Chapter 10
ten
. . .
Emilia
It was officially the first of December, and this time of year was my absolute favorite. The crisp chill in the air, the first layer of white powder covering the mountains in the distance, making them look like a painting.
I’d gone out riding this morning with Lulu, Eloise, and Henley.
It was becoming our routine. Lulu surprised us and brought a bottle of champagne and orange juice in her backpack today, and we’d sipped mimosas down by the water, all bundled up together.
And then we’d taken the horses on a trail around the mountain.
We talked and laughed, and they still offered to forgo the Chadwicks’ family dinner on my behalf.
I’d never had such loyal friends in my life.
I’d insisted they go to dinner, as I’d never asked them to ban pickleball or Sunday dinners. But I appreciated the loyalty.
Bridger had yet to apologize, and I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since he’d sent a toilet to my house. I’d resigned myself to the fact that I probably wouldn’t ever get that apology, and my friends needed to get back on their routine with their families.
I, on the other hand, was just hoping for a civil dinner tonight with my own family.
Jacoby was home, and my mother would be asking him endless questions about his new partnership at the law firm.
My brother was what you’d call the golden boy in our family.
His girlfriend, Shana, a makeup artist and model, had just moved in with him in New York.
At least the conversation would revolve around them and their lives in the Big Apple, so I wouldn’t be getting hammered about Vintage Interiors, which sadly hadn’t gotten any calls yet.
I’d invested the money this week to run an ad in the Rosewood River Review , the paper owned by my family. It had taken a chunk of my savings to afford a month-long ad, since I’d paid full price.
No favors for me, thank you very much.
Not that anyone had offered.
I walked in the front door of the home I grew up in, then hung my long, heavy dress coat in the closet. It was an older ranch house, decorated the same as it was when I was a kid. I was dying to update it, but my mother was not in a hurry to do any renovations, so I’d stopped pushing years ago.
The smell of garlic and warm bread wafted in the air, and music played through the speaker system.
“Hey,” I said as I entered the kitchen. “I’m here.”
Jacoby turned, his face lighting up when he saw me.
We’d always been close, but he was busy, and we didn’t get to see one another often these days, ever since he’d graduated from law school and moved to New York.
He hadn’t come home for Thanksgiving, as he and Shana had gone to Maui for a beach vacation instead.
“Look at you, sis.” He pulled me in for a hug.
I pulled back, and Shana hurried over to hug me. She was probably close to five nine, which made me feel very short, even in my heels. Her blonde hair was tied back in a fancy chignon, and she was absolutely stunning.
My mother was always salivating over these two, because they looked like they’d just come from a photo shoot. My brother was a few inches taller than Shana, and he and I shared the same dark brown hair and blue eyes.
“Emilia, it’s so lovely to see you. We’ve got so much to catch up on,” she said.
“She’s been dying for you to get here,” Jacoby said, just as Gram smiled at me from where she was sitting at the kitchen table.
I moved behind her, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her cheek. I loved my grandmother, and I hated that she wasn’t getting around much these days.
My mother walked over to hug me, looking me up and down slowly as she took in my emerald green velvet dress.
I’d splurged on this one, as I was going to wear this in the photo shoot I was doing next week to get a profile picture for my new business.
And by “photo shoot,” I meant that I’d be getting all dressed up, and Lulu would be taking my photos.
She was good with the camera, and I needed something that looked somewhat professional to use on social media and my website.
My mother didn’t host dinners often, and when she did once or twice a year, she asked everyone to dress up. It was just her thing.
“This looks lovely. It fits you like a glove. I swear, no one would ever know that you don’t diet,” she whispered and then kissed my cheek.
My internal voice growled in response.
Always a dig wrapped up in a compliment.
Backhanded compliments were my mother’s gift.
“Thank you, Mom.”
“This girl is too skinny. Stop with the diet talk,” Gram grumped at my mother, and I winked at her.
My father came in from out back, tugging the hat from his head as he beelined toward me. “Hey, sweetheart. You look beautiful.”
