Chapter 10 Amelia Ridley
Amelia Ridley
Amelia was over the fuss of being at the Plaza on a Monday morning.
She thought it was ludicrous, as they could have the same meals and better scenery at home.
But she knew the lives of society’s elites revolved around brunches, business meetings, and family brawls after long, exhausting weekends of parties and charity events.
Kavita usually found a way to escape Monday meetings, but not today, so soon after the fiasco of the party.
As Amelia gazed out the window, the working class passed by with their newspapers, glancing at the restaurant with a bit of envy.
But she didn’t feel anyone would truly want their lives now.
Especially with the Ridley file gone and with what Dale may have said to his peers.
“Father, did you know the Grants have moved into the property next door? You know, the grandparents’ old estate?” Amelia asked inquisitively.
He nearly choked on his grape. “What on earth are you saying, Mellie?”
“I am being serious. I saw Jamison out on the grounds with his horse. He accidentally crossed onto our riding trails,” Amelia said softly.
“Nothing the Grants do is by accident, you hear me, Amelia? Their family, especially his father, despised us when our family’s business started thriving.
He would scream ‘nouveau riche’ to anyone who would listen, saying our family couldn’t be trusted, as we haven’t proven ourselves to them.
Be careful with Jamison . . . I know you are smart, Mellie. ”
Mother could tell Father was frustrated, so she gently rubbed his shoulder.
“Our family may not have as many generations of wealth as the Grants, but we have something they lack, and that is the humility that graces each of you due to your humble beginnings, which is lacking in their children.”
This pleased Father, but it upset Amelia even more.
No matter what her family did, they would never be good enough for some people in society, who spoke kind words to their faces but spewed wicked hate behind their backs.
Amelia played with her food, twirling it on her fork, annoyed at the impending meeting that they could easily have at home.
She knew her family wasn’t like the Grants, but Jamison was different.
He never looked at her with superiority.
Her cousin Sebastien, butting in from the end of the table, spoke loudly. “I, for one, think Jamison truly fancies Mellie. Everyone can see it. That broody steel gaze doesn’t fool me for one second.”
“Sebastien, you were mighty quiet at the party. I barely saw you . . . You must have found a great dance partner,” Amelia said, trying to change the topic.
She blushed slightly when she looked up and saw a waiter escorting in none other than the Grant family.
Jamison walked a few steps behind his father and mother, almost as if trying to conceal himself, even knowing his height revealed him. He held on to the hand of one of his little sisters, who clearly wanted to dip it in the chocolate fountain.
Mr. Grant stopped by the table. “Well, if it isn’t the Ridleys,” he said merrily as if they were old friends.
Father stood up, grabbing his hand firmly. “A pleasant surprise to see you here this morning, Garrison.”
Mr. Grant gestured his hand toward his wife. “The lovely Mrs. Grant wanted to change up from the Waldorf this morning. Hope you don’t mind.”
Mother interjected before Father could say something nasty. “Ella, please, we are delighted to see you, especially those dashing girls of yours.”
Mrs. Grant darted a look at Amelia and then her mother.
“We are delighted to see your eldest here in attendance. I think she and Jamison would make a fine match. Don’t you, darling?”
Amelia nearly scoffed so loudly she had to conceal it with a cough.
Everything in these spontaneous meetings was so calculated.
How would their parents know what a fine match they were when they had spent no time with them, only ever saying vile things about the other family?
Now that she’d been announced as the future owner of the Ridley Line, had that changed things for the Grants?
Did they think she was too naive a woman to control the company, and they could sweep in with their eldest son and take over?
She seethed at the thought of them even considering undermining her.
She found it funny, but it also wasn’t wrong to entertain the idea.
Amelia had always wanted Jamison and her family to join together, but not on terms like this.
She was the type who never did anything if it felt forced.
Mr. Grant nodded like this was a perfectly orchestrated performance.
“I wanted to meet with you in a more serious manner, but as both of our families are here, I think it’s time we aligned not only on a potential marriage between those two but also on the oil business.
