20. Checkmate, Bitch
Checkmate, Bitch
Mina
L eo waves from a table at the far end of the restaurant.
With a steadying breath, I cross the room and drop into an empty chair. How in the world am I going to manage small talk when all I want to do is break down and sob?
Turns out, I don’t have to worry about chitchat because Aunt Bitsy is still on the warpath. Her mark? Braden Hammond.
“I hope we’ve seen the last of that man. I don’t want him near you, Mina.”
Bitsy repositions her silverware, moving the knife a millimeter closer to the edge, and I realize she does this with everything. She’s always trying to fix things, as if nothing is good enough on its own merit. She does this with people, too. Adjusts and nudges until they fit her design.
What an exhausting lifestyle.
“Don’t think that’ll be a problem,” I mutter, burying my head in my hand.
“Mina,” Bitsy hisses. “Elbows off the table.”
With a grunt, I straighten and pull my hands into my lap .
I clench my thighs together beneath the table, anything to keep from snapping back at her.
It’s all about appearances, all the time. Doesn’t matter if I’m miserable, so long as the outside world never suspects.
“I ordered you a glass of wine,” Leo interjects, no doubt trying to direct the conversation onto smooth waters. “You still enjoy a good cabernet, right?”
Perfect. Liquid courage for a performance I didn’t sign up for.
I force a smile and nod. “Thank you.”
Leo rests his forearms on the table, pressing his fingers together in a steeple. “Your aunt and I have discussed your dancing at length over the last week or so. She didn’t know you were chosen for the elite choreography track.”
“Impressive, Mina.” Bitsy sips her wine, offering me a rare concession. “Then again, you always had talent. Since you were a little girl. I remember you twirling about in the park, not a care in the world.”
For a moment, I’m back there again. A gangly, long-limbed child, twirling wildly, hoping the fairies would come. “I miss those days.”
“There’s no point in that. Life moves on, regardless of our desires.” And just like that, Bitsy returns to her polished, poised, and soulless self.
“Right.” I grab the wineglass from the server’s hand before he has a chance to set it on the table.
Trust me, sir, I need this more than you do.
The wine hits my stomach, its warmth spreading like vines through my insides, and I hear Braden’s voice in my mind.
You’re strong, smart, and your ideas for the dance studio are phenomenal.
Do I believe what he says? I want to, because I want to be the version of me Braden sees.
Saw.
After tonight, he has a very different idea in his head .
“Mina?” Leo reaches out, giving my shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Are you okay?”
Not at all, actually.
But I can fall apart later. Right now, I’m going to plead my case.
Braden believes in me, and he’s the best man I know.
That has to count for something.
“I’m fine. Actually, I wanted to speak with you about the dance studio, Aunt Bitsy.”
Bitsy runs a finger along her napkin, eyes on me. “Proceed.”
“I have tons of plans for it.”
Her brows arch in surprise. “Plans? I wasn’t aware the studio was broken. What, pray tell, do you want to change about my studio?”
Okay, this is not starting off well. Time to kiss her ass a bit. I’ll boil my tongue later. “Your studio is a pillar of the community, renowned for producing some of the top dancers in the area.”
“And you want to change that?”
“I want to expand it. Right now, the world of dance is closed to so many potentials. It’s prohibitively expensive, and there are always additional costs for costumes, shoes, and makeup.
So many people can’t afford to attend classes, but they possess the raw talent you saw in me. I want to nurture it.”
“My studio is not a beacon for street urchins, Mina. Polo is expensive, too, but you don’t see me handing out free horses. Some activities just aren’t meant for all people. I pride myself on promoting the elite dancers of the area.”
“There are likely many future elite dancers that you’ll never know because the doors to your school remain closed, but if we offer a few scholarships per year, and require tryouts as part of the application process, we might find some real hidden gems. ”
“Out of the question. Do you have any other ideas beyond charity?”
I down a large swallow of wine as the feeling of helplessness claws at me.
Still, I stay the course. Because if I back down now, I’ll regret it forever. “I do. I want to expand the range of dance taught at the school. Bring in instructors from around the globe and let students help shape the curriculum.”
“You want novices to determine the programs?” Bitsy sputters, her facade cracking momentarily.
“They deserve to have input. Create a dance community, not just a school. Make it inclusive instead of exclusive, for people who might otherwise never dare set foot inside a dance studio for fear of rejection. Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”
“Actually, it does,” Leo says, beaming at me with clear admiration. “Bitsy, I think this could be exactly the boost the studio needs.”
I squeeze his hand and mouth thank you while preparing for my aunt’s counterargument.
But instead of spouting off about my half-cocked ideas, she sits back, her gaze bouncing between Leo and me. “You like this idea, Leo?”
He nods. “I do. Look, I’m lucky that I was born into a family of privilege, one that afforded me the luxury to pursue my desires. Many people don’t have that option, and this could open the door for them.”
“Presuming we want to open that door,” Bitsy mutters. “What will our friends think if there’s suddenly no room for their children because we’re catering to charity cases?”
What a pretentious ass, particularly because I’m one of those charity cases she so obviously despises.
“You helped me, Aunt Bitsy.”
Bitsy sighs and shifts in her seat. “That’s different. You are family. ”
“In name only. You’ve never treated me like family,” I murmur.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s true. The only time you showed a speck of interest in me was when I was dancing at your school. When I was winning competitions. But after my injury, when you knew I would never dance on stage as a professional, the calls dropped off.”
