“Hello, Mom. The ballroom is beautiful. You must have spent a fortune,” I said, my voice dangerously neutral.
“Yes, well, Vanessa and Nathan spared no expense,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial, haughty whisper. “Which is why I need you to promise me you won’t do anything… erratic tonight. The Halden Group executives are all here. The board of directors is here. These are important people, Emma. Titans of industry. Not the sort of people who want to hear about your dreary tax-prep struggles or your little office lease.”
I drew a slow breath.
“I don’t do tax prep, Mom. I’m a forensic—”
“Whatever it is you pretend to do,” my father interrupted, appearing suddenly at her side.
Richard adjusted the cuffs of his tailored tuxedo.
He looked perfectly at home among the wealthy guests.
He offered no embrace.
Not even a genuine smile.
“Just keep your head down. Some children make you proud, Emma. Others teach you patience. Tonight, I demand your patience. Do not speak unless spoken to.”
