Jasmine bowled over into a fit of giggles, feet tapping on the floor as she helped herself to more of the wine Blair had poured at the start of their conversation. “Youknowsomeone in the audience was into that! So many perverted freaks! Love it!”
“Blair!” Monica hissed when she could tell that her employee was about to descend into more childish details. While Monica didn’t care what everyone talked about in a private room, people could hear everything going on in Le Salon. The last thing theowner wanted was comments that one of her most successful hostesses was “gross.”
“Anyway,” Blair continued, “I now keep fervent track of what I eat before a show. ‘Cause I never heard the end of it from Mira.”
When Jasmine came up for air, she caught sight of her husband standing behind her. “How long have you been there?” she asked with a slight smack to his arm. “Creeping!”
That was Monica’s sign to retreat into her work, especially since she wanted to get home earlier to spend the evening with her family before the in-laws arrived the next day. Before she could do that, though, Monica had to check in with the weekend manager of Le Salon since Judith was minding the Château that weekend. She also went over a few things with the bartender and the bouncer so she wouldn’t have to worry about the operations while she was home that weekend. Any time she had to think about work for the next few days had to go toward the renovations in the unit next door.
I insist on being so busy, don’t I?That sounded like something Ethan would say out loud, but Monica didn’t have time to dwell on it as she grabbed her coat from her office and messaged her driver that she was coming down.
He had soft rock playing in the car, and she didn’t ask him to change it, although she would have listened to anything else. Monica busied herself with her final plans for the next week and was home before she had the chance to see the rental car occupying her parking space.
Her driver went off duty as soon as she was inside. Maybe that was why he didn’t think to say anything – just in case the boss told him to suddenly drive her elsewhere.
“Mom!” Abigail came running through the foyer, her hair lashing back and forth and periwinkle pullover riding up her torso from how hard she pushed herself. “Look!Look!Grandma and Grandpa came a day early!”
The maid helping Monica remove her coat was almost knocked over when she whipped around and caught sight of her least favorite woman emerging from the family dining room.
“Oh, good. You’re home.” Isabella was soon followed by Henry, who looked at his wife with sympathy. “Imagine my surprise when I asked Henry where the sitting lady of the house was, and he said you wereworking.”
Monica was used to caustic personalities. Yet it was the personal ones that almost cracked her professional façade. The same one she used when dealing with her mother-in-law. “Yes, I had a few loose ends to tie up before I could dedicate myself to my family these next few days.” She approached Isabella, hands outstretched, inviting her for two cheek kisses that were as ice cold as the wind chill outside. “You’re a day early.”
Isabella certainly didn’t miss the angle of how Monica said that. “Afraid it was necessary. A snowstorm was suddenly called to roll through Bozeman and we didn’t want to be stuck. Since Henry was kind enough to have already sent the plane ahead, Gerald and I decided to get in late tonight instead of possibly never.”
Abigail hopped up and down next to her mother and grandmother, her excess energy not lost on the woman expected to mitigate this behavior in front of the “true” matriarch in the family. “You should see what they brought me!” Abigail exclaimed. “Can I show her, Grandma?”
“Of course, dear.”
Abigail flashed her right hand at her mother, who had yet to see the diamond ring twinkling on that child-sized finger. “I’m sorry, what?” Monica gasped.
“Grandma says it’s for me!” Abigail stopped her jumping long enough to admire the rock on her hand. “Isn’t that right, Grandma?”
Although Isabella caught the look of paling disbelief on Monica’s face, she snottily said, “It belonged to my mother. I’ve been holding on to it for so long, just sitting in my jewelry box, and… well, it seemed silly to let it waste. Besides, my mother was quite a small woman and this ring on Abby’s middle finger used to be worn on my mother’s ring finger, if you can believe it. She was such a delicate woman… Abigail can have it resized. Isn’t it lovely?”
Isabella’s gaze lingered on Monica’s tired face.She’s testing me.There Henry was, standing beside his mother and wife, smartly not saying anything while Abigail resumed her bunny hops while staring at her diamond ring. While there was no shortage of jewelry in that family, Monica had beencarefulabout what her daughter owned. It was mostly the usual costume jewelry most kids preferred, with a couple “real” heirloom pieces to make her feel special and like a member of her family.A ruby broach from my mother and earring studs with her genuine birthstone.She wore the latter for parties.
But a diamond? Abigail was seven. What did she need adiamondfor?
“Did you thank your grandmother?” Monica asked her daughter, whom she corralled with a snatch of her hand.
“Yes! Thank you, Grandma.”
Isabella bent down, hands on her knees as she cooed, “You’re very welcome, Princess.”
Monica barely bore hearing that. At least Isabella had no way of knowing that “Princess” was Henry’s pet name for Monica.It’s a coincidence.That’s what Monica told herself.
“Why don’t we let Monica settle in?” Henry said. “She’s been hard at work all day.”
From the way Isabella looked at her daughter-in-law, she didn’t quite believe that.
The worst part wasn’t knowing that her in-laws were a day early – it was knowing that she had to appear under the mild guise of entertaining them late on a Friday night.
When Isabella and Gerald stayed in town, they often claimed one of the spare bedrooms in Eva’s wing of the house. While Monica appreciated the physical distance between them, it didn’t stop her from having to host her in-laws in her private living room. After she and Herny tucked Abigail into bed – her hand still attached to the diamond ring she now slept with – Henry poured his parents some drinks and sat with them in the living room. Monica, who didn’t dare wear her nightwear in front of them, donned a baggy sweater with her comfortable winter leggings. It was the most “dressed down” she ever got, let alone without a skirt on.
“You’re doing well with that portfolio, it seems.” Gerald, who often skipped on these visits to save face back in Montana, where he and Isabella “retired” nearly fifteen years ago, said as he wandered what had once been his living room. Everything had changed since Monica moved in, and she didn’t doubt that Henry had changed a few things before her. What did Gerald see when he gazed into the family photos that still hung on the far wall, though? Did he see his proud heritage… or his tarnished legacy?
“Things have been going much better since we downsized many of our divisions. Unfortunately, that included the gemstone mines, which Eva was upset about.”
