Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“ I ’ve always known you were impulsive, but I guess I never realized how impulsive.”
My phone’s speaker volume threw my best friend’s voice off my hotel room’s walls. If I closed my eyes, I might’ve been able to convince myself she’d been present with me. I didn’t, though. I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling, the patterns in the plaster that I once found pretty, but now hated the sight of. I’d spent far too many hours of my life staring up at this ceiling.
“You kissed a waiter,” Destelle went on, half amused but fully shocked. “Who then turned out to be your newly hired secretary. I wish I’d been there to see it. I bet Ms. Nancy had a field day with that one.”
“She wasn’t there, unfortunately,” I replied. “But you’re right, the old bat would’ve shoved me out of the way to get a turn herself.”
Destelle laughed, the familiar sound taking away some of the tension in my chest. But only some. “Why did you kiss him, again?”
“To prove to Ms. Jennings I could. ”
She laughed. “Now I really wish I’d been there, just to see the look on her face.”
In a way, Destelle and I were one and the same. Both of us were forced into the life of diamonds and glitz at a young age, destined to follow in the sparkling heeled footsteps of our parents. The parties and galas were bearable in high school because I at least had someone at my side who hated it all, too. Not as much, though. Whereas I was cast out, Destelle still fit in.
Sometimes, though, I wondered what life would’ve been like if our situations had been reversed. What it would’ve been like if I fit in.
Another major difference between us, of course, was that she got away from it all.
“How’s life in California?” I asked, tapping my foot on the mattress. “Sunny, warm, and surrounded with matcha lattes?”
Destelle had gone out on a country-wide road trip with her boyfriend and his band out of high school and never came back. Not for good, anyway. The band discovered they could reach a far wider audience in Los Angeles than they could in little ol’ Fenton County, which was fair. Destelle came back for the holidays, but the divide between us seemed larger, the gap never quite returning to the size it’d been before.
“ Finally warming up,” Destelle replied, then groaned. “I sound like a local now, complaining about sixty-degree winters.”
“Figures. I was over here freezing my butt off in ten-degree winters, but you go and whine about that Cali air.”
“I’ll try to bring some of it back with me when I come for Annalise’s wedding—which, my mother has made it clear I need to attend, unfortunately.”
“Of course you do,” I replied. “Even if your mother hadn’t made it clear, I’m making it clear—you are not allowed to leave me to the wolves at the event of the century.”
She chuckled again. “I hear the condescension in your voice loud and clear. Don’t stress, I’ll be there.”
My foot began tapping more firmly. I tried to force myself to stop, but the lack of movement only made my restlessness feel worse. “You’ll get to meet Aaron then. And you’ll get to hear all the ‘ so, what do you want for your wedding ’ talk.”
Destelle was quiet on the other end of the phone, and I listened to the white noise. I instantly regretted bringing it up. I could focus on nothing but the white noise that stretched between us. We’d been close enough in high school that there was a time I would’ve known exactly what she’d say. Known exactly what she’d been thinking.
Now, I found more comfort in her silence than I did in her words. “You’re still going through with it?” Destelle asked. “The engagement?”
“I suppose, technically, we aren’t engaged yet. My mother says he’ll propose when he arrives, though. She says the Astors look upon me favorably .” Like I was a fat cow, prime for slaughter.
“Margot.” Destelle sighed. “You don’t have to go through with it. Marrying a complete stranger. Letting your parents decide that for you. You can say no.”
Once upon a time, I was the one pushing Destelle toward freedom and independence. She’d resented the fact that her parents controlled her life, dictated how she acted, and I’d been the one to encourage her to break the free from those restraints. That was before my parents closed ranks around me, before my own freedom went up in smoke.
It was an embarrassment when I thought about it now. Hypocritical. The memory of the previous version of me, with hopes and dreams and grit, made me sick. “You’re worrying about something you shouldn’t be,” I told her, forcing my tone level. “I don’t mind being pushed toward Aaron.”
“You don’t mind . Shouldn’t you want to be pushed toward him? Shouldn’t you want to marry someone?”
