Rhonda looked her daughter. “You hired her to escort you to functions, Kathleen?”
Kathleen stopped fidgeting with her glass and looked her mother in the eye. "I did, Mom. You know how awkward I am at mixing. I hate going out amongst people. This was my choice. I’m not asking for your approval, only understanding."
There was an awkward silence and then John finally spoke, "The girl’s right, Rhonda. She’s an adult and can make her own decisions without criticism from us. Personally, Kathy love, I think you made a wise decision. From what I see of Veronica, she’s a woman with experience who looks after those in her care. What does it matter that you paid her to be your companion. What’s important is that she made you feel at ease in an environment you weren’t comfortable in.”
Kathleen looked at him, relief etched into her face. “Thanks, Dad. I knew you’d understand. I heard about the agency from a friend who is as shy as me. I had to go to that gala dinner for the Institute—I was expected to go because my research depends on funding. Veronica made it bearable for me and she’s…um…been teaching me how to interact better socially.”
Marise let the pause stretch, allowing John’s support to settle the tension. She didn’t want to interfere, but she also wasn’t going to let Rhonda’s disapproval stay unchallenged. She set her glass on the coffee table. “Mrs. Knowles,” she said, her voice firm, “I understand why you’re uncomfortable. If I had a daughter, and someone like me walked through the door, I’d have questions too.”
Rhonda said nothing, but her fingers tapped once against her knee. She was listening.
“What I did was legal and discreet. The agency employed us to give people company and a break from loneliness with dignity. You’d be surprised how many people at these fundraisers and galas hire someone for a night, to have a pleasant, intelligent conversation without performance. It’s not about sex.”
Kathleen shifted beside her, saying nothing, but Marise could feel her approval like a quiet warmth at her side.
Rhonda folded her arms. “You expect me to believe there was no manipulation in that? No power imbalance?”
“I’ve walked away from more clients than I’ve taken on,” Marise replied. “And I never stayed in a situation where I wasn’t the one in control. I had strict rules. That’s more than I can say for a lot of people in more ‘respectable’ professions.”
That landed. Rhonda’s gaze flicked down for a moment. Then she looked up again. “And now?”
“I’ve stepped away, because I’ve found something that matters more. Someone.” She glanced at Kathleen, who blushed but didn’t look away. “I’m not here on a contract. I’m here because I want to be.”
The room was quiet. Even the gentle hum of the speakers had faded as the playlist shifted to silence.
It was John who broke it first, clearing his throat as he leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. “I think what Veronica’s trying to say is—she’s not hiding from what she was. And frankly, I’d rather our daughter be with someone who knows who they are than someone pretending to be perfect.”
Kathleen gave a small laugh, somewhere between surprise and gratitude. “That’s exactly it.”
Rhonda looked at her husband, then at her daughter, and finally at Marise again. “I appreciate that you’ve been honest with me. I care about my daughter’s happiness.”
Marise nodded. “So do I, but ultimately, it’s her decision what she does.”
There was a moment of silence before Rhonda smiled, albeit reluctantly. “You’re right. Kathleen will do what she wants and her heart’s set on you.”
Marise gave an answering smile. “Then I’m the lucky one.”
Rhonda sighed and rose. "Shall we adjourn to the dining room. The meal is ready.”
Marise got to her feet. "It smells great."
As they walked out of the lounge, Kathleen squeezed her hand. Marise felt the pressure of it, warm, loving and anchoring.
“Dad,” Kathleen said when they sat down. “Veronica is mad keen on cars. I was telling her about your collection.”
John’s face lit up. “Are you now, Veronica? After lunch, I’ll show you what I have in the garage. You’d be interested in the Porsche 356 Carrera Speedster I bought last year.”
“You have one of those?” said Marise in awe. “The Carrera trim is incredibly rare.”
John beamed at her, with a nod of approval.
Kathleen reached for Marise’s hand under the table and gave it a quiet squeeze. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes said it all.You are perfect.
And for once, Marise believed it.
They didn’t speak much on the drive back.
Kathleen kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting in Marise’s lap, fingers tracing gentle circles against herjeans. Outside, the city was starting to glow gold around the edges. It felt like it was finally the beginning of something.