I spent the next hour with my mom, Gram, and Shana in the kitchen, making small talk and hearing about a photo shoot that Shana had done for an upcoming clothing company.
I absolutely loved her. She was funny and genuine and cool, all wrapped in this gorgeous package.
My mother was even being pleasant today, probably because she was so thrilled to have Jacoby and Shana here.
“Oh my,” Mom said. “Look out the window.”
The snow was coming down hard now, which wasn’t abnormal for Rosewood River this time of year, but we just hadn’t had much yet thus far.
I was grateful that I’d driven here, which I’d done more because of my four-inch heels than because of the weather.
But either way, I was glad I’d made that choice now.
I finished chopping the vegetables before tossing the salad in the large wood bowl. My mom pulled the garlic bread and the meatballs out of the oven and placed them in serving dishes, and my brother and Shana moved them to the dining room table, where Gram had already found her way to her seat.
Once we were all seated and we’d passed the platters around the table, the conversation flowed.
“So tell me about this new business of yours. Obviously, if you need legal advice as you get things going, just say the word.” Jacoby placed his napkin in his lap and smiled at me from across the table.
“I completed the licensing, and I’m just sort of letting everyone in town know that I’m open for business. I placed an ad in the Rosewood River Review , so hopefully I’ll get some bites off of that,” I said.
“Good. Utilize the paper to offset costs in the beginning. Free advertisement is the best option for a new startup,” he said, and my mother’s eyes widened.
“Well, we didn’t give her free advertising,” Mom said. “That wouldn’t be very helpful when it comes to learning about starting a new business. If she really wants to do this, then she shouldn’t be coddled along the way.”
Gram let out a little gasp and shook her head at my mother as my brother gaped at her.
“You’re serious?” Jacoby asked.
“Well, she makes a good point, son.” Dad shrugged as he scooped some more cranberries onto his plate. “We don’t want to give handouts. That won’t help her make it in the business world.”
“‘Make it in the business world’? I helped you two get your newspaper off the ground,” Gram said as she looked between them.
Jacoby laughed. “‘Handouts’? I mean, she’s doing this all on her own.
You own the newspaper. It’s a family business.
It’s far from a handout to let her advertise a little in there.
I mean, she gave up her dream so she could run the flower shop for this family.
I think you could throw the girl a bone and let her run an ad for free until she gets on her feet. ”
Go, Jacoby!
I’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone on my side. It had been a while. He didn’t come home often. Gram would stick up for me at times, but she always backed down when my mom got upset.
Which was all the time.
Shana’s eyes were wide as she looked up at me.
My mother startled at his words, then set her fork down and blew out a long breath.
“She gave up her dream?” Mom scoffed. “Please. She had no plan. We handed her that business to give her a purpose.”
Now it was my turn to drop my fork. “Are you for real? I had a plan and you know it. I’d been offered a position at the design firm where I’d interned.
And you didn’t hand me anything. You both begged me to come back and do this after Gram got sick.
Do not offend me by saying you needed to give me a purpose.
I’ve always had a plan and a purpose. You actually derailed me, if you want to be honest with one another. ”
“I told you to sell the flower shop,” Gram hissed at my mother. “You insisted she wanted to do this.”
“All right, let’s all settle down,” Dad said, trying to keep the peace, per usual. “If Jacoby thinks it’s a good idea to allow you to run a free ad in the newspaper, then Mom and I will talk it over and reconsider charging you.”
If Jacoby thinks it’s a good idea.
My brother looked up, his gaze locking with mine. My heart pounded in my chest as I tucked my lips between my teeth to tamper my anger down.
“Why does it matter what Jacoby thinks?” I asked, knitting my brow as I looked between my parents. “Why wouldn’t you ask what I think?”
A chuckle left my mother’s mouth. It was disingenuous, as always. “Jacoby is a lawyer, Emilia. Of course we would take advice from him.”
Shana’s face fell, as if she couldn’t believe the words coming from my mother’s mouth. I wasn’t remotely surprised, because it had always been this way.