While I envied Destelle for living the life she wanted, I did resent it when she brought the possibility up for myself. Throwing away everything you’d ever known was easy when your parents were ones you could fall back on. Destelle could’ve gone rogue, dropped out of school, got knocked up— anything , and her parents still have accepted her when she came back. They’d have grumbled and complained and probably made her feel like crap, but they would’ve had their arms open.
My parents would disown me, no question. No hesitation. They’d cut their hand off before the infection could run any deeper. They’d already threatened it once.
A brisk knock on my hotel room door pulled me out of my thoughts. “I have to go. It was nice catching up.” I said it, but I wasn’t completely sure if I meant it.
“Text me later.”
“I will.” Yet another one of those thoughts—I said it, but I wasn’t sure if I meant it.
I padded across the suite in my slippers to the front door, exiting my bedroom and coming out into the sitting area and attached kitchenette. I rarely used it; it was far easier to order room service. It felt a bit like a small apartment, under the security of the valet holding my car hostage and Sumner’s listening ear next door. Sometimes I was surprised my parents gave up their penthouse suite to me, but I always wondered if they thought their nicest room would make up for the fact that they wanted me around as little as possible.
I didn’t bother checking through the peephole. There were only two people who would come without announcing themselves.
“Good morning,” I greeted my mother’s shadowy figure as she stood in the hallway. She wore a pair of linen pants and a loose-fitting sweater. The outfit itself made her look much younger than her fifty-nine years old. That, and the work she’d had done. “I wondered when you were going to show up.”
“Your father convinced me to calm down before I came to visit you,” she returned, showing herself in and shutting the door behind her. I’d already crossed my room to the settee, lounging against it. My outfit was much like hers—linen pants with a cashmere sweater. It made me want to take it off and throw it into the trash. “And I was far too exhausted to deal with you yesterday. Believe it or not, Margot, you’re not always the most important person in the world.”
The quip was snotty, but easy to deflect. I used to spend nights waiting for her to come find me. Even if I had just been waiting for her to yell, I’d look forward to whenever she sought me out, like a pathetic child waiting for Santa Claus. She never came. I stopped waiting. “Glad you could enjoy your Sunday without me, then,” I told her.
“I heard you and Mr. Pennington went out for brunch yesterday.”
Eyes and ears everywhere all the time . “Mm.”
“What did you talk about?”
“I have to report every single conversation to you, too?” I rubbed a finger into my temple. “Ask Mr. Pennington. With how much you’re paying him, I’m sure he’ll sing like a canary.”
I wasn’t sure what my mother was afraid we’d discussed, but in truth, our conversation had been simple. Normal. Talking about Sumner’s collegiate, his move east. Anyone else would’ve found the conversation boring, but the mundane details… intrigued me. It was interesting to hear about someone’s life without them attempting to glamorize it. Sumner hadn’t been trying to impress me; he’d been being honest.
His easy honesty still left me a little unsettled.
“How is Ms. Nancy?” my mother asked.
If I hadn’t wanted to recap my conversation with Sumner, I surely did not want to talk about my visit with Nancy. “Fine.”
“Yvette said she’s declining. Her doctor doesn’t think it’ll be much longer, with the remaining function of her heart. Quite the perfect time for you to come back to town. Try to stop in there more often, Margot.” My mother’s voice was thoughtful, though I didn’t turn to look at her expression. “Allyson Jennings has been going over there more often lately. We need to remind Ms. Nancy how you’re her favorite.”
“So I can beat Ms. Jennings out from top spot in Nancy’s will, you mean.” My lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “Yes, good thing you brought me back to Addison when you did. Would’ve been a shame if Nancy died before you could secure her fortune. Could you imagine if she left the land Massey Suites sits on to Ms. Jennings? How unfortunate would that be.”
My mother entered my peripheral. “Everything is such a joke to you, isn’t it? I don’t know when you’re going to stop acting so childish.” And with that, she launched into it all. “Kissing the staff at the fundraiser? You’re twenty-two, Margot, not twelve. I know you’re intentionally trying to create problems for your father and me, but to be so impulsive just isn’t acceptable.”
