Page 2 of Breadwinner
Which was exactly what Sarah had told herself she wanted. That was the lie she repeated like a mantra every morning while she pulled her hair back into a tight knot and put on the version of herself no one could crack.
She shrugged out of her coat and handed it to the girl working the coat check in exchange for a ticket. Sarah’s eyes were still on Beth, her body turned instinctively toward her. She didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just let herself watch for a moment. Maybe a second too long...
She’d always loved Beth in green—moss, emerald, sage—but this gold was something else. Sarah had always been aware of Beth’s quiet power, sometimes more aware of it than Beth. But this? This was Beth stepping straight into her power without her.
That thought hurt a little more than she’d like to admit. She forced her eyes away before Beth caught her staring, because the only thing worse than wanting Beth this much was knowing she’d never be allowed to show it.
Sarah took her time crossing the room in the opposite direction of the pair, stopping at the bar to order a bourbon on the rocks. Sipping her drink, she scanned the room, trying to look anywhere but at Beth and Jamie, but still, her eyes were drawn back to them.
They were in their own world, and Sarah couldn’t help but watch how Beth’s hand rested easily against Jamie’s arm, her laughter spilling out freely, eyes bright. Jamie, for her part, was looking at Beth like she had put the stars in the damn sky. “Kill me,” she thought (possibly aloud), as she rolled her eyes.
It had almost been two years. Two long years of watching Beth fall deeper and deeper in love with someone who wasn’t her. Sarah handled everything the same way: by compartmentalizing. By filing away every lingering feeling, every what-if, every quiet ache in a place she could control. Beth was happy. That was what mattered.
She exhaled slowly, tearing her gaze away before she could spiral down a path she had walked a hundred times before. She took the last sip of her drink and placed the empty cup on the bar.
“Sarah Gallagher.”
The voice was steady, smooth like velvet but with the slightest hint of edge—a voice that belonged to someone who was used to people hanging on their every word.
Sarah turned to find herself face-to-face with none other than Cornelia Stanhope.
Even in the dim lighting, Cornelia was impossible to miss. Her long, dark hair was styled meticulously, not a strand out of place, and her eyes, intense but not unkind, were so acutely blue that they looked like steel. Sarah took one look at the sheer blouse, the velvet lapels of Cornelia’s tailored jacket—Saint Laurent, if she had to guess—and the way Cornelia seemed to own her space, and Sarah, who was never caught off guard, felt suddenly unsteady.
They had met before, of course. A year ago, at this very party. It had been a brief exchange. Since then, their paths had crossed a handful of times at charity galas and corporate fundraisers—events where billionaires and the people who worked for them sipped expensive cocktails and made deals over appetizers flown in from around the world.
“It’s Sarah, right?” Cornelia asked, her voice as smooth as her sharp-cut suit. It wasn’t really a question, and Sarah knew that.
Breathe, Sarah, she reminded herself.Use your brain; form words.
She shifted, attempting to pull her posture into something effortless and composed. “That’s right.”
Cornelia handed her a drink. Bourbon. On the rocks. The exact brand she had just finished a glass of. “I noticed your glass was empty,” she said.
Sarah accepted the glass, raising an eyebrow. “Thank you, Cornelia.”
A small smile ghosted over her lips, so brief Sarah might have missed it if she weren’t paying attention.
“Call me Nell, please,” she said, her voice dipping slightly into amusement. “Cornelia is a curse only a man named Thaddeus would give his child.”
That smile . . .
Sarah had never seen her smile before.It was beautiful.
She took a sip of her drink, buying half a second to compose herself. Sarah was not someone who was left speechless. Ever. But for some reason, standing here, watching Nell watch her, she felt disoriented in the best way.
“Alright, then. Nell it is.”
“How’s Lily doing with her training?” Nell asked, tilting her head slightly, and Sarah was momentarily mesmerized by how her dark brown hair moved as one fluid sheet. “Has she committed to college gymnastics yet? I imagine she’s interested in competing in the National Collegiate Athletic Association, especially after that showing at the Olympics last summer.”
Sarah blinked. It was reasonable to expect that Nell would know of Lily, given Nell’s involvement in the world of women’s sports, but still, such an intimate question about Lily had disarmed her.
She smoothly covered her surprise, slipping into the confidence she wore like armor.
“We’re still a few years away from college, thankfully. Right now, it’s business as usual for Lily.” She smirked slightly, swirling her bourbon. “Although, between you and me, I’m hoping she picks Stanford.”
Nell hummed as if considering. “Good choice. Strong program. Strong academics.”
Sarah watched her, curious. There was something about how Nell steered a conversation—so subtle and effortless that most people wouldn’t notice it happening. Sarah noticed, though, because Sarah noticed everything, and she could tell that Nellwas just like her—the type of woman who liked to be in control.Sarah wasn’t bothered by it. She found herself intrigued.