Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Again, I barely slept. Hearing Dax asleep made me so thankful, but I could’ve done without my mother’s voice causing havoc to my body. Her internal rants had me contorting in the sheets.
Just as Dax had halted our conversation about doctors, I didn’t let him push me into talking about my mother. But, perhaps if I vented I wouldn't have lied awake all night.
Doubt it. There’s no stopping my mother’s voice, even when imagined.
I leave the bed before Dax wakes. He’s in a deep sleep, and I’m too restless. I take my laptop into the living room to write an email to Sylvie’s English teacher, because I put it off last night.
On my school portal dashboard, I have Sylvie and Hope’s log-ins as options. From time to time, I go in and fix things on their behalf. I contemplate writing to Mr. Riley from Sylvie’s email, but instead, log back into mine.
An email from me will be actioned. Mr. Riley will only tell Sylvie to work harder. We already know that won’t happen.
As I contemplate the appropriate wording, Marcella from the kitchen enters with our breakfast. I glance up at her, smiling with my eyes, and she leaves discreetly.
Not long after, I press send on my email and Dax emerges from the bedroom. He walks into the living room in sweatpants and a tank, smoothing a nicotine patch over his upper arm. His eyes are bright with energy, and his smile is adorably cute.
“Thought I’d kick the cravings,” he says.
“You look like you’re in a good mood today.”
He sits beside me, greeting me with a kiss. “I had the best sleep last night. Plus, who wouldn’t jump out of bed when they have this beauty to see?”
Nervous laughter simmers out of me. “Sorry I left the bed early. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“It’s fine.” He reclines back on the couch, resting his arm over the backrest. “Did you wake up early?”
I wince. “I kinda didn’t sleep at all.”
A frown droops his sunny disposition. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
I clutch his hand. “Don’t be. I was glad you were getting some good sleep.”
“Was it your mom keeping you awake?”
I nod and huff. “I can’t believe she’s back. And worse, her arrival got between us.”
“But we’re together now. We don’t need to rehash everything.”
I stare into his gray-blue eyes, and the whites are so much brighter. “You look really good today.”
“I feel really good today. All I needed was some sleep.”
“I remember in the hospital you kept blaming sleep deprivation.”
“I was running on empty because I was either working for my brother or staying out all night to avoid him.”
My heart swells with optimism. “So, you really knew you’d get better?”
He grins and winks. “All I needed was a pretty girl to give me kisses and a place to crash.”
I cuddle into him. “Well, that I’m happy to keep doing.”
I sigh out with happiness as he presses a kiss on my forehead. Maybe he really is okay. Dr. Harris wrote in Dax’s file that stress could be a factor. Perhaps being with me has dialed down his stress levels, so he is indeed getting better.
I touch my cheek, feeling the stretch from my grin. Oh my gosh, I truly hope it’s the case. I mean, why else would Dax keep insisting he’s better when medical treatment is an easy option? Who would know his body better than he does?
Breaking our happy bubble, the glass door slides open.
“Good, you’re up,” my mother says, standing with perfect posture.
Tension seizes my back as I sit up on the couch. “Morning, mother.”
She glances at her wristwatch. “Don’t you think you should be dressed by now?”
“No. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Mom glances at Dax. “Because you had company?”
“No, because of your surprise.”
“Why aren’t you happy I’m home?”
“Because I’m waiting for your true agenda to come out.”
Mom sighs, averting her gaze. “I’m not playing these games with you. Besides, we have a big day ahead of us.”
“Us? You planned my day again?”
Mom glares at me, unimpressed. “Since when is that a surprise? I’ve always given you a schedule of upcoming events. Now, get dressed.”
“I already told you, I’ve made plans for this week. If you’d given me notice, I could’ve moved things around. I’ll look rude if I cancel at the last-minute.”
“You should know better than to argue with me, Vanessa.” She turns toward the door. “You’ve got one hour to meet me in the car.”
When she leaves the pool house, I stay glued to my seat.
Why did she need to come home now? This is the first time I’ve ever been interested in a guy, and she’s ruining it.
“Shouldn’t she be jetlagged or something?” Dax mutters.
“That would show weakness,” I say dryly. “That’s not a trait my mother allows anyone to see. Besides, we get a bed, a shower, and butler service during our flights. It’s not hard to feel refreshed afterwards.”
Dax smirks. “Of course.”
“I’m sorry she’s dragging me away again. Will you hang out here?”
“Are you kidding? Hanging by a billionaire’s pool all day sounds like heaven.”
I grin and kiss his cheek. “I’m glad you’re so relaxed. It’s all I’ve wanted for you.”
