Chapter 11
11
MAGNOLIA
“ M agnolia, can I count you and Daniel as two for this year’s Christmas party? I’m meeting with the caterer this week and need to give them a final headcount.”
I was sitting at the oversized antique table with my mother, helping her pick out invitations and linens for our family’s annual Christmas party which would be in two weeks. It had been nearly the same amount of time since I’d met Kolbi for coffee after my drunken night out. Part of me hoped he’d reach out, but he never did. I guess he meant what he said about keeping a professional relationship with his clients.
My hands sifted through the dozen or so samples of linens strewn across the table, looking for the perfect one. I always loved helping with the annual Christmas party as it was one of the few things my mother and I seemed to be able to connect over. As I held up a piece of cotton fabric, the texture of it reminded me of the bed I slept in at his place when he brought me home and took care of me.
“Magnolia?” The shrill of her voice brought me out of my thoughts and I looked at her. “Did you hear me? Honestly, I wish you would pay better attention.”
I took a breath before speaking and tried to steady my voice so it didn’t come out too harsh. “Well I’m paying attention now, Mother. What did you say?”
“I asked if Daniel would be coming to the Christmas party with you. I need to finalize the headcount for the caterers.” I had to turn away from her so she couldn’t see me roll my eyes.
“I’ve told you multiple times now, Daniel and I are over. So, no, he won’t be coming to the Christmas party with me this year.” I tried to speak calmly and politely to avoid an argument. When it came to Daniel, it was always my fault that we were no longer together and I didn’t have it in me today to fight with her. I just wanted to enjoy the planning process and get through the day without having her make me feel like I was a complete disappointment. She let out an exasperated breath and her shoulders slumped.
“I just don’t know why you won’t apologize to him. Daniel is a very sensible man and comes from a wonderful family. I’m sure if you?—”
“Mother, we have gone over this before,” I interrupted, my tone more firm and irritated than I intended. “Daniel cheated on me , not the other way around. I have nothing to apologize for and I won’t be made to be the bad guy in this situation. Can we please let this go and just focus on the party?” I watched as my mother set her shoulders back and pinched her lips together. The look she always gave me when I had upset her—a look I knew all too well after twenty-eight years of being her daughter. I opened my mouth to apologize for interrupting but didn’t get the chance before she stormed off. Manners were a big deal in our home and I hadn’t minded mine.
I tossed the piece of fabric I’d been holding down onto the table and slumped further into the 300-year-old chair. Almost on cue, Ms. Ruthie came in carrying a tray full of finger sandwiches and tea; mine and my mother’s usual meal when we planned this party.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” Her tender voice vibrated across the room, thick with her Southern drawl, and brought me a sense of warmth I rarely felt while I was in this house.
“I can never do anything right in her eyes.” I waved my hand in front of me towards where my mother had walked away and tried to blink the tears back. There was almost nothing in the world that I wanted more than for her to accept who I was and the decisions I made. But at every turn, it felt like I could do nothing but let her down.
“Oh, sugar, your mama loves you.” Ms. Ruthie had moved to stand next to where I was sitting and rested her hand on my shoulder. The feeling of it felt like an anchor, keeping me steady in the midst of a brewing storm. “She might have a different way of showing it, but she does.”
“Yeah if ‘showing it’ means making me feel like absolute shit all the time.” Ms. Ruthie clicked her tongue at me which was her silent way of scolding me for letting the swear slip. She was as traditional as Southern women came and to her, ‘true ladies never swear.’
“I’m sorry, I’m just so frustrated with this whole situation. Daniel cheated on me and for whatever reason, I’m in the wrong. She just can’t get it through her head that we aren’t getting back together no matter how many times I tell her.” I threw my hands into the air and let them fall into my lap. Ms. Ruthie brushed my hair down with her wrinkled hand and leaned down to kiss me on top of the head just like she did when I was a girl. Her kisses were sometimes the only form of maternal affection I got.
“Don’t mind what she thinks. It’s your life, sugar, you need to live it in a way that makes you proud and you deserve to do so with people who value and respect you.”
