16. The Gala
16 THE GALA
Cal
“I do not like that blue on you,” Mom grimaced.
“Mom, I didn’t ask you to dress me,” I said. “And I wasn’t asking your opinion.”
“Leave him alone,” Chloe said. “You should be glad he was even willing to escort you. He wouldn’t take me.”
We were trapped in a car speeding towards The Chicago Botanic Garden’s annual fundraising gala. When Tom fell ill, Mom thought she might miss her shining moment of the year—an excuse to wear a red dress in her sixties with no shame. I jumped in to save her as I planned on attending. Chloe somehow elected to go with a friend of hers. They all rode in my motorcade because Mom liked drama.
“Do not embarrass me—either of you,” Mom said. “That is all I ask.”
It was Mom’s moment to shine. It was expected that her arch nemesis—Lady Danna—would sit this one out due to her husband’s death. I attended this early-Summer event to schmooze like a good politician, but my heart wasn’t in it. Years ago, I’d shut down party after party with the Delphine Holdings team. Now, those days were gone. Most everyone had gotten married, had kids, or retired and I was the last lone wolf in the bunch—or would have been had I not been strong-armed into escorting my mother this evening.
At the gardens, we departed to a step-and-repeat.
I recognized a tall blonde ahead of us.
“Kristy!” I called.
She turned, taking a moment to focus on who shouted. She waved and weaved back. She was her normal, vibrant self—looking statuesque in a lilac-colored dress. Unfortunately, a man followed—a younger guy with ruddy hair and a slightly-goofy smile. I stood awkwardly, trying to assess the situation while Kristy and Chloe discussed dresses with Mom.
“Kristy, how are you?” Mom asked.
“I’m good. I’m a little nervous since I left Laurie at home with my mom, but apparently, she’s asleep and sleeping better than she ever does with me there.”
“They do. They always do,” Mom said. “And… who is your friend?”
She turned the screws. I wanted to die.
“Ah, everyone, this is Paul Vello. Paul, these are my dear friends—the Markham’s. Chloe, Elise, and Cal, this is my boyfriend.”
I could have fallen over if I wasn’t holding my mother. I felt Mom’s eyes on me, looking for the painful reaction, but I wouldn’t grant it.
“You’re the mayor, right?” Paul asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “That would be me.”
“Paul, what do you do?” Mom asked as we moved forward in line.
“I’m an artist-in-residence right now at the Art Institute.”
“Oh, cool! What medium?” Chloe asked.
“Oil paints,” Paul said.
“Cool.”
I said nothing, wanting to crawl into a bush over being the last to know. Kristy never said she was seeing anyone. Leaving this out felt like a violation of trust.
“Oh, there’s my date!” Chloe waved her hands. “Anton! Oh my God! There you are!”
She rushed off to join a pocket of young hipsters in pastel suits.
“That’s not her boyfriend, right?” Mom asked, concerned.
“Uh, Elise, I don’t think any of those boys are going to be dating Chloe anytime,” Kristy snickered.
“He’s a choreographer,” I confirmed. “One of them is his boyfriend.”
“His boyfriend? Then why is he with her?” Mom asked.
“I have no idea,” I said. “I am guessing it has to do with social media.”
“How do you know this?” Mom demanded.
“I follow on social. I never have any idea what she is doing otherwise.”
We waited at the top of the step-and-repeat, watching Kristy and Paul stand together, looking deep in love. Paul stared as if she was his entire world. My stomach churned.
Finally, they left. I smiled and took a few photos with my mother before stepping aside to watch her shine. Elise Markham was fire incarnate. My mother often annoyed the shit out of me, but I was always proud of her. She was the girl who started a beauty brand out of her grandparents’ basement when no one believed in her—a baby on her hip and no man to help. Now, glittering in diamonds, Elise Markham had it all. I wondered if I would ever feel half as accomplished in nineteen years when I was her age.
* * *
Daphne
“You look so pretty,” Dora brimmed.
I squeezed her hand. “Thank you. You look divine.”
I wish I felt pretty. It wasn’t that I felt ugly. It was that I felt odd . We pulled up to the line of cars dropping off attendees for the Chicago Botanic Garden Gala. Dora and I were sent as the family’s emissary.
“I wish I could do this more,” Dora said. “You know, I just want to feel fabulous. I am sure it’s great. Maybe next year in London?”
London . My home. The place I saw myself living forever.
“We’ll go together sometime,” Dora tried to cheer me up. “When things are better. You can show me all the good parts.”
“Lanie knows the exciting parts better than I do,” I said. “Dora, I’m sorry if I’m dulling your shine tonight. I don’t mean to. However, Daddy is barely in the ground and… I haven’t had the time to cope. You all got months to adjust to the news and say your goodbyes and I’ve been back a week and still cannot get over waiting to hear his voice in the house.”
The door opened. Dora stepped out, holding her hand to me. I grabbed it, rising to my feet.
“I feel the same,” Dora admitted. “Yeah, I’m a little further along, but I still cried a little this morning just taking the dogs out in the garden without him.”
I held her arm tight as we proceeded towards the VIP entrance. A woman with a clipboard greeted us.
“Miss Delphine and Mrs. Walker,” she said. “Right this way. Unless you want to take photos?”
Mrs. Walker . I hated it. Every time someone said it, I felt owned by a man who had frozen my assets and trotted out all my failings in the press.
“I’d like to take photos,” Dora said. “I never get to do this.”
