Chapter 3

Early the next morning, my mom dragged me out of bed to try on dresses.

She said Leon's family would be arriving at the beginning of next month, and the welcome party was set at the Hillside Club.

We had to go over the menu, seating arrangements, scents, and wine service order all over again.

At a Grant family event, even the tiniest mistake would make us the butt of everyone's jokes.

I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, sitting in front of the vanity mirror while the stylist fussed over me, but my phone kept buzzing nonstop.

Lydia blew up my phone with a dozen messages. [After you walked out like you didn't care last night, Emily started crying.

[Charles took her to the hospital.

[Patrick kicked out those mouthy guys.

[James said you're even more irritable since you got back.

[Samuel didn't say anything, but he didn't look too happy either.]

After reading the messages, I set my phone face down on the table.

The stylist was fastening earrings for me and asked carefully, "Ms. Grant, do you think these diamond earrings are too flashy?"

"Not at all," I replied, catching my reflection in the mirror. "Flashy is my thing."

My mom overheard and laughed. "You got that right."

She always knew how to cheer me up.

Back then, my four childhood friends took turns indulging me, and I assumed that was how things were supposed to be.

But after I moved abroad, the only ones who still made me feel like I could take on the world, even in the middle of the night, were my family.

After trying on the dresses, I went with my mom to the Hillside Club.

The entire top floor was booked by the Grant family, so it wasn't open to the public during the day.

The manager trailed behind us, checking off each item on his tablet.

I was in charge of the flowers and place cards, while my mom went over the menu. For once, we actually saw eye to eye.

But I was clearly not in the best shape.

When the manager got to the refreshment arrangements for the VIP table, I absentmindedly checked the box on the confirmation sheet, but my mom snatched the file away the next second.

"This isn't right," she said, pointing to the bottom line. "Leon's dad is lactose intolerant. You pulled out the old version."

I froze for a second, then looked down. Sure enough, it was the version from before yesterday.

Maybe I hadn't slept well last night because I'd actually mixed up the two sheets.

The manager straightened up. "I'll go swap it out right now."

"Don't stress," my mom said quietly as she handed the file back to me. "It's okay to make mistakes. The real problem is your mind's somewhere else."

"Don't make the main table too crowded," I said, circling the spot on the floor plan. "Leon's mom isn't big on socializing."

The manager nodded. "So, Ms. Grant, how do you want to seat your friends?"

I hesitated, my pen hovering over the paper.

My mom glanced up at me. "It's your call."

I gave a small smile. "Just give the Reed, Carter, Lane, and Brooks families the usual seats."

"That's it?" my mom asked.

"What else do you want?" I said, snapping the pen cap on. "I'm not about to create a whole 'nostalgia table' for them."

The manager ducked his head, trying not to laugh, and even my mom cracked a smile.

Once the laughter faded, my mom suddenly asked, "Were you feeling down at Skyline Club yesterday?"

I didn't try to hide it.

"I wasn't really upset," I said, walking over to the big window and staring out at the tidy trees lining the Hillside Club. "Honestly, I was a bit disappointed."

My mom was quiet for a couple of seconds, then said, "If they're friends, you don't need to let their behavior bother you."

"Yeah, I know," I said.

I'd known that for a long time.

It was one thing to know, but when I actually felt that change hit me, it was a whole different story.

On the way back to the city at noon, I got a call from Patrick.

He was seldom this unsure. When the call connected, he stayed silent for a couple of seconds before finally speaking, "Why'd you leave so fast last night?"

"What, you wanted me to hang around and watch you buy Emily another Velvet Harmony?" I shot back.

Patrick clicked his tongue. "Why are you still bringing that up?"

"Because that was always my drink," I replied, keeping my voice steady.

He fell silent.

After a pause, he spoke quietly, "Vivian, that's not what we meant. Emily's been really fragile lately, and you don't exactly hold back. I was worried you two might end up fighting."

"Patrick, did you forget the main point?"

"What?"

"I'd have to actually care before I ever got into it with her."

I stared out the window at the trees rushing by, my voice flat. "But why should I care?"

Patrick went quiet again.

I didn't wait for him to come up with an answer. I hung up.

The moment I hung up, my face stared back at me from the car window.

I looked at myself for a few seconds, then turned away and rubbed at the corner of my eye with the heel of my hand.

The driver kept his eyes straight ahead, pretending he hadn't heard a thing.

*****

That afternoon, I headed to the old district to pick up a custom coffee set.

It was a gift for Leon's dad, a set of celadon cups, so thin they were almost translucent. I'd waited three whole months for them to be fired.

Ethan Cole came with me, and on the way, he kept fussing over the schedule. "Ms. Grant, your fiancé's family confirmed.

"It looks like we can cut the interpreter team in half. He's pretty comfortable with Clusian now."

I was busy texting, so I gave a casual "Yeah."

Ethan leaned in, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Has Mr. Grant been secretly putting in extra effort?

"Last time on the video call, he said, 'Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Grant. I really miss Vivian,' so naturally. I swear, he's probably been practicing his Clusian behind the scenes."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Pretty much."

The moment I stepped out of the car, the wind chime above the shop door tinkled.

I looked up and saw James.

He looked like he'd come from the law firm, dressed in a sharp suit, with Emily by his side.

She was carrying a plain paper bag, as she'd popped out of the bookstore next door. When she saw me, she froze for a second.

James clearly hadn't expected to run into me here either. His eyes flickered for a moment before he asked, "What are you doing here?"