“So can I live it without my mother?” I quipped, throwing the metaphorical knife at her even though she was already gone. “Because she doesn’t seem to respect me all that much.”
Ms. Ruthie laughed from deep in her belly and it was the kind of laugh you could feel in your bones. She swiped a soft hand down my head again and leaned over my shoulder from behind my chair before speaking again.
“Unfortunately, sugar, family is family and while we may not see eye to eye with them, sometimes we need to do our best to show them how to be better. Because, before ya know it, you might wake up and realize you have no family left.” She squeezed my shoulder and started back towards the kitchen, her words causing my heart to squeeze in my chest knowing that she was talking about herself. Ms. Ruthie had lived in our house my entire life, working for my parents but mostly acting as my caretaker. She had told me stories of her family and how much she missed them as many of them had passed on or moved far away. She was all on her own and hearing her words reminded me of how much I still had.
Before pushing the swinging door open, she turned and gave me a smile that was aged and weathered but full of love. Her dark as night but warm like the sun eyes paired with the wink she gave me lifted my spirits and made me feel the tiniest bit better. I took another deep breath and tried to shake off the interaction with my mother before returning to the samples on the table. After waiting for nearly an hour for her to come back and help, I decided to leave my picks for linens and invites on the table along with a note letting her know I would be back in a few days to go over the decorations with the party planner if she still wanted me to.
As I walked by the kitchen, I saw Ms. Ruthie helping some of the other staff polish the silver and when she looked at me, I tugged on my ear and gave her a smile which she returned without pause. On my drive home, I let my mind wander as I drove under the hundred-year-old oak trees that canopied the street and over the bridge back to my townhouse downtown. I wondered about the Christmas party and who would come and about how it would be four hours of schmoozing the important people of Charleston in an attempt to get them to vote for my father. While this was the annual Sinclair Christmas party, he was using it as an unofficial campaign event to get more sponsors and votes for his run for senate. Normally these parties weren’t bad because I always had Daniel or Margaret to keep me company. This year I’d be an orphan as Margaret was spending the holiday in Paris with her parents and Daniel was, well, not my boyfriend anymore.
After parking my car and walking inside, I kicked off my shoes and flopped down on the couch. Ms. Ruthie’s words swirled in my brain and I thought about my own family. Growing up, I’d always felt like an afterthought. Whenever there were parties or functions at home, I would be tucked away upstairs until I was old enough to know how to behave. My mother would dress me up in expensive party dresses and I would be paraded around like a doll. If I acted out, my mother would scold me and send me to my room for the rest of the evening. ‘We are Sinclairs ,’ she would hiss, ‘and the Sinclairs have an image to uphold and you will not tarnish that image .’ If it were with my father, he would make snide comments about how “if only I were a boy” and the men around him would laugh in unison.
Nothing I did was ever enough to them and nothing I tried was ever right. I groaned and threw my arm over my eyes, the internal dread building as I thought about how this year’s Christmas party would be just like the ones I had to survive growing up. As I laid on the couch with my eyes closed, an idea sprang to my head and I shot up with a smile on my face. I reached for my phone and pulled up a number I had dialed two weeks earlier in the middle of the night.
Hey Jack.
I kept it simple and waited for him to reply. Before I could even put my phone down, I saw the three dots pop up on the screen.
Who is this?
Who do you think it is? You got someone else who calls you Jack?
I rolled my eyes at my phone and waited for him to respond.
Flower? Are you okay? Do you need something?
My heart skipped a beat whenever he called me that and I chewed on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling at my phone like an idiot. The protectiveness in his texts did something to my insides that I’d never felt when I was with Daniel.
I do need something Jack. I need to know if you’re coming to my family’s Christmas party in two weeks.
I wasn’t planning on it. My team will be there but unless my clients formally request me to attend their events, I trust my teams to do their jobs without me needing to oversee them.
How does one “formally request” your presence at an event?
Typically they call my office and ask for me to attend directly. I’ve done it before but like I said, only when clients ask for me to.
