Page 91 of Beauty Beneath the Sorrow
She audibly huffs. “As my daughter, I expect more from you during these events.”
“Oh, don’t I know that?”I retort.
“It’s important to keep up appearances. That was a very expensive and exclusive charity event, and sometimes I don’t think you realize how certain things look to others.”
Here we go again, the speech about how important other people’s opinions are.
“I don’t give fuck about what other people think,” I snap. “You know that.”
She exhales. “I do. But you’re my daughter, and sometimes you have to put yourself aside.”
I shake my head even though she can’t see my reaction. “I’m never going to do that. What did you call me for?”
“I wanted to know if you’d heard anything from the event?”
“Like what?”
“If people liked it or not.” Her response is tight as if I should have known what she meant. I walk over to the living room and drop onto the thick cushions of my white sectional. She drives me fucking crazy, but she is who she is, and I can’t change her.
“The people I spoke with said they had a lovely time. You did a great job on this event.” I tuck my phone into the crook of my neck.
“Really? I knew it. I have a gift, Lina. I do.” My comment helped her ego grow. It’s sickening, and I hate participating in inflation.
“Yeah.”
“Did anyone say anything about my dress?” she prods. “It was worth more than your jeep.”
“That’s nice, Mom.” I bite my tongue as sarcastic comments roll in. “It was beautiful.”
“And it was custom,” she adds.
“Fabulous.”
“How’s Zoe?” She changes the subject now that her narcissistic bucket is filled.
“She’s good. Her midterm GPA is 3.75,” I say, proud of my sister’s economically savvy use of men for her schoolwork.
“I hope she’s learning a lot in her business classes. She never wants to talk to me about school.”
I glance upstairs in the direction of my sister’s room. “What kid does?”
“Her dad is so worried about her excelling in her marketing and business classes.”
I giggle, thinking about how my sister is using her entrepreneurial passion. “Oh, she is. Tell him not to worry. She’ll be running a successful business in no time.”
“That’s nice. Okay, well, I have to run. Elijah and I are going to opening night at the opera house tonight.”
“Have fun.”
Wiggling into the fluffy pillows, I stare at the ceiling and wonder how I’m going to spend my free night at home. Avery is flying, Piper is in California, and Bailey and Mason are probably being the perfect little “Leave It to Beaver” family.
A bottle of wine, takeout, and a romantic comedy movie are calling my name. I lift off the couch and head to the kitchen, but suddenly, I feel emptiness.
I wonder what Carter is doing.I do miss him. Why does nothing else sound appealing right now? I pace in my living room for a few minutes before deciding that I’m going to see him. A smile crawls across my face as a thought forms. I’m going to surprise him at his place. If he’s not home, then I’ll text. I’msure he’ll be happy to see me.
By the time I pull up to his building, I’m crawling out of my skin with excitement. My chest feels light and free. It’s an unplanned meeting, and these are my favorite ones with him. Bouncing from one foot to the other, I walk right up to the lobby on the first floor. From the corner of my eye, I see two women walking in the courtyard with a small dog. One I recognize—his neighbor, Abby.
The recognizable woman with the long brown hair waves me over. “Carter’s friend, right?”
