Chapter Three Rich People Shit
SUTTON
The fundraising gala is being held in a massive ballroom, packed with the rich and influential of Silicon Valley and beyond.
Multi-millionaires and billionaires mingle with glasses of expensive champagne, the diamond jewelry most of the women are wearing glinting under the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
A string quartet is playing on one end of the hall, and waiters dressed in crisp white shirts and black pants move among the crowd, offering canapes to the guests.
A dance floor in the middle of the ballroom is full of couples moving together, smiling and laughing in polite, sometimes cool tones.
Having grown up in this world, I’m used to the opulence and extravagance.
But I don’t love it. It always strikes me as just a bit unnecessary.
I’ve had way more fun closing down dive bars with cheap beer and slightly burnt frozen pizza with my girls than I have at any of these kinds of events.
This is business, however, and if I’m going to prove myself to my parents, I need to show I can work a room just like this one.
So I sip my glass of champagne as I observe the room, my floor length blue Dior gown swishing around my legs when I move, my sparkling silver Jimmy Choo pumps clicking against the floor.
I brush a hand carefully over my hair, making sure it’s falling down my back and not revealing the teal underneath it.
My eyes suddenly settle on Mom and Dad, who are busy talking to business associates and current clients, along with dad’s brother, Uncle Kevin.
Mom gives me a small smile, but also an arched brow — I’m standing alone near the ballroom’s wall, and her gesture is a reminder that I should be networking right now.
That’s what they expect of me. It’s why I’m here.
Giving her a small wave and nervous grin, I sip my champagne and make my way into the crowd to try and drum up new business with some person-to-person conversations.
I’m good at those. Talking to groups? Not so much.
Way more stressful. Public speaking is my nightmare.
But I can sell anybody if I get them one-on-one.
Besides what better way to show my parents that I have what it takes to run things than bringing in fresh streams of income?
In fact, being able to talk business and pitch Holloway to individuals helps make me feel a lot less overlooked.
Mom and Dad may doubt my abilities, but when I’m charming potential clients, I’m cool, calm, and I know my shit.
So I slap on my best smile as I hunt down familiar faces to try and pitch them the benefits of working with Holloway Architecture.
Almost immediately, I spot a middle-aged man in a gray suit, slick-backed brown hair, and fashionable black rimmed glasses.
He’s standing alone, drinking a glass of some amber liquid.
I recognize him as the CEO of GreenWiz Solutions, an environmentally-conscious startup.
Raising my chin, I walk straight up to him.
“Mr. Walters?” I ask, giving him a bright smile.
He blinks at me and slowly nods. “Oh, hello. Yes, I am.”
I offer him my hand to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sutton Holloway of Holloway Architecture.”
His brows shoot up. “Ah! It’s good to meet you, Miss Holloway.”
“I know we’re at a party, but I just wanted to talk to you about our dedication to using recycled and renewable materials, which has cut our carbon footprint to nearly half that of our competitors,” I tell him.
“Oh, really?” His eyes light up with interest.
And just like that… I’ve got him.
The next hour or so gets better and better. Mr. Walters is only the first person I talk to. After that, I keep pulling in wins.
“We’re planning to expand our offices into the Northwest sector within the next five years,” I inform a potential investor, dangling the company’s potential growth like a carrot. “Our projections for this move are proving quite lucrative.”
He’s sold.
“Did you see the new headquarters we just did for Cartwell Inc. that just went up in Boston? It’s actually being considered for a RIBA International Award for Excellence.
” This one I say to a project manager for a major insurance company that I’ve heard through the grapevine is looking to revamp their home office.
Another win.
I get several business cards and instructions to call secretaries to set up meetings, and I move through the gala, feeling cautiously optimistic as I scan the crowd, looking for a new target.
The night’s going so well so far, but I’m afraid that even the slightest glance of disapproval from Mom or Dad will shatter my growing confidence.
I’m careful to steer clear of bigger groups clustered together, or anyone standing too close to my parents.
The last thing I want is for them to listen in while I’m talking to a potential client.
Despite the fact that I’ve been to countless events like this with Mom and Dad before, I still can’t help but worry that I’ll trip up under the pressure and disappoint them.
“There’s my favorite niece!”
Grinning, I turn and find Uncle Kevin making his way toward me through the crowd.
With his dark-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, silvering brown hair, and wide smile, he’s easily the friendliest face I’ve encountered tonight.
When he reaches me, he immediately goes in for a hug, which I happily return.
“Hi, Uncle Kevin,” I say when we pull apart. “Sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” he chuckles. “I know you’ve been busy. I’ve been watching you working the crowd like a pro.”
He sounds genuinely proud of me, which sends a happy thrill rushing through me.
“Just doing what I have to do,” I shrug. “Have to put my best foot forward for Holloway.”
“You go above and beyond. Anyone can see that.”
Unlike Dad, Uncle Kevin doesn’t hesitate to lay on praise.
Ever since I was a kid… really, ever since we lost Colson…
he’s made it a point to encourage me. I think part of it is his attempt to balance out my parents’ doubts and overprotectiveness.
Still, I know his words aren’t empty and meaningless.
