Chapter Twenty. Rowan
TWENTY
Rowan
“Why are we not talking about any of this?” Caroline Vandevere asks as she pushes another extra-dirty martini across the cocktail table to me.
The patio bar at the country club is busy for a weeknight. But then again, when is it not these days? Patrons mill about and talk with others about the Westmore gossip, lie about their golf score for the day’s round, or try to hit up an associate and seal a business deal.
There is always schmoozing going on here and unfortunately, today I seem to be a part of it.
“Talk about what?” I feign innocence. “My promotion?”
“Your promotion. Your engagement. I mean … it feels like just yesterday we were teasing you about Chad, and now—now you’re going to marry him.”
I smile, take a long sip of the martini, and prepare to do what it seems I’ve gotten very good at lately—I lie. “I’m not going to lie. It’s been a whirlwind.” Guilt hits me squarely in the solar plexus.
“So it’s the whirlwind”—she twirls her finger around—“and not you trying to avoid me that’s had you not returning my calls.”
“Caroline. I promise, it’s not you. You have to know that. It’s the company and Holden confusing things and me trying to figure out what is really going on, and my parents and—” Stop over-explaining. She’s known you since middle school and will see right through you. “It’s just been a lot.”
She eyes me above the rim of her glass, and it’s only after she gives me that slight nod that I know I’m forgiven.
For now. “So then road-map this out for me because I’m more than a little lost.” She hooks her arm through mine and drags me out of earshot from the typical Westmore Country Club evening patio soiree.
“You’re telling me that being with Holden made you realize you wanted Chad?
I mean … that’s not a Rowan Rothschild type of action. ”
“Things just happened,” I sputter the words out.
“A lot of things clearly happened, but I’ve known you long enough and one plus one isn’t equaling two for me on this.”
Our eyes meet and hold. I swear our years of friendship and knowledge of each other pass through the distance. I clear my throat. I struggle with how to explain or justify or reinforce the lies I’m telling one of my oldest friends. “I, uh—there’s just a lot going on,” I finally manage.
She reaches out and squeezes my hand, leaving mine in hers.
We stand there in silence as the socializing carries on around us.
I’ve never felt more alone in this moment and it’s all my own doing.
“I’m here for you if you need to talk, Row.
But I’m not going to lie to you. It’s quite a drastic one-eighty and if I’m asking questions, you better believe the busybodies of town are gossiping about it behind your back. ”
“I know. Everything is fine. I’m not pregnant like my own mother assumes. This is my choice, Caroline. It’s my doing.”
“How bad did he hurt you?” she asks, and I know without a doubt she’s talking about Holden.
I put a brave smile on my face and nod. It’s all I give her as I squeeze her hand. “I’m fine,” I murmur. She knows something is up and it makes me feel a bit better that she does.
“Well, I’ve never known Rowan Rothschild to do something without there being a purpose or reason behind it, so I trust you.”
Her words mean the world to me and I struggle swallowing the lump in my throat they’ve caused. In typical Caroline fashion, she’s needed elsewhere for some drama or something in the club. She leaves me reluctantly but just as there is a rare sighting of Henry Williams across the patio.
Or maybe he’s always there, and I’m the one who isn’t.
Regardless, I make a beeline for him since it seems I can’t get him to return my calls.
“Henry. Mr. Williams,” I call out breathlessly to Gran’s estate lawyer and Chad’s uncle as I make my way across the space and turn some heads in doing so.
He turns and his eyebrows shoot up from behind his glasses. “Miss Rothschild.” He glances around as if he’s afraid of being seen with me. I file that thought away. “A little out of character to see you here, isn’t it?”
It’s not the first comment like this tonight.
Play the game, Row. Look the part. Smile the brightest while loathing the people you now have to become.
“Yes, I know, but Chadwick is bringing out all different sides of me.”
“Ah, yes. That’s right. I hear congratulations are in order. Forgive me for not saying so sooner. I was unable to make the party. Prior obligations had me out of town and unable to cancel for a party thrown on such short notice.”
“It’s been a whirlwind,” I say in what seems to be the word of the evening. “I think we took everyone by surprise.”
“Most definitely.” He shifts on his feet uncomfortably. “Well, okay, then…”
“I’ve been meaning to have word with you,” I say before he escapes.
“About?”