“It’s not appropriate,” I said. “Unless maybe we do it with the rest of the board.”
Dora glowered.
“That will happen later. I am sure the photographer will take some of you, Miss Delphine.”
“Thanks,” Dora backed off.
We followed the organizer through a string of men in tuxes who looked at my pretty, naive sister as if she were steak on legs. Dora completed her transformation from awkward, sweet teenager to unbelievably kind, stunning young woman. She was an it-girl with Mum’s beauty and Dad’s patience. I felt she was a bit precious and longed to protect her.
The organizer brought us up to a special bar for distinguished guests where Dora and I began drinking.
“That’s John Calbert,” Dora whispered, nodding toward a tall, lanky man with cornsilk blonde hair. “He is so hot.”
“We have different opinions on that, sweetie,” I snickered. “Who is he?”
“He is a climate activist. God, he’s so great!”
“Keep your panties on, Dora,” I giggled. “We aren’t here to flirt.”
Dora pouted. “I feel like I am going to turn into a pumpkin.”
“We are here out of obligation to the charity. This isn’t a social call. Daddy just died. We’re supposed to be somber.”
I spotted Cal Markham approaching in a dashing navy-blue suit. The lantern lights made it hard to tell, but he wasn’t wearing black. His salt-and-pepper hair was freshly cut in a way that made me want to run my hands against it to feel it tickle my palm. Why did I have that impulse? As I just told my sister. This wasn’t a social occasion. It was an obligation.
“I’m going to go say hi to Adelaide,” Dora left.
I stared at Cal as he sidled up to the bar.
As he moved aside and met my stare, I fussed with my drink and tried not to gawk.
“Daphne, how are you?” Cal asked. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Mum insisted someone from the family attend to support her board,” I said. “So, she sent me with Dora because she didn’t trust Dora.”
I nodded in Dora’s direction.
“Dora is growing up,” Cal said. “I remember when she was a baby who crawled around your dad’s office. How did we make it here?”
“You couldn’t possibly remember that,” I giggled.
“I did. I was on his staff out of my MBA, and she was a toddler,” Cal said. “I’m old, Daphne. I’m a sad old man.”
“Cal, you aren’t that old.”
“Well, I’m old enough that when a pretty girl hits me in the ass—hard—with a goddamn tennis ball, it smarts for a bit.”
“I’m sorry about that. I just wanted to die, Cal.”
I stopped. Wait. Did he call me pretty again?
“It’s all good. I’m mostly giving you a hard time. How does it feel to be back out? Are you okay, Daph?”
“No,” I answered. “I’m holding it together for everyone’s sake, but I’m not great. I miss Dad like crazy. Honestly, the next person who calls me Mrs. Walker is gonna get a slapping.”
Cal nodded. “Yeah, I think they should stop doing that immediately. You’re Ms. Delphine. He doesn’t deserve to take your name away.”
I smiled. “Thanks for saying that. I feel as though it’s a perpetual punishment for his bad behavior.”
“You shouldn’t be punished for the sins of a dick like that.”
I snickered. “Should you speak like that in public, Mr. Mayor?”
“Everyone knows I wasn’t a well-bred member of this crowd. You cannot teach an old dog new tricks, right?”
“Well, you’ve got us all fooled.”
“Not at all, princess. You don’t have to pad my ego, Daphne Delphine.”
Princess . The last time he’d muttered that; he sent me into orbit.
“I’m not one of you. I get to be one of you for the evening, but when I go home, I’m still a lurker. I was lucky to learn the ropes from David, but I’m always an outsider.”
“Sometimes, that’s an asset,” I admitted.
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t finish. A short, round man in a poorly fitted tuxedo nearly ran into me. Cal pushed me aside, protecting me from the oblivious man. I shivered as he rubbed my back, his hand resting there too long. My eyes met his and he let me go as a boyish grin crossed his face.
“You alright?” Cal laughed. “I thought he would take you out.”
“I’m good, yeah,” I fought the flush that ran up my face. “I just meant I’m in my family, but am at everyone’s mercy. I cannot make choices for myself.”
Cal shook his head, carefully choosing his words and giving me more space. “I don’t believe that for a second, Daphne. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been your own person.”
I shrugged. “Maybe?”
Cal sipped. “Your father wanted you to have the business. He doesn’t trust Davey. He would have left it to me in your absence, but I turned him down.”
I gaped.
“I want you to know that, Daphne—as an outsider. You’re not helpless. Your father believed in you. I’d think it’d be a goddamn shame for you to think all this time you don’t deserve a place at that board table. And if I could be any help, let me know..”
“What… how…”
“Davey would be smart to keep you close. The whole thing needs an overhaul. Get under the hood. Look at the financials. Use your head. After handing it over to your brother, your father did his best in his old age to help guide it. Davey isn’t imaginative. He’s not the strategist you are, Daph.”
“You don’t know that?—”
“I’ve seen you both in action. I know you both—as an outsider. If you ever want to talk, just let me know.”
“But you cannot do?—”
“I cannot do much, know. But I could be a sounding board if you needed it..”
“I cannot get ahead of myself, Cal.”
“Are you getting ahead of yourself or just getting in your own way?”
I considered. “I have ideas. I have a concept, even, but have no idea what to do with it.”
“Oh, do tell,” Cal arched his brow.
“Mrs. Walker, I need you for a moment.” The organizer approached. “Just for a moment.”
I gave Cal a said look.
He patted my shoulder. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”