I read his message and got up from the couch to grab my computer and pull up the page I’d looked up two weeks ago that had the number of his secretary on it. Dialing the number, I waited patiently for someone to answer. A nice woman on the other end picked it up after a few rings.
“Good afternoon, Sweetgrass Security. How may I help you?”
“Hi, yes, this is Magnolia Sinclair. Your firm is overseeing the security for my father’s senate run,” I started, using my most polite Southern voice.
“Oh, yes, hello Miss Sinclair, how can I assist you today?”
“Well, as I’m sure you know, my family is hosting our annual Christmas party in two weeks. While I know you have your best team on it, I would personally like to request that Mr. Vesey be in attendance. It would be lovely to be able to introduce him to some of the other guests in attendance. This party would make for an excellent networking opportunity for him.” Ever my father’s daughter, I spun the need for his attendance as a business opportunity. Something my father always taught me growing up was that you could get someone to do almost anything if you made it seem like it benefited them more than it benefited you.
“Of course, Miss Sinclair, I’d be happy to place this event on Mr. Vesey’s calendar. Could you give me the information one more time so I can confirm I have the details right?” I gave the woman on the other end of the phone all the information she needed and explained that it was black tie and charitable donations were optional, should Mr. Vesey want to give back this holiday season. I hadn’t even said goodbye completely when I felt my phone vibrate on my cheek.
Flower.
Yes, Jack?
What are you doing?
I’m formally requesting you to come to my family’s Christmas party
Like I told your lovely secretary, it would be a wonderful networking opportunity for you and your business. Some of the city’s wealthiest families will be in attendance.
My secretary, who is now in my office, is asking me why the daughter of one of the most important men in the city is calling for me to personally attend her party, thanks to you. I only just got her to stop asking about the shopping trip I sent her on for you two weeks ago.
I could tell he was flustered and I felt a smirk grow on my face as I read his message.
I’m sorry Jack, is there a reason you shouldn’t come to the party?
The three dots danced on the screen before they disappeared. They came back quickly and I could tell he was trying to choose his words wisely.
Not at all. I’ll be there.
I’m happy to hear that.
And don’t forget Jack, it’s black tie formal.
I wouldn’t miss it flower.
“Mags, I’m so sorry I won’t be able to come to the party this year.” Margaret set her skinny caramel latte down with a huff as she slouched down in her seat. I pulled my cup to my lips and took a sip, nodding my head at her.
“It’s no big deal, I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? This is the first time in years that I won’t be able to come and now that Daniel…” her voice trailed off and she looked at me uncomfortably, her lips pulled back to the corners of her face.
“Now that Daniel is bopping his hardly-of-age girlfriend and isn’t my boyfriend anymore, I’ll have to go alone,” I finished the sentence for her.
“Yeah…” she grimaced. “I know how hard these parties were for you growing up and how much it helps to have some backup. Your parents can be ruthless at these things sometimes.”
“ Sometimes ?” I barked out a laugh because the use of the word was more than comical, it was downright ridiculous. “Margaret, my parents are always ruthless at these things and this year is going to be worse. With it being the unofficial kickoff of my father’s campaign, any kind of misstep on my part will be reason enough to cut me out of the will forever.” My heart sank behind my chest thinking about all the back-handed comments and snide remarks that have been sent my way over the years at these types of functions. I was either my parents’ most prized possession or biggest embarrassment—never anything in between. Margaret took another sip of her coffee and chewed on the inside of her lip.
“Margs, don’t worry about it, really.” I reached across the table and took her hands in mine. “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl and can handle my parents.” We locked eyes and I gave her a wink.
“Besides, I won’t be entirely alone,” I offered with a smirk, looking down at my coffee that I had picked up again. I needed something to focus my energy on—something other than the butterflies that fluttered around in my belly every time I thought about him. My friend’s eyes went wide from across the table and she covered her mouth to hold back the coffee she almost spat out.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry, say that again?” she choked out as I let out a breathy laugh and rolled my eyes playfully.
“I said I won’t be entirely alone at the party. I have a friend who’s coming.”