“I’m a busy woman, Mina. The phone works both ways.” She lifts her glass, as though the conversation bores her.
I fiddle with my napkin as long latent anger simmers inside me. “You didn’t call us when my father died.”
“This has nothing to do with your father,” Bitsy snaps, smacking her hand against the table. “Despite your desire to pick me apart, I am the reason you had a life in dance at all. Remember that.”
“I do, Aunt Bitsy, and I’m sorry I shattered my ankle and derailed the future you imagined for me. But this could be my new plan. You know how devoted I was to dance—it was my entire world. I would give the same level of commitment to your school. What do you think? Will you give me the chance?”
The seconds tick by as I await the governor’s call. My palms sweat against my napkin. Will I be saved or executed on the spot?
Bitsy wags her finger at Leo and me. “You two make quite the power couple. Why did you ever break up?”
I blanch, stunned at her sudden segue. “What?”
Bitsy tilts her head, studying me like a specimen in a museum. Then she speaks. “You and Leo need to build a future together, both professionally and otherwise. You were partners for years. Now it’s time to make it official. Do that and the studio is yours, along with all your avant-garde ideas.”
She’s got to be kidding me.
“And if Leo and I don’t reconcile? ”
Bitsy sighs, pursing her lips as she studies her wine glass. “Well, then, I will have to consider all my options, and, Mina, I have many.”
She throws down the gauntlet with a triumphant smirk.
Checkmate.
I swallow hard and bite back the tears, covering my mouth with a trembling hand. From the corner of my eye, I catch Leo’s wide-eyed gaze and realize he’s not a part of the power play.
No, this is all Bitsy.
“One other thing,” Bitsy continues. “I notice you’re no longer wearing that engagement ring.
Good, but it is not enough. You will never see or speak to Braden Hammond again.
I have eyes and ears everywhere, and you will not tarnish the Farnsworth name by fraternizing with a liar and a cheat. Do you understand?”
Yes, you ungodly bitch. For the first time in my lifetime, I understand perfectly.
And I have fucking had it.
Braden was right about everything, and I will not sit here and allow my aunt to rip him apart when the only thing he’s ever done is try to prove I’m enough, just as I am.
Something I will never be in Bitsy’s eyes.
I plant my elbows on the table with a thud, my eyes wild with fury. “My life is not a fucking game for you to play and position at will.”
“How dare you.” Her voice is sharp, brittle. She grabs her wineglass like she might hurl it.
“I’m not done.” My volume rises, and a few patrons look in our direction.
“This is not how a lady behaves,” Bitsy hisses through clenched teeth.
“I’m not a lady, remember? I’m the offspring of the man you despise. The man who stole my mother, your crown jewel, from you. It must have burned you that a poor man with no status in society could convince her to leave it all behind. So, you made her pay, and you’re doing the same to me.”
“Mina.” Leo places a hand on my arm, but I shake him off.
“Let me finish. I thought deep down that you loved me. That you believed in me. But you never did. You invented this ridiculous situation, demanding I be married to inherit your studio. I see now what your endgame was.”
“I somehow doubt you see anything at all beyond your petulance.”
“You knew I was single, and you had an idea. Reunite Leo and me, because the Rothwell and Farnsworth families play golf at the same fucking country club. I’ll bet Leo’s family knows about it, too, don’t they? But then I introduced you to Braden and threw a monkey wrench into the plan.”
“Braden Hammond is not worthy of you.”
Oh, that is it.
“Actually, I’m not worthy of him . I begged him to play the part of my fiancé because I so desperately wanted your approval.
” I swipe the tears from my eyes. “And he did. He bought me a ring—a real ring. He let me move into his house when I had nowhere to go. He carried me a mile down a trail when I hurt my ankle. And he put up with your horrid treatment, all to help me.”
Bitsy waves her hand around the table, a triumphant expression on her face. “See, Leo? I told you they weren’t really a couple. It was all a game.”
“No, you’re the one playing the game. I quit.” I stand and grab my purse, finishing the last swallow in my glass. “I see now I’ll never be good enough for you, but I was always good enough for Braden. I’m going to find the man I love and pray he’ll give me a second chance.”
Bitsy cocks a brow. “Are you sure that’s your best step?”
“What do you care? I’m just a pawn to you. And yes, he’s the only thing that matters. ”
I storm away from the table, fully aware that half the patrons are watching the scene unfold.
Let them watch. Let them talk.
Who cares?
“Mina, wait a second.”
I spin on my heel and fix Leo with a glare. “Do not stop me.”
“I’m not.” He raises his hands in surrender. “I had no idea this was Bitsy’s plan. She told me Braden was trouble, and she worried that something might happen to you the longer you stayed with him. Should have known it was all a lie.”
“Why?”
He rolls his eyes. “Because our families lie. That’s what they do.” He nods toward the door. “Be careful driving. I’ll speak to Bitsy and see if I can’t work this out for you.”
“I don’t need your help, Leo.”
“Hey, we were friends once. That’s what friends do. Just let me talk to her.”
I suck in a breath and shrug. “Thanks, I guess. I really think the studio would have flourished with those changes, but I should have known it wasn’t about the studio. It was about me not being enough. Not being a Farnsworth.”
“You know, they don’t know the Farnsworths or the Rothwells in Los Angeles. Just saying.”
I smile through my tears. “Good to know you’re safe.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
I nod, but at this moment, I don’t care if I ever hear from any of them again.
There’s only one man I need to reach, and I pray it isn’t too late.