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My mother shrugs. “I can’t be bothered to memorize a new name every time there’s a change in staff.”
Which is exactly why the staff here changes so often. Every new employee signs an NDA before they’re hired so they can’t tell outsiders how horrible my family is to work for.
Katheryn moves her gift off to the side without opening it, which I expected and why I gave her peppermint sugar scrub instead of tea. She’ll likely re-gift it without ever opening it, so I hope whoever receives it appreciates my efforts.
Mia had suggested a spa line for the website, an idea I’m still playing with. Sugar scrubs are easy to make and store, but would people go to a tea shop to buy them? They’re edible, at least, in case anyone mistakes them for a tea additive.
I pluck the white cloth napkin from my stack of plates and settle it on my lap before I turn to my mother. “So, to what do we owe this family dinner?”
The last time we had one was when Mother informed us Father would no longer be coming home. The time before that had been when Nana Rose passed away, leaving her fortune to her other daughter, much to my mother’s rage. But Aunt Theona is younger by two decades and has five Alpha children to raise, while Katheryn and I were both already through schooling by that point.
Mother lifts her glass of wine and takes a dainty sip before setting it down. “Must we get right to business? It’s been so long since you’ve both been at the family home. You, with your little shop, and Katheryn with her flat in the city. My nest is empty.”
I’d hardly call Katheryn’s place little. She rents the penthouse suite in the heart of Rockhaven’s party scene, within walking distance of any form of high-class entertainment. But she still spends most weeks here at the mansion. Mother just misses that while she’s out doing charity work to support underprivileged ballerinas, or whatever her newest cause is.
“The shop’s busy,” I say as she takes another sip of wine. “You should stop in to see it.”
“Oh, no, I simply don’t have the time.” Mother blots non-existent drops from her perfect, smudge-resistant lipstick. “Between luncheons and budget meetings, my entire day is gone.”
Katheryn nods in agreement, as if it’s perfectly acceptable that neither of them has made it to my store since it opened. Father was the only one who showed any interest when he helped me scout locations and research tea vendors. But now he’s too busy with his new wife to drop by, either.
The butler returns, a silver teapot and china cups balanced on a tray. Behind him follows the house chef with a platter of tiny triangle sandwiches and cups of soup.
Not the elaborate meal I expected when I arrived. Is Mother back on one of her diets? I’ll have to grab a burger on my way home. There’s no way I’ll fill up on what looks like tomato and prosciutto sandwiches with gazpacho.
“Thank you, Archibold,” Mother says as the food is placed in front of us and he pours the tea. “I will call if you’re needed again. Otherwise, please make sure we are not disturbed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With a bow, he ushers the chef back to the kitchen.
As they leave, the knot in my stomach returns. This feels like Father’s leaving all over again. But what new catastrophe could have struck the family?
I force myself to take a spoonful of gazpacho, not tasting the hearty blend of vegetables or the tang of lime and vinegar. The quiet clink of silverware against bowls fills the room, no one making conversation. We don’t have much to talk about in general, and tension fills the space, making it even more uncomfortable. It feels like a pendulum swings over our heads, waiting for the end of dinner before it comes crashing down.
When Mother pushes her bowl and plate of untouched sandwiches aside, Katheryn and I do the same with a sigh of relief.
Mother picks up her teacup and takes a sip before pushing that aside as well. “I have news, my darlings, and it isn’t good.”
The knot in my stomach tries to push out the small amount of food I forced down.
Katheryn bypasses her teacup and goes straight for her wine glass, clutching the slender stem for support. “Is Father coming back?”
For a moment, Mother looks startled, as if the idea had never occurred to her. And why would it? She got what she wanted from the marriage. A higher station within society, numerous properties, and children to continue the family line.
At last, she shakes her head. “No, darling. Gregory has left the country.”
It takes me a second to place the name. “Our accountant?”
She nods sharply. “Yes.”
Kathryn relaxes. “Well, that’s unfortunate, but hardly worthy of calling us home to make the announcement. I’m sure one of the partners?—”
“He’s taken our fortune with him,” Mother cuts in.
“What?” Katheryn shrieks, while the tension in my body seeps away. “How could he?”
“He had unlimited access to our accounts and invested in several offshore businesses, which he now controls.” Mother gives us a solemn stare. “We are now destitute.”
As Katheryn sputters, I fight back a laugh. “We’re hardly destitute. We can sell some properties, cut back on expenses…”
