I sigh, tearing off a piece of the bao. “You all enjoy this way too much.”
“Obviously,” Sophie quips, popping a dumpling into her mouth. The conversation drifts as we sort through the floral arrangements for the charity event. Mum fusses over the details, making sure the bouquets are just right, while Maeve turns her attention to the bouquets. “Maeve, sweetheart,” Olivia says, gently prying a clump of baby’s breath from her tiny hands. “We’re trying to make it pretty, not… abstract.”
Maeve pouts. “But the flowers are fighting. They want to be together!”
Sophie laughs from the counter. “Future floral artist in the making. Watch out, Lila.”
I force a smile, but tension lingers beneath it. I’ve been on edge all day, ever since it arrived. The envelope with Ashcroft Holdings stamped across the front. It sits on the counter, taunting me, waiting to be opened.
Not yet.
“Lila,” Olivia calls out, pulling me from my thoughts. “Weneed more greenery for the centrepieces. Where’s that eucalyptus?”
I nod, grabbing a bundle from the worktable and handing it to her. “Here. You’ve got this, bossy.”
She grins. “Someone has to keep this operation running smoothly.”
Willow, ever the voice of calm reason, quietly finishes tying bows around the vases. “The gala is going to look beautiful. Sophie, your dad’s going to be so proud.”
Sophie’s smile softens. “I hope so. He’s had a rough year. This fundraiser means a lot to him.”
A pang of emotion hits me, and I’m grateful for the distraction of the flowers. I know how much this event means to Sophie, how much her dad’s battle with Parkinson’s has shaped her life. This isn’t just about raising money, it’s about hope.
“I’m glad we could help,” I say, my voice steady even though my chest tightens. “Your dad deserves a night like this.”
Sophie squeezes my hand briefly before turning back to her task.
Olivia, on the other hand, has already eyed the envelope on the counter like it’s about to explode. “Are you really going to ignore that all night?”
I glance at the envelope, my stomach twisting. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Don’t.” Olivia walks over and hands me the envelope. “Open it. Let’s see what the devil himself is up to now.”
I hesitate, fingers brushing over the paper.
“Lila?” Her voice is soft, laced with concern. “What’s going on?”
I clench my jaw. “It’s another offer.”
Mum walks over, wiping her hands on herapron. “Let me see.”
I hesitate.
But she’s already plucking the envelope from my grip, her brows knitting together as she pulls out the letter. Silence stretches as she reads, her expression shifting from confusion to shock. Her lips part slightly. “This… is more than last time.”
“How much more?” I ask, my throat suddenly dry.
Mum’s eyes flick back to the paper, scanning the numbers again like they might change. “Ten per cent more,” she says, barely above a whisper.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
The air in the cafe stills.
Willow lets out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s…” she struggles for the word, before settling on, “disappointing.”
My jaw clenches, heat rising up my spine. Of course, he’d do this. Ben actually thinks we’re desperate enough to take this? I should have seen it coming.
“It’s an insult,” Olivia mutters, shaking her head. “Like throwing pocket change at a problem and expecting it to go away.”
