Chapter 22
WILLOW
“This was the first New Year’s Eve I’ve spent at home in years,” Jamie says as we sit in the office.
He takes out a couple of more recent florist offers and lays them out on the table between us while I do the same with a decorations catalogue from one of our favorite wedding design specialists. each page displays sewn-in textile samples, so we can get a feel for the real thing.
“I liked it. I didn’t like the not-drinking-champagne part, but I’m glad you drank enough for the both of us,” I reply, running my fingers over a layer of satin with lacy borders. “Oh, this would do well for the napkins.”
Jamie reaches over and touches it, then smiles. “In a light lavender shade.”
“Here,” I say, turning the page, where there’s a sample precisely in that color, complete with a printed view of a wedding table setting to match. “We could pair the lavender with a soft citrus kind of yellow.”
“I didn’t drink that much champagne,” Jamie quips.
“You passed out before midnight.”
“I was a little sad because we couldn’t go out and celebrate in Times Square like we always do,” he admits with a soft pout.
I give him a sad look. “Well, I told you to go by yourself, or call your ex. I’m sure he would’ve taken you.”
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t have been as much fun without you.”
“You’re sweet.”
“Besides, until we find out who’s been trying to kill you, I wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone at the apartment either. Besides, we had our own kind of fun, didn’t we?”
I can’t help but laugh. “We did.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you a whole commission that the Hamiltons are going to love this,” Jamie quips and turns the floral catalogue over for me to see a stupendous display of flower arrangements. “Lavender, citrus blossoms, snapdragons, look at them.”
“They look gorgeous.”
“Paired with the napkins—”
“Which we’d complete with gold filigree rings—”
“Right on the money, sister!” Jamie exclaims. “Want me to whip out the Bohemian crystal glass models?”
“And the Preciosa plating sets, please. The Hamiltons have an insanely generous budget for us to work with.”
Jamie fetches a couple of more catalogues for us to peruse while I snap photos of our selected pages and send them to the printer for physical copies. A large whiteboard is mounted on the western wall, where we build the actual mood board for each of our events.
“We’re lucky they won’t be back from Switzerland until late next week,” I say, adding more printouts to the whiteboard. “They won’t be bothering us with micro-management until then.”
“They’re too busy drowning in mulled wine when they’re not breaking their necks on the ski slopes,” Jamie mutters.
“They don’t actually ski up there.”
“They don’t?” he asks, brows furrowed.
“Cole told me. They just hang around the slopes, take photos with their skis for Instagram, and that’s about it.”
“Rich people.” He shakes his head slowly, then narrows his eyes at me. “Speaking of, where’d you leave it with the Morgan brothers?”
I sigh deeply and go back to my desk for a moment. I made jasmine tea with honey that should be cool enough for me to take a generous sip from while I gather my emotions into a coherent thought.
“They asked me out for New Year’s Eve, but I politely turned them down,” I say. “Toby said they’d try again soon.”
“You love playing hard to get,” he replies with a laugh.
“I just don’t want to give in that easily. I’m still kind of mad about the whole Sheila thing.”
Jamie crinkles his nose. “No, you’re not. You’re scared out of your mind because you’re pregnant and you don’t know how to tell them.”
“Jamie—”
A knock on the office door interrupts our conversation. Sheila walks in without waiting for a response.
“Happy New Year,” she quips with a faux smile on her red lips.
Wrapped in a silvery grey fur coat, she wanders towards the office. Her leather boots have high heels that click across the hardwood.
“What brings you here?” I ask, my tone flat.
“Don’t say to bury the hatchet,” Jamie interjects, giving Sheila a wry smile. “You don’t wear that mink to peace talks, and you know it.”
Sheila laughs lightly and takes her matching leather gloves off. “Leave it to a man with refined taste to notice such details,” she says, then looks at me. “I understand you visited my husband at the hospital the other day, Willow.”
“Bill told you?”
“Oh, you call him Bill, now?” she replies, her tone as dry as the Arizona desert. “He did, yes. In a marriage, we don’t keep secrets from each other.”
I get the subtle, intentional jab, but I am too tired for this crap, so I let her rudeness roll off my back. “We’re kind of busy here, Sheila. State your business, then there’s the door.”
“My, my, you’ve grown bolder,” she scoffs. “I simply want to know what the two of you talked about.”
“Your husband didn’t tell you?” Jamie chuckles dryly. “I thought there were no secrets in a marriage.”
Sheila is not amused and glares at Jamie.
“If Bill didn’t tell you, it’s not my place to tell you. He must’ve had his reasons,” I bluntly reply. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have a wedding to organize.”
Sheila, however, isn’t done here. Her aggression comes off in subtle waves, but it’s there. I see it in her vivid green eyes, in her passive-aggressive smile.
“I don’t take kindly to any woman trying to insert herself into my husband’s close circle,” she says. “Just because it didn’t work out between you and his sons doesn’t mean you should give their father a try.”
