15. Daisy
Daisy
“ I need to take control of my life.” I squeeze some lemon into my iced tea.
The sun is shining bright on this hot July day.
Even though Ashleigh and I sit in a cabana at one of the dock’s nicest restaurants, I still fear for my tender skin.
This tea better cool me down. “This whole thing with Cristiano confirms that. I mean, I barely know what I want to do after I graduate college. My parents make it sound like I’m going to get a degree to keep up appearances and then get married right away to start my life of unhappy homemaking. As if.”
Ashleigh is squeezing every citrus fruit that grows in the sun into her water.
She’s on a diet again. I keep telling that girl it’s about lifestyle changes and not fasting for days at a time, but does she ever listen to me?
“I have no idea what I’m going to do, either.
My parents want to either marry me off or have me do something impossible.
” She scrunches her nose. “Like be a doctor or a lawyer. Why does it always have to be a doctor, lawyer, or wife? Ugh. My brother gets everything… and he’s younger than me! ”
I know that feeling well, and it’s a common occurrence in our circles.
Even though I’m the only DeMonte child, my parents have done nothing to secure my inheritance outside of some trusts.
What I mean is that I was never prepared to take over the company.
If I had been a boy? I would’ve been in the main DeMonte office from the time I could read.
Ashleigh’s parents at least have a son to use as an excuse.
The fact he’s three years younger than Ashleigh, though, is so telling that I want to hurl.
Thing is, though, I’m not sure I want to do Daddy’s job, anyway.
I don’t imagine myself being some CEO or managing a huge company like DeMonte’s.
I don’t know what I want to do. My whole undergrad career has been me screwing around in general ed.
I have to declare a major this year. Right now, I’m about to pick English, because I don’t know what else to do!
Until recently, I didn’t let any of this bother me.
Now? Since my father decided who my future husband will be?
It’s like a storm has erupted in my head.
It’s not only about the husband thing, although that was the impetus.
I should be allowed to pick my romantic partners.
I should be allowed to do whatever I want with my life, within reason, of course.
I like to think I’m an intelligent girl.
Bullheaded and stubborn? Hell, yes. I hear my grandmother was a right asshole until the day she died. It’s a DeMonte thing.
Ashleigh squeezes the life out of one more orange slice before deciding her water is edible.
“Maybe you should pick a good role model for the kind of woman you want to be.” She picks up The Daily Social and flips through the pages.
“Although, I can’t think of anyone like us who isn’t partying and floating all day long. ”
I fold my arms on the table and sigh. My memories keep going back to Lorde and the way she cradled me in that hotel bed.
Who knew a girl like that could be so tender?
She may have called me dirty things while I ate her out, but we went to sleep with mutual respect I have never experienced with someone before.
If only my parents wouldn’t flip their shit if we dated.
“Holy moly! Look at this ring!” Ashleigh slams the paper in front of me. A yellow ring highlights a blown-up photograph. “That’s so vintage. I’m jelly.”
I pick up the paper and stare at the ring. The photograph is grainy, but I see a pretty blue ring that looks like it may have come from the forties. Don’t know. I’m not as hip to vintage as Ashleigh is. I’m a sleek and modern type of girl.
“Don’t you like that lady?”
Finally, I look at the rest of the article. My mind has been so clouded that I don’t even register anything beyond the ring. Now, I see some cute photos of Kathleen Allen and her partner out for a walk in… Paris? It’s Paris. City of Love. Sigh.
The article implies that the ring is an engagement ring since Kathleen is wearing it on her left hand. “Could a wedding announcement be in the air?” On one hand, I want to swoon, on the other… last thing I want to think about is marriage.
“Yeah, I like her. Don’t personally know her, though.”
“She seems like the kind of woman who knows what she wants to do with her life and does it with or without her parents’ permission. Isn’t she an heiress?”
“Yeah. Before our time.” What a sad thing to think about a woman who isn’t even thirty yet. I put the paper down. “She’s a philanthropist. Talk about not giving a fuck what your parents’ legacy is. My parents would shit themselves.”
“Mine too. What do her parents even do?”
“No idea.” The Allen family goes back farther than mine in this country.
There’s a reason Kathleen is one of the richest women anyone knows.
She doesn’t need a “real” job because she’s already wealthy in her own right.
Must be nice. Maybe I should take some of the money from my next trust payment and invest like I’m serious about my future.
Hmm. Might not be a bad idea. You know. In case I finally snap at Daddy and he cuts me off forever. Better have a backup plan that isn’t “shack up with Lorde and hope for the best.”
My phone rings in my Chanel bag. I reach in and languidly pull it out, only sitting upright when I see my mother’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hello? Mama?”
“Daisy!” It’s not unusual for my mother to sound exasperated. At the same time, she’s usually not this exasperated. “You need to come home right now!”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
My mother tries telling me at least a hundred times. No, nobody is hurt. No, a calamity hasn’t occurred. Something is going on at the house, though, and I needed to be there five minutes ago.
I say goodbye to Ashleigh and immediately call my driver. I’m almost afraid to find out what’s going on this time.