I know I had signed up for it, and even yesterday, I’d been ready to pass the bickering back and forth, but now, I found myself wishing I could be anywhere in front of her. I was suddenly and abruptly too tired to pick an argument.
“I can’t even begin to try to get into your head, either. What did you think kissing a worker would accomplish? Were you trying to get him to call the police?”
I hadn’t done it for a police report, but now I almost wished he had—would Aaron Astor have wanted to marry me so desperately then? Probably. If the man was willing to fall in love at first sight and propose through his parents without having ever met me in person, he didn’t seem like the type easily swayed by a rap sheet.
“Knowing you,” my mother went on, still standing in the middle of the room. It was as if she planned on running blocker if I tried to escape. “You probably just wanted to get everyone else to grasp their pearls.”
“People don’t say that phrase unironically.”
“Margot.”
My mere exasperated name felt like a small victory in that moment. A tiny, little smile tugged at my mouth, but it dropped back into place. “You said so yourself, I’m impulsive. Ms. Jennings said I hadn’t kissed a man, and there was one ripe for the kissing.”
“Or maybe you were hoping I’d change my mind about Aaron Astor.”
My finger, which had still been rubbing circles into my temple, stilled. “I didn’t kiss Sumner because I was hoping you’d change your mind,” I said to my mother now, finally looking up at her. “I know how important the business deal with the Astors is to you.”
“No, you were just hoping Aaron would change his mind.”
At the moment I’d kissed Sumner, Aaron hadn’t been on my mind. Right? Had the subconscious thought of him that spurred me to action? I resented how she could wheedle my thoughts out of me. She’d barely tried, too. She’d been in the room not even for five minutes, and already could see right through me.
“It is an arcane thing to do,” I said before I could think better of it. “Marrying your child off for the sake of your business flourishing.”
“ Arcane .” She gave a little scoff, pacing her way closer. “Who got that idea in your head? Destelle? Marriage itself is a contract. Do you know statistically how many marriages based on love fail, Margot? Many. Most. Any life-altering decision based on emotion isn’t going to end well. That’s just common sense.”
She made it sound as if I had a lover that I intended to run off with. I didn’t. And it wasn’t as if I wanted to marry for love. At twenty-two, I just didn’t know if I wanted to get married to begin with. Not right now, especially not to a stranger, not even if he was the son of a goldmine.
“Mr. and Mrs. Holland’s marriage was based on mutual beneficiation, not love.”
“Yes, and they both cheat on each other every chance they get.”
“It’s not cheating. It’s their agreement.” She gave a sigh, one that indicated her decaying patience. “You know my relationship with your father is the same, in a sense. Not founded on love, but because we were a good match. Could keep up with each other. You’ve always known that. We’ve never raised you on fairytales and love stories, so I don’t know why you’re acting so childish like this.”
Yes, I’d always grown-up thinking love to be ridiculous. I’d never had crushes on people, never found myself googly-eyed over a celebrity. I couldn’t even picture myself with a partner, lying next to them at night. Even when I tried, the visual was empty, nonexistent. So now, I didn’t have a concrete answer for my mother. It was just as if something unknown grabbed my shoulders and held me in place.
You cannot do this , it said. This is something you cannot do .
“You live a beautiful life, Margot Massey. You’d really give it up?” My mother’s hand suddenly reached out and snatched my chin, jerking my head to the side. I hadn’t even realized she’d gotten close enough to touch me, and her grip was a painful pinch, forcing my stare to hold hers. “Your entire wardrobe, gone,” she threatened, those blue eyes snapping fire. It was almost a comforting sight, despite her grip on my face. It was one I was used to. “Your penthouse suite, gone. Your sportscar, gone. Your inheritance, your fortune. We have given you a luxurious life, and I will not hesitate to take it back if you won’t appreciate it.”