“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” I snap, finally losing the last sliver of patience and civility I had left. “That’s your signature move. My apologies. It didn’t work out for you and Cole, and I’m guessing Toby and Asher weren’t even interested, so you slithered your way into Bill’s bed.”
“I advise you to be very careful about what you say to me,” she hisses. “Just because my husband is fond of you doesn’t give you carte blanche to forget who you are and who you’re speaking with.”
“I know exactly who I am, and I never once claimed otherwise. You, on the other hand, have been waging some kind of war against me from the minute Terrence and I got together. You won that battle; congratulations. I didn’t lose anything, truth be told.
But don’t think for a second that I won’t defend myself going forward. ”
She laughs. “So the kitten does have claws.”
“You may be able to control every aspect of Terrence’s life, but you have no hold over me,” I reply, more driven than ever. “I built myself up from the ground. Even when you tried to bring me down, I rose, I fought, I persevered, and here I am, taking on new projects and facing every challenge.”
“New projects, the Hamilton wedding, right?” Sheila says. “I’m friends with Eleanor. I’m sure she’ll—”
“Eleanor Hamilton won’t be interested in anything you might have to say,” I say, cutting her off.
“I know you badmouthed us to other people. You cost us a few contracts, but you won’t be able to do that anymore because even the city’s most elite are now aware of your machinations.
In fact, I have an email from Trudy Van Stratten waiting for my reply. ”
Sheila’s face tightens, which prompts a mischievous snicker out of Jamie.
“You talked smack about the quality of our services, but then Trudy saw how gorgeous Terrence and Katrina’s wedding turned out, poisoning incident notwithstanding, and she decided to come back to us for her daughter’s engagement party,” he informs her.
“You pretty much shot yourself in the foot by giving us your son’s wedding. I assume you did it because you wanted to hold some kind of power over me,” I add. “Well, thanks. That’s one wrong you actually managed to right, though I’m certain it wasn’t your intention.”
She doesn’t say anything. She just stares at me with the coldest eyes and the cruelest smile I’ve ever seen, but I can tell my words have struck a chord somewhere deep inside of her, where all of her insecurities lie.
I raise my chin in defiance. “I’m sorry your scheme to ruin my business didn’t work.
Your attempts to make me feel miserable in my own skin didn’t work either, and neither did your Christmas luncheon reveal.
The guys and I have found our way back to one another.
You don’t need to worry about me coming after Bill.
I’d never take a page out of your book. Now you really should go before I call security. Jamie and I have work to do.”
Sheila isn’t just mad, she is shocked and livid. “Have it your way, Willow. I tried to be civil about it.”
Jamie stifles another laugh. Sheila gives him a deathly glare, but she doesn’t linger for more than a few seconds. The door closes behind her, and we both stay quiet, listening to the sound of her clicking heels as they recede toward the elevator.
“That lady is a fucking nightmare.” Jamie says and exhales sharply. “Honestly, she kind of scares me, Will.”
“She scares me, too. But I couldn’t let her see that; she feeds on it.” I take my seat and a long sip of tea.
“Are you okay?” Jamie asks, looking at me worriedly.
I nod once. “Just shaken. Also, I’m in no mood for that bitch’s drama. Where does she get the nerve to insinuate that I’m the gold digger in this equation?”
“She was projecting like crazy,” Jamie replies and sits on the edge of the table, comfortable beside the wedding catalogues. “But hold on, you just told her you and the guys—”
“Sheila doesn’t need to know we’re still working on the reconciliation part. I just didn’t want her to walk out of here with any kind of satisfaction.”
“She hates your guts.”
I offer a shrug in return. “I wish I understood why.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I thought it was.” He pauses when I lift my brows in question.
“Girl, you are everything she’s always really tried to be but never was: independent, self-made, naturally beautiful, kind, gentle, good.
You’re a good woman, Will. And you started from scratch, just like her.
Hell, you had it worse without your parents, but you rose above it.
You built your own life. She’s relied on marrying for money for hers. ”
“I wish I could feel sorry for her.”
“You don’t have to feel sorry for her,” Jamie replies.
“Sheila made her choices, and you made yours. It’s not your fault she never once tried to better herself.
You did, and it pisses her off. How can you be so successful and happy, if you didn’t whore yourself out to the first rich Hamptons guy you came across? ”
I shudder at the thought. “I assume my having Cole’s affection didn’t sit well with her either.”
“Of course not. What, you think she rejected him?” Jamie laughs.
“I know he’s the one who put an end to it,” I reply with a heavy sigh. “It’s just too much drama, to be honest. I’ve got enough to deal with. The last thing I need is Sheila’s venom on top of everything else.”
“You handled her like a champ.”
“I guess I did.”
It gives me a smidgen of pride, I’ll admit. However, I don’t understand why she keeps poking and prodding me. What’s her endgame? Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe Jamie is right, and Sheila is just projecting her misery onto me because she doesn’t know how else to cope with her own decisions.
I have too much going on to let her bother me.
Like figuring out how to tell three men that one of them is going to be a father.