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That was mostly true of my sister, but it’s not at all true of me.
I’m wearing Amber’s stylish clothes and accessories, which are much more fashion-conscious than Scarlett’s. She has a graduate degree and a career working with rare books, while right now I do nothing but fiddle with jewelry and spend a lot of money.
It suddenly bothers me that this other woman might think I’m looking for an easy lifestyle. That I don’t want William for real—for who he is.
We go through introductions and preliminaries at the bar until the host comes over to tell us our table is ready. As we’re walking over, William puts a hand on the back of my neck and slows me down, leaning over to murmur, “What’s wrong?”
I blink up at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Something is bothering you. Don’t you like them?”
“Oh yes. Of course I do. They both seem great.”
“Then what’s going on?” His eyes search my face with unnerving scrutiny.
I sigh. Part of me still wants to deflect, but I tell him the truth anyway. “It’s nothing big. Just feeling like an empty-headed loser surrounded by such smart, successful people.”
“What the hell?” he mutters. He’s stopped walking now. Turns me toward him so he can see me fully.
“It’s silly and irrational. It just feels like I haven’t accomplished anything. And I don’t want… anyone to think I’m just after a rich husband.”
He’s frowning as he gazes down at me, but the resonance shifts from disapproval to consideration. “Why would anyone think that about you?”
I almost giggle. “Oh my God, William. I guarantee you that’s what two-thirds of people who meet us assume. You fund my lifestyle of shopping and salon appointments, and I’m a glittery accessory in your life. It’s fine.” With a sigh, I remember that William believes I’m Amber. His agreement with Amber was a financially driven arrangement. Openly so. “Actually, it’s true.”
“It is not true.” He scowls. “You are not an accessory. Don’t you dare objectify yourself that way.”
He’s so defensive—defensive of me—that my chest aches. My face twists briefly. “Thank you.”
He leans down to kiss me quickly. Then he puts a hand on my back and guides me over to catch up with Arthur and Scarlett at our table.
I shake off my insecurities so I can be a good conversationalist. William is reserved by nature, and he doesn’t talk easily in social situations except for the kind of empty niceties that are typical of cocktail parties. Tonight he’s quieter than normal, so I make extra effort to maintain pleasant interaction. Arthur is clearly as reserved as William, but he’s more relaxed. Although Scarlett and I are the primary talkers, Arthur smiles a lot and asks some interested questions.
We talk about Scarlett’s work and about the future of the Worthing holdings and how Scarlett had a serious head injury and ended up with amnesia that took her memory of six whole months of her life.
The story is fascinating and heart-wrenching, and I ask a lot of follow-up questions because I’m so invested in it. So dinner passes quickly. After we order dessert, Scarlett must decide she’s talked enough about herself. She changes to subject to ask about me.
I have to tell her I never went to college and never had a job. The job thing isn’t true about me, but it is true about Amber and that’s who I’m supposed to be.
Before Scarlett can reply, William cuts in. “She makes amazing jewelry. Show them your bracelet.”
He hasn’t been talking a lot, so I’m startled and stare at him for a minute before I can respond. Flushing slightly, I unlatch the bracelet on my wrist and pass it over to Scarlett. “It’s nothing special.”
Scarlett appears genuinely delighted as she looks down at the bracelet. It’s a delicate gold chain of sculpted links and pretty, inexpensive sapphires.
I’m proud of it. It’s one of my favorite pieces I’ve made recently. But now I’m the center of attention, and I don’t know what to do with it.
“It’s beautiful!” Scarlett’s eyes are big and sincere. “You actually made this?”
“Yeah. It’s in the family. Delacourte. You know? We all learn the skills.”
She admires it for a long time, clearly awed, and then passes it over to Arthur.
He studies it closely. “This is remarkable.” His eyes lift to my face. “This is more than skill. It’s art.”
I flush deeper, pleased and gratified and self-conscious. “Thanks.” I bite off the impulse to say it’s not that good.
The fact is the bracelet is good. Better than good. And I made it.