My parents’ relationship held no love, and neither did their relationship with me. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d been sent away so young, but we never bonded in the way a family should bond. My parents never saw me as their loved daughter; they saw me as their business asset.
It was times like this, with her threatening everything I’d ever known, that I felt small. Young. Sixteen instead of twenty-two, a child instead of an adult.
“Appreciate it by getting married to whomever you wish.” It was hard to speak with my jaw held captive. “That’s what you mean.”
“You understand me, then.” My mother dropped my chin just as quickly as she’d grabbed it. “You’re in a wonderful position, Margot. You truly are. One of the Astor sons is interested in you—I don’t see why you’re fighting it so much.”
“And I don’t see how you don’t find his obsession with me creepy.” I returned my gaze out the window, fighting the urge to rub my chin. “I’ve never met the man, and yet he’s wanting to marry me?”
“I’ve met him,” she reminded me. “He came up to me at the Christmas party. I know his intentions. And it’s perfect. The hard part of catching his attention has already been done for you. You don’t have to worry about wooing him.” She stared at me, but I refused to look over. “You can do this for your father and me. And you will.”
Her unyielding tone reminded me of the day my dreams shattered. My senior year, my parents had allowed me to apply to any fashion institutes and colleges I wanted, as long as I also applied to a few universities on their list. Looking back, that should’ve been a sign. I’d gotten accepted into most of the fashion schools I applied for, with the portfolio I’d built over the four years of high school, but when it was time to pay tuition, that was the first time my parents took the choice out of my hands.
Instead of fashion school, they paid for my tuition at their alma mater for a business program.
It had been like someone had shaken me awake, the peaceful life I’d been living vanishing into the icy grip of reality. I could do nothing without my parents’ money—couldn’t live on my own, couldn’t attend the school I chose, couldn’t chase the dreams I wanted—and never again would they let me forget it.
My mother began toward the door. A sudden tightness seized my chest at the fact that she walked away from me, a buzzing, ridiculous desperation to make her stay. “I want to speak to him first,” I called after her. “Before I meet Aaron for the first time at Annalise’s wedding, I want to speak to him first. If you want me to be cooperative, you could arrange that at the very least.”
It was a suffocating thought, meeting Aaron for the first time surrounded by the eyes of the elite. Our every move measured, scrutinized. He can do so much better , they’d think; they’d say. It was bad enough to go through it, but worse to add them to it.
“You’ll have to arrange it with your father,” my mother said, and if I hadn’t been looking, I wouldn’t have noticed the way her shoulders fell in relief. Finally , I could see her thinking. My robot is functioning as she should . With the details finalized, she left my bedroom.
I was sure my skin was red from her grip, and I sat while the stinging pain receded. The settee wasn’t even comfortable; I didn’t know why I still sat in it. They couldn’t have invested in higher quality furniture for a penthouse? Much of my life seemed consistent with that train of thought. I don’t like it; why am I doing it?
The answer, as always, was a simple one: It wasn’t as if I had anything else to do anymore. I had no possessions that didn’t belong to my parents. I no longer had hopes and dreams that weren’t created by my parents. My life had always been a calculated one, fully planned and no room for deviation, but they’d allowed me the first few years to taste freedom. It was a mercy of theirs. Now, they had a use for me.
I pushed to my feet and made my way back to my bedroom, continuing into my closet. It was the size of a small bathroom, rows of suits on hangers, beautiful at first sight. I’d bought my first suit at thirteen, and since then, I’d spent years collecting them. Gilfman, Malstoni, Beaumont Couture, Hefman & Italia—brands I’d never have been able to consider without my parents’ credit card. Without them, I’d never have been able to express myself the way I did. I traced my fingertips over the fabrics, the satin and the cotton, letting it bolster me.
My mother, so confused as to why I acted out, wasn’t alone in that bewilderment. I didn’t understand it either. I didn’t know why I instinctively tried to move puzzle pieces into spots they didn’t fit in.
I knew one thing for certain, though, over the past three years—fighting it got me nowhere. I might as well just give in.