"True," Sterling said, nodding sagely. I wasn't much taller than Sterling, but my small frame made it seem like I was. Wearing heels all the time didn't hurt either. In contrast, Sterling was barely 5' 2" and all curves, with a bombshell figure I'd envied ever since she hit puberty.
I handed back the fairy queen dress and Sterling set it in a new pile I thought of as my keepers. She picked up the next dress and immediately chucked it into the 'sell' pile, not asking my opinion. I didn't argue. Grey and boring, I'd happily never wear it again.
I wouldn't have guessed Sterling could be so efficient. In less than an hour, we'd sorted the mountain of dresses on my bed into three piles; Sell, Keep, and Maybe. Sterling sent me to my closet to hang up the 'Keep' pile, and ruthlessly dealt with the 'Maybe' pile, bringing me only two of the Maybe dresses before she helped me finish hanging the keepers and dragged me over to the stack of suits on my desk.
I fought her on the suits. I knew I couldn't keep them all, but I was worried about getting rid of too much and then needing to buy clothes for a job I didn't have yet. Sterling shook her head in disagreement. "I'll pick out everything you could wear to work at the Inn. That's a good benchmark since I doubt you'll work anywhere more formal than that. I'll save one or two suitable for a more social event, and the rest have to go. Trust me, in such good condition and with these designers, they're worth more for re-sale than they are in your closet."
I chewed on my lower lip, about to argue, when a knock sounded on the door. Glad I'd pulled on a robe during our last trip to the closet, I called out, "Who is it?"
ChapterEleven
PARKER
"Savannah," came the response.
At my smile, Sterling unlocked the door and ushered Savannah inside before closing and locking it behind her. Savannah came to an abrupt halt just inside the door, her eyes wide. "What happened in here?" she asked, a little breathless.
"Fundraising," Sterling answered, succinctly.
Savannah nodded, sagely. "Good idea. Want some help? Or food? Tea? I realized you both missed lunch and wanted to see if you needed anything." With a confidence that spoke of long familiarity, she added, "Plus, I was curious."
I'd known Savannah my entire life. We were the same age, and until a few years ago her mother, Miss Martha, had been the head housekeeper at Heartstone Manor. In my father's household, there were clear lines between help and family and I had been no rebel. I'd known better than to get too attached to Savannah.
Forging a real friendship wouldn't have been good for either of us or for Miss Martha. While we hadn't been best friends, we had been friendly. I couldn't think of anyone I would rather have running our lives now. Far more than staff, Savannah was family. With my father gone, I could finally treat her that way without worrying she'd pay a price for my affection.
"We'd love something to eat," Sterling threw out, "Have you had a break? Wanna hang out and help me make Parker try stuff on? She has a killer wardrobe, even if most of it isn't her style."
"I'm not sure I know what my style is," I added with a shrug.
"Not this stuff," Sterling said, raising an eyebrow at Savanna in invitation.
Savannah gave us a slow smile back. "Actually, I missed lunch and I have some time before I have to get organized for dinner. I'll be back. Hot tea or iced?"
"Hot," Sterling called after her. "With those little butter cookies? The ones with the sugar on top?"
"On the way," Savannah called back, the door shutting behind her.
When Savannah returned, pushing a cart stacked with silver-lidded plates and a steaming pot of tea, I was wearing a black suit Tyler had picked out for an event I'd long forgotten. She took one look at me and raised an eyebrow, "Who died?"
Sterling flashed her a smile. "Right?" Twirling her finger in the air, she ordered, "Take it off and put it in the 'Sell' pile. You're not an undertaker or an accountant. How something this expensive can be this blah is beyond me."
Stripping off the suit and carefully hanging it back up, I agreed. "I haven't met any undertakers, but none of the accountants I know would be caught dead in something this dull."
"Do you know a lot of accountants?" Savannah asked, handing me a plate with a mini quiche and a delicate fork.
"Not really," I admitted, "only the Kingsleys' accountants, who came to the house a few times a year. Porter Kingsley didn't go to people, people came to him."
"Was he an asshole like Dad?" Sterling asked.
I choked back a startled laugh. I wasn't used to everyone talking so openly about what a bastard our father had been. Shaking my head after I managed to swallow, I said, "No, he was nothing like Prentice. He could be a hard ass. He butted heads with Nash all the time because Nash didn't want to join the family business. And he mostly ignored Tyler, because he didn't have the patience to put up with him. But he was kind to me, and he was so sweet with Claudia. He really loved her. I don't think she'll ever get over losing him the way we did."
My phone chimed with a text. Without realizing I was doing it, I looked at the screen, expecting to see Nash's name. Because we'd just mentioned him. Not because I was hoping he'd text me. Of course not. Why would he? He wouldn't.
As if to punish me for my idiotic fantasies about my brother-in-law, my husband's name showed on the screen. I tapped the message, dreading what I would find.
you can't imagine what i'm going to do to you when you come crawling back to me. tell your bitch to back off. i'm getting a new lawyer and we're going to destroy you. by the time we're done, you'll be begging me
Begging him for what? Mercy? For him to take me back?
