Page 2 of Park Avenue Princess

They love entertaining friends, clients, and other business associates. Dad’s accounting firm has done well from the start, but in the past handful of years, he’s really acquired some lofty clientele; as Mom would say. She, of course, loves hosting and showing off. Since Mom doesn’t work outside the home, her job has always been taking care of the house and Dad. Oh, and I guess me; although I pretty much became self-sufficient by age ten.

I’d always been impressed with Dad’s work ethic, but when it meant little family time, and Mom became more focused on parties instead of raising a daughter, I quickly learned to care for myself. I’ve always had a fascination with numbers and statistics, accounting and the laws associated with that field. I guess it seemed natural that I’d follow in his footsteps, learning the business in order to one day work with him and eventually take over the firm. Especially when he’d push me to take advanced courses, heavy in math, theory, computer science, and such.

Turning my thoughts back to dinner and knowing Mom will expect me to wear a dress, I go to my closet and shuffle through the selections. It’s nearly Memorial Weekend and unseasonably warm, so I choose a red summer dress edged with what looks like white starbursts. Deciding a sweater might be needed, as Dad loves the air conditioning, I grab a bright blue one. I then run a brush through my long blonde hair and finally slide into my black ballet slippers. So what if the black doesn’t really go with my outfit. They’re comfortable and meet Mom’s approved shoe selection for around the house.

I head for the door, picking up the announcement I hoped to share at dinner. The official paperwork should arrive early next week, so it’s not as if they aren’t going to eventually find out. Graduating early hadn’t been in the plans when enrolling in the private school I attended, but I quickly found the curriculum lacking in challenge and difficulty. And even though all my classes were AP—Advanced Placement—I still took supplemental courses online, propelling my timeline and readiness for college.

Regardless of my parents’ reception, I smile to myself, thrilled with my accomplishments. Because what’s even better is the fact that the online courses I’ve already taken have fulfilled the first two years of requirements toward my Bachelor’s degree in Actuarial Science. I plan to gain that Bachelor’s degree while also studying Financial Law.

That should really impress Dad.

Pleased with my preparedness, I head downstairs towards the dining room, my spirits lifted.

While walking past Dad’s office, I hear hushed conversation with an angry undertone, even with the door closed. Wondering who could be in there with him, I linger outside the threshold, eavesdropping. Usually I wouldn’t even consider listening in on any of Dad’s private conversations, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

“You cannot expect me to continue this practice. It’s gone on too long and we’re bound to be discovered. I could lose everything.”

My eyes widen at my father’s words.

“If you don’t, you could still lose everything. Don’t make me regret bringing you in on this.”

I don’t recognize the other man’s voice, but it’s calm, not at all frantic like my father’s. Before I can listen for anymore, I hear Mom’s light footfalls nearby, causing me to jerk away from the door and hurry down the hall. Mom rounds the corner and appraises me from head to toe.

“You look very nice, Lynne, and I’ll allow you to wear your red sandals.”

“Thanks, Mom, but I’m comfortable in these.”

She purses her lips. “Well perhaps I should have said I’d prefer you wear your red sandals. Those slippers hardly match your attire.”

I sigh. “Mom, they’re fine. No one is going to care about my shoes.”

“Lynne Du—”

Dad’s office door opens, cutting off her words as she pastes on a smile and breezes past me.

“Ah, Terrence, Mr. Hamilton, I was just coming to announce dinner is ready.”

I turn and get a look at Dad’s guest. I suppose he could be considered handsome, but seeing he’s at least dad’s age, maybe a few years older at forty, I don’t think too long on that. And with the look he gives me, raking his gaze down my body then slowly up again, my creep-o-meter starts pushing its way into the red. Before I can act on the urge to move out of his sight, he turns his gaze to my mother, plastering on a bright smile.

“Rachel, please, I insist you call me Michael. Thank you for allowing me a few moments with your husband before dinner. I promise no more shop talk tonight.” He then looks back in my direction. “And this must be your lovely daughter.”

Mom whirls and pulls me to her side. “Yes! This is Lynne. Lynne, this is Michael Hamilton, a business associate of your father’s.”

“I’d like to think a friend, as well,” he says with a cunning smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Lynne. I see your mother passed her beauty on to you.”

I remain quiet as I can practically hear Mom blushing next to me. Dad then clears his throat and ushers us off to the dining room. Once we’re all seated, me thankfully at the opposite end of Mr. Hamilton, Mom bounces back out of her chair to pull the serving cart close to the table. While she’s a decent cook, Mom always has dinner catered when entertaining guests. It’s been a few years since we’ve had hired help, but she brings in a cleaning service once a month.

As Mom begins to arrange dishes on the table, I place my paper next to me, hoping to relay my news at some point. I don’t have to wait at all when I notice Dad eyeing the paper as he lifts his chin toward me.

“What do you have there, Lynne?”

“It’s the news I wanted to tell you when I arrived home.” I smile as I hold up the paper. “It’s a copy of an official announcement you’ll receive in the mail. I’m graduating early! And with the online courses I’ve been taking, I’ve already completed two years of pre-reqs toward my Bachelor’s degree.”

Dad raises his brow in surprise, but before either he or Mom can comment, Mr. Hamilton speaks. “My, my, a very driven young lady.” He turns to Dad. “You must be very proud of your daughter.”

“Indeed,” Dad supplies, never taking his eyes off me. “She’s a DuVall and I’d expect nothing less.” There’s no pride in his voice, simply a statement that anything lesswouldbe a disappointment.

My joy plummets as I turn away, not bearing to look at him, seeing no excitement in his expression. Mom still has yet to say a word as she continues to serve dinner.

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