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BLAKE
"The trip was wonderful, Elena. It was amazing." I ran my hands through my hair and looked out the window at the Boston Common, wishing we were still on the island and that I had Lucas all to myself. "Nikki and the rest of the girls did a great job at the wedding. The whole thing was perfect."
"Nikki said they behaved," Elena said. "Did they?"
"Absolutely," I lied.
"This is the most money we've ever made from one client," she said. "If you can keep him happy, he could be a huge source for referrals going forward."
"He seems happy. I think so, anyway. We haven't had any trouble with his family since the wedding." I was glad Elena couldn't see my furrowed brow. We hadn't heard a word from Serena, which unsettled me. She'd been polite to me at the wedding, almost friendly. But I knew she would never sit by and watch Lucas inherit half of all that money without some sort of fight.
"Good. Let's stay in touch. Check in with me if you need anything. Otherwise, I'll call you in a few weeks."
We hung up, and I called my mother next. I looked at my rings, feeling guilty. I couldn't even send her a picture without breaching my confidentiality clause. She would never see me in that wedding dress or see the happy smile that had graced my lips.
Maybe it was better that way.
She answered on the first ring. "Honey, hi! I'm so glad you called. I missed you so much." She paused to cough for a moment, a deep, congested sound.
"Are you okay?"
She waited until her coughing subsided to speak. "I've just been a little off-kilter this week, but I'm fine. I'm taking my medicine. I'm doing all the right things… It's just the humidity, I think."
New England summers were notoriously humid, but that wasn't why she sounded so congested. "You need to call the doctor."
"I don't need to do any such thing. Your sister's here, taking care of me." Her cheerfulness sounded forced.
"What the fuck is Chelsea still doing there?" I hissed, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My mother hated it when I cursed, and she hated it even worse when I cursed about my sister.
"Blake—stop it."
"What's her highness saying about me now?" I heard Chelsea ask sharply from the background. I could just picture them sitting in my dingy kitchen, the cheerful drapes from Target failing to mask the moldy window frames and the view of the paint-peeling, multi-family housing unit smack dab next door.
"We saw your picture in the paper," my mother said tightly. "You look beautiful."
My heart sank at the word we. I glimpsed at the Globe, lying open to our wedding announcement, which displayed a gorgeous picture of Lucas and me from our photo shoot in the park. The article listed all of Lucas's accolades and was packed with lies about me. "Oh. Thanks."
"Let me talk to her," my sister snapped, grabbing the phone. "You're married? To a billionaire?"
"Um… yep." I had no idea what my mother had told her.
"Since when?" I could almost see the look of complete indignity warping my sister's pretty face.
"Since Lucas asked me to marry him and we got married last week."
"Why didn't you invite Mom?"
"I couldn't," I said quickly. What had my mother told her? "Lucas and I wanted… to keep it private."
Chelsea snorted. "You had a hundred people at the 'small, intimate and luxurious' Vegas ceremony," she quoted. "Did you feel like you needed to keep the riffraff out?"
"That's why you didn't get invited," I said, unable to hold back. Chelsea always knew how to push my buttons. "Mom couldn't come because she was too si
ck to travel."
"Everything in the announcement about you is a lie," she said. "You're a hooker, not a branding expert with a degree from UNH. The only advanced degree you have is in deep throating."
"Chelsea!" My mother sounded horrified.