He’s not the kind of person to give out praise just for the sake of it.
“Thanks,” I reply. “I’m glad you’re here. Did Archie and Esther come with you, or are they back in New York?”
“They stayed behind,” he explains, his expression softening at the mention of his wife and son. “Archie has school and Esther and I didn’t want to leave him alone for so long. You know how protective we can be of him.”
I do. Even though Archie isn’t his biological son, my uncle has always doted on him and loved him as if he were his own. I know he doesn’t always say it, because what sixteen-year-old boy would, but Archie adores him just as much.
“Archie’s probably just using the opportunity to hang out at the office when none of us are around,” I tease. “He’s hardly the kind of kid to get into much trouble.”
Uncle Kevin laughs. “You’re likely right, Sutton. Archie would much rather spend his days at Holloway, poking around the computers, than going out and doing regular teenage-boy stuff. I should count my blessings in that regard, I suppose.”
We both chuckle, but at that moment, my eyes wander past the main entrance to the ballroom and I freeze in place when I spot two familiar, and very unwelcome faces.
Leon and Aubrey.
What. The. Fuck?
Leon is dressed in a black tux, and Aubrey is wearing a floor-length silver evening dress with a high neck and cap sleeves. As I stare at them in total shock, I see Mom break away from the crowd and make her way toward them.
What the hell are they doing here? Visiting New York is one thing, but this is California! This can’t be a coincidence. Did Mom invite them?
Dad suddenly appears and approaches them as well, smiling and sticking out his hand for Leon to shake.
I need to get out of sight. Hide before they spot me…
“Uh, sorry, Uncle Kevin,” I stammer. “I need to, um, find the bathroom.”
“All right,” he nods, seemingly oblivious to my panic spike. “We’ll talk later!”
He walks away and I quickly turn to leave, praying Leon hasn’t seen me.
As if he can hear my panicked thoughts, however, Leon suddenly turns his head, and his eyes fall right on me.
“Sutton!” he yells, raising a hand and waving. “Sutton! Come over here!”
God, the man has no tact! Heads are turning to stare at him, then I feel eyes falling on me. My cheeks burn with humiliation and I slowly wind my way over to join them, having no choice if I want to avoid any more of a scene, but also hoping I somehow get lost in the crowd.
When I reach them, Leon reaches for me and pulls me into a tight hug before I can do anything to stop it.
“You look ravishing,” he murmurs in my ear, making me cringe. My stomach twists as my anxiety bubbles up. Panic begins to seize me, but I fight tooth and nail to keep it under control and maintain a cool exterior.
“Er… thanks.” I wiggle my way out of his hold and step closer to my mom.
She and Aubrey are smiling like they’re really old friends, but I can sense a strange sort of tension between them that I’m sure neither of them is willing to acknowledge.
“I’m so glad you both could make it,” Mom exclaims, squeezing Aubrey’s shoulder. “It’s been such a long, busy week and it’s so good to see you again. I’m sorry we haven’t been able to talk much since Monday’s dinner.”
After that disaster of a dinner, I was certain Mom was going to be mad at me or badger me about meeting with Leon again.
Maybe she got the hint that I’m not at all interested.
Besides, their company’s headquarters is in Texas.
Nowhere near New York… though they might have hinted they have an office there.
I’m not sure. I pretty much clocked out once dinner started.
Even if that were the case, it just wouldn’t be practical for Leon and me to be together, even if I was interested…
Aubrey waves her hand flippantly, as if batting my mother’s words away.
“I understand completely. We’ve been quite busy ourselves, but we simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity for Leon to spend more time with Sutton.”
My dad nods, grinning as he looks at me, his brown eyes warm.
He looks so handsome in his dark blue suit, his brown hair styled and swept to the side.
Dad is usually very well dressed, and he one hundred percent has Mom to thank for that.
It’s not unusual for heads to turn when he walks into a room, so I’m not surprised at the women sneaking peaks of him over their shoulders.
Hell, even Aubrey glances his way and her stare lingers a little longer than appropriate.
Thankfully, Mom doesn’t seem to notice.
Seeing dad look so proudly at me only in the context of being together with this terrible new potential husband—and not for the wins I was racking up with possible business partners only moments ago—is like a knife in the gut.
“There you go, Sutton,” he says. “You have a partner for the evening. And who knows? Maybe he can help you close a few deals.”
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to completely lose my shit, but his words make me want to curl up into a little ball and disappear from sight.
Why can’t he just believe in me? Why are he and Mom so convinced I need a man to be successful?
It’s so humiliating to be talked down to, especially in front of the likes of Leon, and I hate that there’s a significant part of me that is so willing to believe them.
“Why don’t you two go and have fun?” Mom suggests.
She’s oblivious to my anxiety, which is a relief. My history of panic attacks are partly why she and Dad don’t think I can run things on my own and I don’t want to give them any hint I’m not over them. They think it’s a past problem. Something I’ve fixed. I need them to think that.
“An excellent idea, Mrs. Holloway.” Leon grabs my hand and loops it around his arm before I can stop him. “Come along, dear. Let’s go mingle.”