Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Tatum Wellington smiled at the man droning on in front of her.
She'd stopped listening five minutes ago but kept offering him the occasional smile of encouragement.
Wilfred Lancaster was a blowhard who loved to pontificate on any topic, being informed on everything and equally certain that his opinion was the most valuable in the room.
At a little over six feet with brown eyes and the jowls of a basset hound, he was, in fact, the biggest bore in the room.
However, he was the best cover possible. He would chat away for hours without expecting her to respond with anything other than a nod and a smile. Indeed, if she did bother to say anything, he would cut her off and dismiss her thoughts as erroneous unless they were in full agreement with his own.
Tatum offered another nod accompanied by a small smile when Lancaster paused, and he was off again, talking about foreign trade and car parts.
Anyone else would assume she was dying to leave the conversation, but Tatum was hiding in plain sight.
Hours spent working on the Ponzi scheme case had been punishing, and she simply didn't have it in her to actually talk to anyone this evening.
But her mother had insisted she come, and it was, in fact, easier to put on a dress and attend the gala than have a knock-down, drag-out fight with her. And what did that say about her?
It said she was exhausted, and her mother was a colossal pain in the ass. It said it was time for Tatum to get a life somewhere far away from the family law firm. Tatum Wellington needed to grab a spine and grow a set when it came to her parents. She stifled a sigh.
"Don't you think?" Lancaster said, staring at her.
Tatum stared back. She'd lost the thread of the conversation a good while ago.
She offered him a wan smile. "I'm sorry, Wilfred, I need to have a word with my mother before I leave for the evening.
It was lovely to see you." She gestured across the ballroom to a statuesque woman clad in a deep blue gown by the latest in-demand designer.
"Oh, of course," Lancaster said immediately.
"Do send her my best wishes." He gave a small bow and quickly moved off in the opposite direction.
Everyone feared her mother, including Lancaster.
He'd been on the receiving end of her bitter tongue on more than one occasion and was no doubt not anxious to experience it again.
Tatum didn't blame him one bit.
She headed across the ballroom toward her mother, who was holding court near the center of the floor.
Margaret Stanhope Wellington of the Connecticut Stanhopes. Bunny to her friends, but only her old friends. The people who'd known her before marriages, mergers, and reputations became currency. To everyone else, she was Margaret. To Tatum's father, Stuart Wellington, she was Maggie.
"I haven't seen you all evening," Bunny said, leaning in to air-kiss Tatum's cheek. The words were light. The meaning wasn't.
"Hello, Mother. You look ravishing this evening."
And she did. Bunny Stanhope didn't age; she curated. Her crystal-blue eyes still sparkled, sharp and observant, missing nothing. The same eyes Tatum saw every morning in the mirror. Mother’s hair was pulled back and dyed a perfect white-blonde. Expensive. Immaculate. Intentional.
"I was just saying to Joshua and Robert"—Bunny gestured to the men beside her without breaking eye contact with Tatum— “how you've been working so hard and are taking a short vacation."
To anyone else, it would have sounded like praise. Tatum heard the accusation underneath it. Absent. Distracted. Not where you're supposed to be.
"It's not a vacation, Mother. It's pro bono work to help the victims of the Granite Industries Ponzi scheme, and it's a lot of work. I just got back from Japan. I was trying to trace some of the money."
Bunny’s eyes narrowed.
"I thought that was all sorted," Joshua said with a slight frown.
"It is most certainly not all sorted," Tatum said.
Joshua Kent was tall with dark blond hair and soft brown eyes.
He cut a fine figure in his tuxedo, and as her mother's executive assistant, he hung on her every word.
Tatum loathed his smug nature and condescending attitude.
She found him repulsive and avoided him at all costs, which was difficult because he always seemed to be attached to Bunny's hip.
Bunny's smile never wavered. "Of course.
" She turned slightly. "Robert, Tatum did a magnificent job on her last case, the Wilson case.
They were so confident going into court.
Absolutely certain they would win." She looked back at Tatum.
"It was almost cruel, really, the way you pulled the rug out from under them.
" She offered a cold smile. "Her father and I can't wait to see what she does next. "
"Yes, you were a star on that one, Tate," Josh chimed in.
She hated being called Tate, especially by Josh. It was too intimate, and it made her skin crawl. He knew it, of course, and did it anyway. Purposely. She'd made the mistake of complaining to her mother about it once, and Bunny had admonished her for being jealous of Josh.