I overheard Wei and Omar at the party, and our family would love to bring the two greatest families in the city together. ”
Father did not hold back his tears of laughter this time.
“You expect me to believe you want—what was it you called me? ‘That ole farm boy’?—to partner with your family? I am sure your father would turn in his grave, Garrison. Cut this shit with me,” Father said in a loud voice, making the other patrons whisper, ready to tell the rest of the city.
Mother once again tried to save the conversation before it could become an all-out brawl.
“I think we could do this in a less public . . . arena. How about you all come for dinner? We can potentially discuss these rather sensitive topics further.”
Jamison said abruptly, “Excuse me, but I have to go, Father and Mother.” He nodded goodbye while shooting a glare at Amelia as he walked past her.
This sent tiny shivers down her spine. Why was he looking at her like that?
As if she were telling her mother to say those things.
If Amelia knew anything about Jamison, it was that he ran from anything and everything when it began to feel real.
Anytime he would close in on a new stage of love or something in his career, he would leave the country to escape that responsibility.
She was sure this time would be no different.
She silently laughed at herself, shaking her head, because she knew she ran from him as well.
Mirroring each other without even realizing it.
Amelia knew she had little patience, but she didn’t want that to be the case with him too.
“May I be excused?” Amelia left before even getting an answer from her father.
She grabbed her purse and looked for the nearest taxi, avoiding Mr. Pierre, who was waiting for her in the family car.
Amelia was unlike Kavita; she never wanted to drive, as she’d always found cars intimidating.
Mr. Pierre was her saving grace. Anytime she wanted to get away, he would drive her to her favorite part of Central Park or to any bookstores or cafés she pleased.
He was always there, ready. But today she didn’t need him knowing her whereabouts.
She nodded her head gently so he would know she would find her way home.
Just as the taxi was about to pull out into the street, Adesua and Kavita ran up to the car, tapping on the window.
“Care if we join you, sister?”
Amelia swung the door open. “Of course, my silly Dusie and Kavi,” she said in a luxurious high-pitched voice. “Shall we shop to our heart’s desire before some daunting news of arranged marriages and potential murder terrorizes our family?”
Thinking of morbid times, Amelia remembered when their father had taken them to his parents’ grave in Pennsylvania, showing them where he’d grown up on a farm in a tiny home that looked dilapidated.
Then only a child, Amelia cocked her head and said, “I wonder if your father and mother knew how rich you are now, would they wake up?”
Amelia had had a weird way of describing grief and bringing some light to it while growing up.
She hated to see her father sad, so saying something outlandish was her way of coping.
Today, they would let all the guilt from the party melt away by indulging in all the beautiful things life had to offer.
What were they thankful for? The shops on Fifth Avenue.
So that was precisely where they went. Monday morning was always busy in Manhattan.
You would see all the lovely flappers with their signature cloche hats and bob haircuts from any way you turned.
Amelia couldn’t bear cutting her hair, so she always pinned her curls to make her hair appear shorter, just like Kavita did.
Amelia turned to her sisters in excitement as if this were their first time visiting Fifth Avenue.
The taxi driver parked right in front of Lord & Taylor on Fifth Avenue.
It was the girls’ signature starting point.
They would work their way up the street to visit each store until their hands gave out, which was their motto.
They saw the window display filled with evening gowns, flapper dresses, and various long pearl necklaces as they approached the entrance.
A pair of wine-red gloves with black crystals stood out to Amelia.
Gloves were something that made her feel even more alluring.
The sisters pulled open the brass doors to their ideal escape.
In the midst of the hustle and bustle of the city, this was their oasis, even during the bad moments.
They’d first come here when Adesua was eleven and Amelia was twelve.
They always had a grand family dinner anytime a new sibling was adopted.
This time, it was Kavita’s special day. Mrs. Ridley usually had designers come to the home to dress all the children, but she’d wanted to show off her children in the city.
She had a desire to get them whatever their hearts desired.