“That’s ridiculous,” my brother said. “Emilia is brilliant, and I wish I had half of her creativity. She’s taken the family business and completely turned it around, which frankly benefits you more than her, seeing as she’s on salary.”
Jacoby did the books for both the flower shop and the newspaper. My mother would never trust me to do the books, and she’d made that clear.
“No one is doubting that Emilia is creative. She’s our sweet daydreamer,” Dad said, and I had to fight not to roll my eyes right here at the table. If I had a nickel for every time he made that comment in the most condescending way, I’d be a very wealthy woman.
“Dad.” I cleared my throat, looking directly into his dark brown eyes. “Being creative does not make someone a daydreamer. You can be creative and run a successful business all at the same time.”
“Right. That’s what I meant.” He smiled.
I closed my eyes for a few beats, trying to figure out where to go from here.
I wasn’t going to change their way of thinking here at the table, and this was getting more heated than I wanted it to.
My brother and Shana were only home for a few days, and it was rare to have the whole family together.
This wasn’t the time or place.
“Okay. Let’s just table this conversation for now.” I reached for my water, since my appetite was suddenly not as ravenous as it was before the insults started flying. “We have Jacoby and Shana here, and we should enjoy this lovely meal.”
“Thank you,” my mother said. “We can revisit the price of the ads next week, if you’d like. I’m open to discussing it. But not during dinner.”
I nodded, but there was a thick lump in my throat now, and I desperately tried to shake it off.
“Emilia, did you make these floral arrangements?” Shana asked as she looked to the center of the table, where the three arrangements sat.
“Yes, I did.”
“You are so talented. And I’m looking forward to staying in your guest cottage tomorrow night. Jacoby said you have an eye, and that your home is spectacular.”
I’d purchased a little house with a guest cottage shortly after I graduated.
I had a nice nest egg, as my grandparents had started a college account for my brother and me when we were young, and since I’d received an academic scholarship, I was able to use the money toward purchasing my first home.
I’d then spent the last two years renovating the place and making it my own.
Jacoby and Shana would sleep at my parents’ house tonight, and then they’d come stay with me tomorrow night.
“Well, decorating is subjective,” my mother said, because God forbid she allow someone to compliment me. “If you like that sort of shabby, old-world vibe, you’ll like her place. She’s not modern at all. Most people are fans of contemporary décor.”
“I personally love a home with charm and warmth,” Shana said, smiling as she looked at me.
I didn’t speak a whole lot the rest of the night and then shared that I had the onset of a migraine and needed to get home. I hugged everyone goodbye, and my brother leaned in close and told me how sorry he was.
I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me.
I’d just have to prove my parents wrong.
I told Shana and Jacoby I’d see them tomorrow, and my father walked me out to the car.
“What a fun night, huh?” he said as I slipped into the driver’s seat.
Um… I’d have more fun at a gun fight with no bullets.
“Yeah, sure.” I pulled my seat belt across my body and snapped it in. The snow was coming down even harder now, and I was anxious to get home.
“Did you get those snow tires yet?” he asked.
“Not yet. I’ll drive slowly.”
He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, too.” I waved goodbye before pulling the car door closed and backing up.
The roads were icier than I’d expected, and I felt the tires sliding around several times. I only had a few blocks more to go, and the snow was coming down hard now, making it difficult to see. The plows had clearly not been out yet, which was fair, considering it was a holiday.
I was making my way up the hill, so I pressed down on the gas in hopes that I could power through the thick snow.
Once I got off this street, it would be flat again.
I saw all the outdoor lights on ahead at Bridger Chadwick’s mansion at the top of the hill, and I thought about the fact that I still hadn’t received an apology.
The stubborn ass.
My tires started sliding when I approached the steepest point on the hill, and I gripped the steering wheel hard as my car began turning on its own volition in the wrong direction, toward his driveway.
The ice had me sliding quickly in a circle, and I squeezed my eyes closed as I skidded off the road and onto his ridiculously long driveway.