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“Lance doesn’t care about me, Mom. Don’t you want me to be happy?”
“We can’t always be happy.” My mother’s nose crinkles as if she’s bitten into a lemon. “What is this truly about?” She targets me. “You’ve been engaged for a year. Every attempt to push back this wedding has been exhausted, and you’ll finally be married in three months. Our decision is final.”
My heart sinks so far in my chest that it feels as if it’s collapsed out of my body.
“But Matthew is—”
“A stranger.” My mother shuts down my attempts. “Have you thought about what people would think if you abandon your engagement to Lance? Or how your betrothed will react?”
What would happen if the public knew that Lance has been with more people than I could count on my fingers and toes? Probably nothing.
Things like that don’t matter around here, especially if you’re a man.Ha.I bet Lance went home with the caterer after yesterday’s debacle.
Men receive high fives when they get mistresses. Women get labeled as easy and exiled at all social gatherings.
Do I want to feel that level of humiliation for the rest of my life? A Greene daughter—not allowed to join the business, not able to choose her own husband, not capable of having her own ventures and ambitions.
“I could just lie low until things blow over. There’s something new every week.” I have one last move to make. As desperate as it may be, I need to try.
“Our family name will not be thatsomethingnewnext week. It was enough to have a stranger kiss you when the board was present.”
I inhale, readying my final argument. “Oliver and Clara married for love.” All the photos of my great-grandparents in my father’s office prove that. “Lance and I are not a love match.” I keep the statement neutral, not wanting to give her more reasons to dispel my terrible attempts to convince her.
My father looks up from his phone. The mention of his lineage piques his interest more than the family in front of him.
Great-Grandpa Oliver was his biggest mentor.
“You said Matthew was an entrepreneur?” My father adjusts the glasses sliding off his nose.
“That’s right. Started off his career in venture capital before deciding to build a company that focuses on protecting the environment,” I recite as though this were my own job interview.
My father appears curious. “How old is he?”
“Thirty-six,” I say.
“That’s only a few more years than us, Vivian.” Dad leans toward her, not quite touching, but an inch closer. “Is this love you have genuine? Are you certain this man isn’t using you?” my father pushes.
I try not to be hurt by his questioning. Of course he’s doubting my judgment. Quite hypocritical, especially after they’ve sold me off to a man who definitely doesn’t have therightreasons in mind.
But I have to be convincing now. He’s my only hope.
“Yes, I’m certain. I love him, Dad,” I lie. “I truly love Matthew Hudson.”
He sighs and faces my mother. “I think we should allow her to complete the On Cloud Nine marriage course with this man. I believe there’s one in Sedona next week.”
Did he just agree to let me try?
“What?” I struggle to comprehend his response.
I didn’t have to take the course with Lance. My mother vetoed it since he was already an approved choice.
“You cannot be serious.” Her voice turns gravelly. My father’s gaze remains stolid. “What about the business plans?”
“I can manage the Bradbury agreement for the time being.”
Wrinkles—the ones she spends thousands a year to cover up—crease my mother’s forehead.“Think of what’s riding on the Gold Coast,” she blares. “More than our name is at stake.”
“The trust allows it.” Dad gives me a small nod. I’m as giddy as a rocket ship, ready to launch out of my seat and run over to him with the biggest embrace. “He sounds like an appropriate enough fellow.”