He wraps an arm around me. “Having you by my side would make today perfect, but I can wait. If you don’t play nice with your mom, I can’t stay here anymore.”
“Ugh. I hate that she has this leverage over us.”
“I still can’t believe she’s cool with me being here. She really doesn’t want her secret getting out.”
“And somehow she still wins.” I sigh and stand from the couch. “I better get back to the manor and glam up.”
He smiles. “Just remember, you don’t need all that stuff. You’re more beautiful when you’re natural.”
I blush like a fool and slink away, mumbling a giddy, “Thank you.”
I hold on to the good vibes while Claudia does my hair and I apply my makeup. But by the time I’m dressed, and in the car with Mom, they’ve completely faded. When she says she’s taking me to a dress fitting, my mild protest is firmly squashed.
“We have lots to do today,” Mom says, leading me into a boutique. “I want to finalize the floral arrangements and redo the seating charts. But first, you’ll have a dress fitting.”
“We already have ladies working on floral arrangements, and Mrs. Fisher is in charge of the seating chart.”
“They were doing a fine job, but now I can make it better.”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to ruffle feathers the minute you get home?”
“Don’t be silly. They’ll be glad to finally have my help.”
Inside the boutique, racks of formalwear surround us.
“I don’t need to pick a dress,” I complain. “I’ll just wait for the designers to send me something. It’s what I’ve done for the past three events.”
“It’s different now. It’s been months since we’ve spent time together.”
“It’s not my fault you didn’t come home with me.”
“Be serious, Vanessa,” she chastises. “Even when you were overseas, you didn’t spend time with me.”
I shrug. “Did you want me to?”
Mom thumbs through a few items on a rack. “If you spend this time with me, then I’ll let you spend more time with your boy toy.”
“Boy toy?” Is she really comparing what I have with Dax to the torrid affair she had with my tutor? “You might want to give him more respect. He’ll be my date for the gala.”
Mom chokes on her surprise. “Is he now? What happened to LJ?”
“There’s never been anything with LJ.”
“Well, there you go. That’s what I was getting at with this new boyfriend. You do want to spend time with him, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Then let’s stop squabbling and pick a few dresses. Shall we?”
I swallow the urge to groan and move to another rack. The sales assistant, Ramona, greets my mother with a kiss on each cheek, and recommends dresses from Antonia Balletti’s latest collection.
Happy not to dig through the racks myself, I fall into the fitting room where Mom and Ramona discuss the gowns while I play a life-like mannequin.
Ramona helps me into a beaded, baby blue, princess-cut dress. The hem swims to the floor, and the straps fall off the shoulder. It feels a little Cinderella on the way to the ball, and I’m not loving the vibe. Yet, Ramona gushes about how it was made for me.
Mom grins. “She looks like she’s worth more than the Ashworth Estate.”
I pull out the tulle covering the skirt. “I’m not loving how big it feels.”
“Oh, please,” Mom replies. “No one will be able to take their eyes off you. This gala is happening because of you, after all.”
Ramona claps. “Oh, Miss Ashworth, that’s wonderful.”
My mother beams. “Yes, Vanessa single-handedly reached out to St. Mark’s Hospital and discovered how much help they needed. She’s quite the philanthropist.”
Ramona clutches her chest. “You must be so proud, Mrs. Ashworth.”
Mom gives a dignified nod, happily taking credit for my achievements.
At least she’s not wallowing in my failure.
I view myself in the three-way mirror and wince. “Can I see something else?”
“Fine.” Mom huffs and gestures at Ramona. “Get her another dress.”
Ramona helps me out of the dress, sensing the change in my mother’s mood. She then helps me into a dusty pink, floor-length gown. It has an A-line cut, gathered fabric, and spaghetti straps.
“This is gorgeous,” I gush at the mirror.
“See,” Mom blurts. “Doesn’t Mommy know best? I knew you’d enjoy coming here.”
Calm down. I like the dress, but could live without the outing.
As Ramona sits the bottom of the dress in a more flattering position, Mom yammers about what shoes and accessories would best suit the dress. When Ramona leaves to find what Mom envisions, it dawns on me. Mom is only here so Ramona can tell her customers Mrs. Ashworth was in the store.
“You could’ve come here for your own dress fitting, you know,” I say as she examines my dress.
“You’re the star of the gala, my dear daughter.”
“We both know people will be clamoring to speak with you at the gala. Some haven’t done that since you left town.”
“And, of course, I’ll indulge them.”
“I’m just saying, you didn’t need to bring me along to fulfill your agenda. I mean, maybe it’s easier when you make me your doll, but…”
Mom sighs. “Just what are you getting at?”