Whatever.
"Thank you," Tatum said, her jaw tightening. She dipped her head politely, then met her mother's gaze. Enough.
"Well," Bunny continued smoothly, "we're only as good as our last case. You need to find a new one."
"I am working on something, Mother," Tatum replied.
"Yes, most impressive, Tatum," Robert Fullerton agreed. "You are the talk of the town, winning the Wilson case. Makes me especially glad that my company has engaged your firm for years. I certainly want you in my corner."
"Thank you, Robert," she said, giving him a nod. "I appreciate that."
"I do think you should listen to your mother about the Granite case, though. That one is a loser for sure. There's no way anyone is getting their money back."
Tatum gritted her teeth. Two minutes ago, they were marveling at how she'd pulled a rabbit out of a hat on the last unwinnable case, and now they were ganging up on her for doing something she actually believed in.
"Yes, sweetheart, you should listen to Robert." Her father appeared at her side and kissed her cheek. "You were exactly the right lawyer for the Wilson case. You can't waste your time for too long. I've got another one in mind. It's going to be intense, and you've proven you're ready."
Tatum smiled at him but didn't answer. She had no intention of taking another case.
She was exhausted beyond belief. Her nerves were frayed to the point where she didn't entirely trust her own judgment anymore.
She'd actually thought someone had been following her earlier in the evening.
She'd spent the first half of the gala looking over her shoulder.
Ridiculous, she'd told herself. Except the feeling hadn't gone away.
"I must run," Josh said. "Bunny, I will check in with you later and see if there's anything else you need."
"Thank you, darling," her mother said and then resumed staring a hole through Tatum.
Tatum ground her teeth. Bunny thought the Granite case was a waste of time.
She was certain it would damage Tatum's reputation.
In truth, Tatum didn't care. She was pretty much done with the law.
Too many people got away with too many things, and not enough people were spared any pain or found any justice. It was exhausting and disheartening.
"I think I'm going to head out," Tatum said quietly.
"So soon?" Bunny asked, her voice softening just enough to make it dangerous. "It's early. And there are several people here who were very much looking forward to speaking with you."
"Mother, I have a headache."
Bunny stepped in, taking Tatum's arm and guiding her away from the group. Her grip was not gentle. Proprietary was a more apt description. But to anyone looking, they’d see a solicitous Bunny, concerned for her only daughter. God, how looks could be deceiving.
"You must stop doing this," Bunny said under her breath. "Drifting in and out like you don't understand how this works."
"I understand perfectly," Tatum replied.
"Then act like it." Bunny's smile never faltered as guests passed nearby.
"You've had a big success. Now is the time to capitalize on it.
These people matter. They will carry our firm for years to come.
This is where your future is decided, Tatum.
Your father and I built this firm. We carried it.
But it's your responsibility now to prove you're worthy of inheriting it. "
She could have argued that her grandfather had built the firm, but Bunny’s word of choice landed like it always did. Like a boulder. Worthy.
"I'm exhausted," Tatum said evenly. "I need a break."
Bunny's eyes cooled. "Exhaustion is not an excuse. It's a luxury. One you can afford only because of the name you carry."
Tatum inhaled slowly. "I'm leaving. These people will still be here next week. Or the week after. I can speak to them then."
"Tatum, that attitude is really—"
"Bunny, darling."
The interruption came from her right.
Bunny released Tatum's arm instantly, the disappointment already masked.
"Millie," she said warmly. "How lovely to see you."
Tatum stepped back. The headache she'd lied about a few moments ago was now pounding steadily behind her eyes. The choice had already been made. Bunny's world was not going to be Tatum's. Not for much longer.
A small tingle flared again between her shoulder blades. The same feeling she'd had earlier, the one she couldn't shake. She glanced quickly over her shoulder, but only saw a sea of people chatting and laughing, including her parents. She turned back around.
A loud crash rang out behind her.
Tatum jumped and let out a small yelp, whirling around to find that a waiter had dropped a tray of champagne glasses. She pressed her hand to her chest, hoping to quell her thundering heart rate. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath.
This had to stop. She was getting so jumpy. So paranoid. It was ridiculous, and she knew it. She squared her shoulders. She'd been promising herself a long vacation as soon as the Granite Industries case was wrapped up. It couldn't come soon enough.