Page 71 of Power Play

“She changed the flowers again yesterday. White peonies now, which means half the centerpieces have to be rebuilt.”

“Tragic.”

“She’s nervous.”

“She’s launching her daughter into society, Mom. She isn’t invading Europe.”

My mother fought a smile and lost. “Please don’t say that around Aunt Meredith.”

“I won’t.”

“Charlie would’ve.”

The name entered so casually that my fingers stopped around the teacup before the emotion had time to follow.

Crystal’s expression softened with memory.

“He hated those events. Your father found him hiding underneath the buffet table at Meredith’s charity luncheon once.”

“I know.”

“He stayed under there for almost forty minutes.” She laughed quietly. “The caterer nearly screamed when she found him.”

I smiled because the story belonged to her too, because this version of Charlie was easier than the perfect one.

“I wish I remembered that.”

“You were little.”

“I was eight.”

“You were always quieter than he was.” She took a sip of water. “Charlie could walk into a room and make everyone his friend before dinner. You watched first. Your father used to say you were deciding whether anyone was worth your time.”

“That sounds bitchy.”

“It was adorable.” Her smile widened. “You’re wonderful at those events now too. You simply still think too much.”

The compliment should have balanced the comparison.

It didn’t.

Charlie had naturally become everything people loved.

I had apparently learned how.

Our food arrived before I could answer.

The salmon looked manageable, arranged over greens and cucumber with a piece of toast beside it. My mother complimented the presentation while I cut the fish into smaller pieces and tried not to think about how much oil glistened over the plate.

My phone vibrated inside my purse.

I waited until Crystal focused on her food before checking it.

Ryan: Surviving?

My mouth curved before I could stop it.

Charm: Brunch hasn’t killed me.