my mother’s shadowy figure as she stood in the hallway. She wore a pair of linen pants and a loose-fitting sweater. The outfit itself made her look much younger than her fifty-nine years old. That, and the work she’d had done. “I wondered when you were going to show up.”
“Your father convinced me to calm down before I came to visit you,” she returned, showing herself in and shutting the door behind her. I’d already crossed my room to the settee, lounging against it. My outfit was much like hers—linen pants with a cashmere sweater. It made me want to take it off and throw it into the trash. “And I was far too exhausted to deal with you yesterday. Believe it or not, Margot, you’re not always the most important person in the world.”
The quip was snotty, but easy to deflect. I used to spend nights waiting for her to come find me. Even if I had just been waitingfor her to yell, I’d look forward to whenever she sought me out, like a pathetic child waiting for Santa Claus. She never came. I stopped waiting. “Glad you could enjoy your Sunday without me, then,” I told her.
“I heard you and Mr. Pennington went out for brunch yesterday.”
Eyes and ears everywhere all the time. “Mm.”
“What did you talk about?”
“I have to report every single conversation to you, too?” I rubbed a finger into my temple. “Ask Mr. Pennington. With how much you’re paying him, I’m sure he’ll sing like a canary.”
I wasn’t sure what my mother was afraid we’d discussed, but in truth, our conversation had been simple. Normal. Talking about Sumner’s collegiate, his move east. Anyone else would’ve found the conversation boring, but the mundane details… intrigued me. It was interesting to hear about someone’s life without them attempting to glamorize it. Sumner hadn’t been trying to impress me; he’d been being honest.
His easy honesty still left me a little unsettled.
“How is Ms. Nancy?” my mother asked.
If I hadn’t wanted to recap my conversation with Sumner, I surely did not want to talk about my visit with Nancy. “Fine.”
“Yvette said she’s declining. Her doctor doesn’t think it’ll be much longer, with the remaining function of her heart. Quite the perfect time for you to come back to town. Try to stop in there more often, Margot.” My mother’s voice was thoughtful, though I didn’t turn to look at her expression. “Allyson Jennings has been going overthere more often lately. We need to remind Ms. Nancy how you’re her favorite.”
“So I can beat Ms. Jennings out from top spot in Nancy’s will, you mean.” My lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “Yes, good thing you brought me back to Addison when you did. Would’ve been a shame if Nancy died before you could secure her fortune. Could you imagine if she left the land Massey Suites sits on to Ms. Jennings? How unfortunate would that be.”
My mother entered my peripheral. “Everything is such a joke to you, isn’t it? I don’t know when you’re going to stop acting so childish.” And with that, she launched into it all. “Kissing the staff at the fundraiser? You’re twenty-two, Margot, not twelve. I know you’re intentionally trying to create problems for your father and me, but to be so impulsive just isn’t acceptable.”
I know I had signed up for it, and even yesterday, I’d been ready to pass the bickering back and forth, but now, I found myself wishing I could be anywhere in front of her. I was suddenly and abruptly too tired to pick an argument.
“I can’t even begin to try to get into your head, either. What did you think kissing a worker would accomplish? Were youtryingto get him to call the police?”
I hadn’t done it for a police report, but now I almost wished he had—would Aaron Astor have wanted to marry me so desperately then? Probably. If the man was willing to fall in love at first sight and propose through his parents without having ever met me in person, he didn’t seem like the type easily swayed by a rap sheet.
“Knowing you,” my mother went on, still standing inthe middle of the room. It was as if she planned on running blocker if I tried to escape. “You probably just wanted to get everyone else to grasp their pearls.”
“People don’t say that phrase unironically.”
“Margot.”
My mere exasperated name felt like a small victory in that moment. A tiny, little smile tugged at my mouth, but it dropped back into place. “You said so yourself, I’m impulsive. Ms. Jennings said I hadn’t kissed a man, and there was one ripe for the kissing.”
“Or maybe you were hoping I’d change my mind about Aaron Astor.”
My finger, which had still been rubbing circles into my temple, stilled. “I didn’t kiss Sumner because I was hoping you’d change your mind,” I said to my mother now, finally looking up at her. “I know how important the business deal with the Astors is to you.”
“No, you were just hopingAaronwould change his mind.”