About why you never seem to return my calls. “Gran’s will.”
The features on his face tighten some and I don’t know what to make of it. “Her will?”
“Yes. I’m more than certain that Chad may have spoken to you about it as well, seeing that you openly informed him of some of its confidential contents.”
His Adam’s apple bobs and eyes dart around. “Of—of course, but—but I’m off the clock.”
“I’m aware, and I apologize for approaching you in this manner. I have called your office several times but your receptionist just tells me that your schedule is packed and she’ll try and get a message to you.”
“I am super busy these days.”
That or you know you fucked up, breaking my attorney-client privilege by telling Chad about the parameters of my inheritance, and therefore are afraid to be alone with me because you know I’m going to confront you over it.
“I know you are, but I’m sure you’ll take a moment for your soon-to-be niece.”
“Um.” His eyes flicker about nervously as if he’s looking for someone to intervene.
“In addition to asking for some clarification on Gran’s will, I’d also like to chat about prenups, so clearly time is of the essence.”
His head startles at those words. “You’re serious.”
“Of course I am. I’d think that would be a smart move for anyone in either of our positions.”
“Well, um … normally I’d say yes, but in this instance, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
The plan is for me to inherit $30 million in the next two years, and he doesn’t think it’s necessary to safeguard that?
No lawyer in their right mind would think otherwise. Now I know I really need to question him further on Gran’s will.
“Right.” My smile is insincere at best. “I’m hoping we can get together sooner rather than later so I can clear up a few concerns I have.”
He pauses as he looks at me, his head to the side and his glasses slipping low on the bridge of his nose. “Of course.”
“Henry Williams. Stop badgering our girl.”
I stiffen at the sound of my mom’s voice while noticing his awkward smile in response.
“I’m not badgering in the least.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “But I do need to excuse myself. I have plans I’m running late for.”
“Of course.” My mom squeezes his arm in affection while emitting that laugh those closest to her know is fake. “You just have the best time, won’t you?”
“Rowan.” He nods his head.
She reaches out to toy with my hair and says absently, “So glad you went back to blond.”
I smile, knowing what comes next. The same thing I’ve been avoiding all night.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Rowan. This new co-CEO job. You simply can’t accept it,” my mom says as soon as Henry is far enough away.
“And why not?”
“Well, for one, you’re screwing your brother over. You’re stepping in his light when we women need to stay in their shadows.”
“Their shadows? Whose would those be?” I’ve had a few cocktails, and my tongue is a tad looser than it normally is.
“Men, honey. We’re supposed to stay in their shadows and let them have their time to shine.”
I snort loud enough to draw attention. “Oh, and here I thought you might actually be excited over the fact that both of your kids have somewhat of an equal stake in our family company. Strange. Not sure why I thought you might actually be happy for me.”
“We are happy for you,” she says and waves a hand. “You know this town. They cast more judgment than a Supreme Court justice.”
I glance over to the bar and long for another drink. Anything to help me survive the rest of this outing.
“What I’m trying to say is you can’t work at TinSpirits and be married to a man of Chadwick Williams’s stature.
One, a corporate job is no place for a woman with matronly duties to fulfill, and two, it’s rather emasculating to your brother to share CEO responsibilities with his little sister.
He’s running for city council, for Pete’s sake.
We can’t have the citizens of this town thinking he can’t handle important tasks such as keeping this gigantic company afloat. ”
“Exactly. He’s running for city council.
A job that deserves his undivided attention to do the most for Westmore, so it only seems reasonable to have me in this new role.
I pick up the slack at TinSpirits so he can focus on the reason he’s running—to ensure the citizens are taken care of.
” I allow my voice to rise in pitch so the nosy members around us can hear what I’ve said, and by the widening of my mom’s eyes, she knows exactly what I’ve done.
How can she refute me when I’m looking at the best thing for our town?
She flusters—eyes wide and head bobbing—her own voice loud when she replies, “Of course. Yes. He’s doing this for the people of Westmore. Growing our family business to ensure local jobs and to make sure his suppliers remain profitable. All for the people.”
“You his campaign manager now?” I ask, for which I receive a withering glare. “Because that was some over-the-top bullshit.”
“Why do you always have to be like this, Rowan? Combative? Argumentative? Condescending? He’s your brother. Of course we want him to win.”