Chapter 2 #2
“Yes…The bank says they’ll try to get mine back if—when they confirm it wasn’t my fault, but it’ll take a while.”
Luda moved to a utility sink to wash her hands, the hot water erupting in a hiss of steam. “What about your credit card?”
“It’s…already maxed.”
Luda released a soft scoff and shook her head. She had grown up scraping for everything, and there was no greater sin in Luda’s book than a lack of awareness of where and how you spent your money. She could rattle off the current balance of all the family accounts within a ten-cent margin of error.
“We should let you spend some time with nothing to learn the value of what you wasted.”
“Mom—”
“But we have decided not to. This time.”
Hayleigh released air that had apparently been stuck in her chest. “Does that mean you’ll give me the money?”
“Yes,” said her mother, folding a towel into a perfect square. “But we have some conditions.”
Here it was. There was always a catch. “What are they?”
Luda removed her riding helmet and swept out her hair. “First, you are to come to the Christmas Eve party. I know you said you couldn’t make it this year, but are you actually occupied?”
Hayleigh closed her eyes and shook her head. Her mother threw an elaborate party every year at their home for members of their social clubs, their church community, and Colt’s business associates.
The overproduced nature of the party was a symptom of her mother’s cosmic boredom, as the details and planning filled up months’ worth of otherwise empty afternoons.
Luda Gray had a mind intended for much more than life had given her to do, and, like a working dog in a city, she tore up the furniture if not kept occupied.
No detail of the party could be anything less than immaculate, including the Gray daughters. And Hayleigh was far from immaculate this year, which everyone would notice, and comment on. It was more than she had been willing to sign on for, but as a condition of the money, it was tolerable.
“I can make it…Are the Cushmans coming?”
“Of course. And yes, that includes Grayson.” Her eyes glinted. “Which leads me to condition number two: You will attend the party as his date.”
“What? We’re broken up. For good this time.”
“Yes, and his mother says the poor boy is distraught over it.”
“He’s a man, Mom. Not a boy I jilted because a magazine quiz said he wasn’t the one for me. He’s a thirty-four-year-old man who I do not want in my life anymore for legitimate reasons.”
“I’ve promised his mother you’ll give him another chance. They’re a good family, and he can more than provide for you. If you’re together, it doesn’t matter if you never find another job—”
“But I will. It’s just not a great time of year to be looking.”
“Hmm, and how was it ten months ago when you started looking?”
Hayleigh had no comeback to that. She’d been applying, but there wasn’t much available, and even less that met her salary requirements.
Besides, it was difficult to get a job when you didn’t want to list the only boss you’ve ever had as a reference, because he would almost certainly tell them not only about your considerable failures but also that he’d seen you suffer a mental breakdown.
Jack didn’t know what Rowan Midwinter had done to her—how could he when he, like most people, had no idea about witches and spells or any of it—and so he’d assumed everything that happened in Elk Ridge was a product of Hayleigh’s mind.
There simply was no convincing way to explain that sensitive company information had been torn from her mind before her memories were wiped by a powerful witch.
Her mother took her silence as surrender and delivered the last condition. “Finally, you’ll move in with us until you’re back on your feet.”
A tremor ran down Hayleigh’s spine.
“No.”
She could survive being a party ornament and spending one night with her ex, but moving in was too much to ask.
“Those are our conditions. We both feel you could use a little…re-centering, and reevaluation of your priorities. You can do that best at home, with our support.”
They said support but meant direction.
“That’s not necessary. I’m fine—”
“Oh really? Are you?”
Hayleigh looked at herself from the outside, like her mother must have seen her. Like Jack had seen her. Like everyone else was seeing her.
Unemployed, manless, one round of monthly payments away from losing her car and apartment, with a fading dye job and a sweater that a bathroom towel-off had done nothing to save from a permanent macchiato stain. She’d once had a life worth defending, but all that was gone now.
She lowered her head. “When would I have to be moved in by?”
A smile of triumph spread across her mother’s face.
“The end of the month should do. In the meantime, we’ll get you in to my colorist…
” She glanced down at Hayleigh’s hands. “My manicurist. And Belinda will get your diet back on track. We’ll probably want to kick-start you with a cleanse to help get you presentable for the party… ”
Then Luda leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Hayleigh and planting a kiss on her forehead, the familiar rose and sandalwood of her Amouage Dia Woman enveloping them both. “Let Mama take care of you. This will be for the best. You’ll see.”