“And is this friend a man or are you suddenly blushing over women now?” She raised a brow at me.
“I’m not blushing!” I cried, but I could feel the heat in my cheeks.
“Then I’m going to need the name of your color changing blush because, girl, your cheeks are bright pink,” she teased. She tucked her lips between her teeth and studied me from across the table with raised brows. I took a breath and a sip from my nearly empty coffee cup before continuing.
“He’s just…this guy I met a couple of weeks ago. We ran into one another downtown and I don’t know, he’s interesting.” None of what I’d told her was a lie , but it wasn’t the full truth either. I had met Kolbi a few weeks ago downtown when he nearly ran me over on his skateboard and I do find him interesting.
“Uh huh, and what about him do you find so interesting?” Her voice was pointed but in a way that only your best friend could use. I had opened up this door with her, and now I was going to have to walk through it.
I thought about her question for a moment. There was so much about him that I found interesting. The way he looks at me when he doesn’t think I’m going to notice, how he looks me in the eye when I am speaking, how he isn’t who you think he is upon first glance. The thing about him that interests me the most, though, is how gentle he is. The guy is well over six feet tall, has broad shoulders that could take you out, but is truly one of the kindest men I have ever met. The kindness he showed me after knocking me down on the street and again when he took care of me three weeks ago after picking me up was something I’ve never experienced before, and something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
“I don’t know, he’s just different from the guys I’ve been with before.” I shrugged and looked up and down the street. Margaret and I were sitting outside one of my favorite coffee shops downtown enjoying the afternoon sun. The closer it gets to the end of the year, the more cashmere sweaters I have to pull out of my closet to keep warm.
“ The guys you’ve been with before ? Mags, you’ve only ever been with Daniel. Wasn’t he like, your first real boyfriend?”
“No, he was just the first person I slept with. I had boyfriends before him.” I was quick to correct my friend because while Daniel had been the only man I’ve been with sexually, he wasn’t the only guy I’ve ever dated. I had a few boyfriends before him, thank you very much. I watched her follow a guy with her eyes as he passed by our table before looking back at me. She swallowed hard and leaned on the table with her elbows and by the way her face morphed into a dark mix of concern and apprehension, I grew nervous about what she might say next.
“You don’t think it’s too soon? You and Daniel only just broke up.” She gave me a timid smile and waited to see how I would respond. My lips pursed together and I leaned back in my chair.
“We were over long before I walked in on him sleeping with another girl. I think I knew that, I was just too afraid to rip off that Band-Aid because I knew it would upset my mother.” It was true, while I hated to hear him say it, Daniel was right when he said things between us had been off. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was only staying with him because I knew it pleased my parents. “And besides, that happened almost a month ago now. I’m ready to just put it behind me and move on.”
Okay maybe ‘move on’ was a strong term to use. Kolbi had made it clear that what we had was strictly professional. I was a client and he worked for my family and it would stay that way.
But if that were true, why did he make the comment about wanting to do things to me that were ‘anything but professional’ ? I knew there were feelings there, both from him and from me. I called him that night not because I knew he would come and get me, but because I wanted to see him again. Something about him pulled me in and kept me entranced, like a long lost land you finally find after being stuck at sea for years. It lures you in with the promise of comfort, security, and refuge.
Plus, he had said yes to coming to the party awfully quick for a guy who was trying to ‘keep things professional.’
“Speaking of your mother, does she know about this new guy?”
“Not exactly, and I don’t plan on telling her about him either.” Again, not a lie. She knows Kolbi, sure. But she doesn’t, and can’t, know about the growing feelings I have for him.
“You’re playing with fire, you know that, right? She will find out, she has eyes everywhere.” I shook my head at my friend but didn’t have a reply. She knows as well as I do that my mother has spies all over the city. She calls them ‘friends,’ and I call them ‘blabbermouth old ladies who don’t live exciting enough lives so all they do is gossip about one another and their children at their weekly tea time.’ I wasn’t worried though, I’d be able to keep this from her.
Something about him was pulling me in and I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that connection.
Not even my mother.