With my hand resting under my chin and watching them both, my boredom grows by the minute. Being here with them is so painful that I itch for the outside. For freedom. Air.
Celebrity gossip and fashion aren’t interesting topics, given that all I have to my name are the plainest cotton panties provided by Stonehill. No expensive lace or silk. I’m not sure they’re even real cotton.
“How is the publicity for the new book coming along?” Elise asks, changing the subject swiftly, which Gabriella must love, given that it’s all about her.
“Busy, but amazing,” she gushes. “I’ll be going on the radio in a few weeks, and Naomi Wallas wants me on her talk show. Can you believe that?”
“That’s amazing news. Anyone would be lucky to get a chance to sit and talk with you. I mean, I barely get to see my author stepmother these days.”
“Nonsense, I always have time for you.” I snort, which earns me a nudge under the table with her foot. But I can’t help it, wondering if Elise would be so in awe if she knew Gabriella hired a ghostwriter.
Not that anyone ever believes me.
A little while later, as their voices drone on, I find myself staring at Elise, always holding a fascination for the lucky ones in this city and what makes them so free and untouchable. I know the answer, of course. The only thing that makes the world tick—money.
Elise has a rich daddy to keep the monsters away. Although Lawrence married my mother, he made it clear over the years that he was never going to step into the role of being my father. And my own father didn’t keep the monsters away. He fed me to them.
“What do you think of the fall and winter collections for this year, Heidi?” I blink, realizing I’ve done it again—drifted off into my own thoughts.
What are they talking about now? Oh, yeah, fashion.
“I don’t really follow,” I mumble, hating that she’s talking to me. “I just wear whatever.”
“You mean you wear what you’ve been given?” Gabriella pipes in, amusement peppering her tone.
Leaning back in my chair, shame prickles, like thorns stabbing my skin as I glance down at my outfit. I’m wearing Elise’s hand-me-downs, dark blue jeans, a floral top I don’t like, and a pink hoodie.
Stonehill has us all wear gray buttoned tunics and matching pants while we’re there. But Gabriella makes me change before she takes me out, always bringing Elise’s old clothes from the time she lived with them.
Elise smiles timidly, cheeks staining pink, and quickly changes the subject. Maybe because she’s watching me gripping the butter knife so damn tightly.
“I have news,” she announces after the waiter serves us plates of grass. I hadn’t noticed him come over to take our orders.
“Oh?” Gabriella’s eyebrows rise in wonder.
“Yes, there is a reason I wanted to meet with you both. You’ll never believe it, but Scott proposed!” Lifting her hand, she shows off a massive rock sparkling on her finger, something I realize she hid well by keeping her hand under the table.
“Oh! Elise!” Gabriella grabs her hand to take a closer look. “I never thought he’d do it. Congratulations!”
“Neither did I. But Scott finally did in front of his family after Sunday dinner. He was such a sweetheart—got down on one knee and said how much he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with me.”
“What a gentleman. I’m delighted for you. A lovely bit of news,” Gabriella gushes. “Does your father know?”
“He does, of course, since Scott asked his permission. Daddy was going to tell you yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person myself. We want it in the summertime and are already searching for a venue. We could use your expertise.”
“Of course.” Gabriella places her hand on her chest, flattered that she’s being asked. “I would be honored. And I believe I have the perfect place in mind.”
Abandoning the rabbit food, I make my way out onto the veranda that’s not far from our table. They don’t notice I’ve left, too busy discussing wedding plans with the fantastic Scott Link.
Leaning against the railing, I breathe in the crisp, autumn air. It’s then that a single golden leaf blows off a tree nearby and dances in the air, eventually landing beside me. Picking it up, I observe its undamaged exterior. Beautiful. Perfect.
It shouldn’t have left the tree.
Crumbling it in my hand, it breaks into tiny pieces, and when I open my palm, the wind carries it away. Forever broken. Because nothing can stay whole in this city. I know that better than anyone.
Chapter Two
After brunch, Gabriella calls her driver to pick me up. She has an appointment to get her monthly dose of Botox, and I’m glad because it means I won’t have to see her for the duration of my visit.
Now, her home isn’t what we used to live in—a run-down, two-bedroom shithole situated in Horn Hill. This posh pad is far from what Gabriella used to have.
Used to be.
When I was younger, I don’t recall a time when she wasn’t obsessed over mansions, the rich, and their extraordinary lives. She often had arguments with Dad—never happy with what she had. That he couldn’t provide everything, she desired and deserved with his menial factory job.
After a while, he stopped listening, turning to alcohol to dull the ache. Then my sister, Nicole, stopped listening too, bored by her antics. That was when she enlisted me to be her new audience, and I was more than happy to be.
I’d sit for hours while she talked about her dreams and hopes of one day being proud of her achievements. It’s funny that I once idolized her. Whenever she described the life we were going to have when we moved away from Horn Hill, I’d get excited. Like her, I didn’t want to be stuck in Horn Hill—a scary place where all society’s
