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People nodded their heads and leaned forward in their seats as she spoke. Realizing she had the audience in the palm of her hand, she spoke with confidence and conviction. Demi only wished her mom was there to hear her speech, but she remembered Esmerelda was recording it with her iPhone and was going to share the footage. Speaking from the heart, Demi implored every woman in the room to make a difference in her community, her city and the world. “Thank you for being such a great audience, and for welcoming me into your organization with open arms. Until next time, friends, be kind, be generous and stay fabulous!”
A black woman in an ivory pantsuit surged to her feet, cheering at the top of her lungs. An oversize feather hat covered the top half of the woman’s face, but Demi would recognize her anywhere. Beaming, she descended the stairs and marched purposely toward table twenty-eight. “Mom, you made it! I’m so glad to see you.”
“I wouldn’t miss your speech for anything in the world.”
They embraced and Demi held her tight, not wanting to let her mom go. Althea smelled of peppermint and perfume and her warm hug made Demi feel loved. In spite of their differences, she adored her mom and wanted them to have a healthy, loving relationship.
“You were incredible,” Althea praised. “Way to go, baby girl!”
“Thanks, Mom.” Demi wore a sad smile. “I know you’re still mad that I resigned, but it had nothing to do with me being jealous of Gigi. I just wanted to pursue my passions. I’m sorry if I upset you or came across as ungrateful. That wasn’t my intention.”
Althea clasped her hand and led her over to a quiet corner near the window. “Honey, I owe you an apology. I was scared and upset, and I took my frustrations out on you.”
“Scared of what? You’re the most fearless woman I know.”
“Gigi’s busy with Roderick, you’re off chasing your dreams, our relatives only call when they need money, and these days I don’t have anyone to spend time with.”
“Mom, that’s crazy,” Demi said, slowly rubbing Althea’s back. “You’ll always have me and Gigi in your life. We’re your daughters and we’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
Geneviève appeared, holding her iPhone, and snapped pictures of them hugging.
“We meet again,” trilled a female voice. “Cute dress. Forever 21, right?”
Frowning, Demi glanced over her shoulder, saw Juliet standing directly behind her, and forced a smile. She’d expected to see the therapist at the event, but had hoped they wouldn’t come face-to-face. “No. My mom bought it for me at a Paris boutique—”
“Stay away from my man,” Juliet hissed, interrupting her midsentence. “Chase loves me, and we’re going to get married, so back off or you’ll be sorry.”
Demi forced herself not to laugh in the therapist’s face. She couldn’t believe Juliet’s nerve and was shocked she was making a scene at the Maidstone Club. Before she could respond, a dark-skinned woman in a floral-print dress and a red, vintage fascinator joined them. The sound of her low, haughty voice seized Demi’s attention.
“So, you’re the sex-crazed YouTuber dating my son,” the stranger said, peeling off her satin gloves. “I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but it’s not.”
Demi froze. Taken aback by Ms. Harris’s cold demeanor, she didn’t know what to say in response and stared at her for a long moment. Geneviève elbowed Demi in the side and she snapped out of her haze. Even though the expression on Estelle’s face could scare a hardened criminal, Demi greeted her warmly. “Mrs. Crawford, it’s great to finally meet you,” she said, determined to make a good first impression. “I’m Demi Harris.”
“No, you’re a home wrecker,” Juliet spat. “And I’ve had enough of you.”
From the stage, the emcee called for attendees to join the group picture, but Demi didn’t move. “I don’t understand why you’re pursuing a man who obviously doesn’t want you. Chase has moved on with his life and you should, too.”
Estelle spoke through clenched teeth. “I know what my son needs, and it’s not you...”
Juliet wore a triumphant smile.
“Chase needs a professional, educated woman, not an immature girl who spends her day posting about asinine things such as glitter makeup, sex toys and one-night stands.”
Althea stepped forward and raised an index finger in the air. “Insult my daughter one more time and I’ll give you the beating of your life.”
“You don’t scare me,” Estelle said, folding her arms across her chest. “I grew up in the South in the sixties, and if I can survive the race riots, I can beat anything, including you.”
Demi’s mouth fell open. Despite her wealth and sophistication, Mrs. Crawford was worse than a schoolyard bully, and Demi feared the women were going to come to blows. She certainly didn’t want to see her mother get hurt in a fight, and she could imagine the headline now: Pop Star and Lifestyle Expert Brawl at Maidstone Club. She shuddered at the thought.
“Is that right?” Althea yanked off her gold, clip-on earrings. “Bring it on.”
Thinking fast, Demi linked arms with her mom and gestured to Geneviève to do the same. Scared all hell was going to break loose in the grand ballroom, Demi searched for the nearest exit. “Goodbye, Mrs. Crawford. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon, and all the best in your recovery.”
“Mom, let’s go,” Geneviève said, patting her arm.
Althea argued and protested as her daughters led her past the dessert tables, through the open doors and out into the corridor. Attendees joined them, praising Demi’s keynote address, but their kind words didn’t boost her spirits. Her conversation with Estelle Crawford had left a bitter taste in her mout
h and she couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of sadness.
