Page 10 of Now & Forever
“Thanks.” Even after seven years, Gwen forgot that was a service the rich relied on, like poor people asking for Styrofoam boxes at the end of a meal. “I’ll make it up to you later this week. Maybe at the gym?”
“Sounds great.”
Gwen intended to leave with dignity. She wouldn’t spare the Welshes a single glance, nor would she try to hide her identity on her way out the door.I don’t care if they never see me. I don’t care if theydosee me and are scandalized by my beating heart.Gwen cared if they thought her a coward, instead of a woman making a harsh statement.
Haughty heiresses and their hoity-toity mothers played these games every single day. How many women had scoffed and left a room when Gwen first started coming to these places? Everyone had their petty,pettylines they drew in the metaphorical sand when someone they found displeasing walked into a room.
Gwen had never indulged in that socialite’s right until Cassandra Fucking Welsh.
“Where’s your son?”Gwen wanted to ask her.“Is he with a nanny right now, when he could be with his father? How much do you really care about the man you claim to love?”
Much to Gwen’s chagrin, however, she caught Sarah Welsh’s eye.
“Ms. Mitchell!” she called with that bird-like voice she loved to unleash upon Gwen. “How are you?”
Gwen stopped in her tracks. Half the café put down their utensils and stared at them, ready for the show of the week.
Gwen slowly turned her head, sharp, narrowing eyes glaring at the mastermind behind Operation Baby.You’re the real person I despise in all of this, Welsh.You’rethe one who put the diabolical idea in your daughter’s head.
Cassandra wouldn’t spare Gwen a glance. Perhaps it wasn’t because she thought herself so much better than Gwen. If anything, it was probably because she felt at least a little shame for what she had done, which was more shame than Sarah would ever feel.
Narcissists. They flocked together, didn’t they?
“Doing quite well, thank you, Madam Welsh.” Gwen spared her only the slightest smile. More like a smirk than a movement of mirth. “I trust that things are going your way, as usual?”
Sarah threw that smirk right back at her. “Why wouldn’t it be, Ms. Mitchell?”
Gwen was close enough that she didn’t hesitate to flip them a bird on her way out the door.Talk about that for a few weeks, you fucking hags.Not classy, but sometimes she had to put her low-class rearing to work. Anything good enough for a bar was good enough for this prissy café.
