Page 22 of The Sounds of Her

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Page 22 of The Sounds of Her

“I’m on the board for a gala this weekend, one of your father’s non-profits. We were completing the details. It wasn’t my first choice to have it in Manhattan. I suggested the Hamptons, but everyone agreed it was easier for guests to attend if it was here.”

She crosses her legs and holds the cup and saucer hovering above her lap. I grab my coffee, wishing it were Irish.

“Are you still planning on going to that wedding?”

“That wedding? Mom, Jenna is my best friend. I’m her maid of honour, of course I’m still going. I leave on Monday, in fact.”

“Monday,” she eyes me and takes a sip of her drink, pulling a face, then setting it down.

It must be hard to go through life hating everything the way she does, always so critical. What the hell does she do for fun? Does she even know what the word fun means?

“That means you are in New York at the weekend.”

“Yes.” I clench my hand around the cup. “But I have a lot of packing to do and still have some work to wrap up before I take two weeks off.”

“Two weeks,” her eyes widen. “Do you think that is a good idea, Brooke? I’m sure the partners here are not happy about your disappearing for two weeks. That is very irresponsible of you.”

They practically begged me to take the two weeks. It’s been a long while since I’ve taken any time off, let alone left the country. My bosses are amazing, it’s why I’ve remained with this firm for all of my career.

“Everyone is fine with it, mom. Don’t worry.”

“Well, regardless. You’re going to come to the gala on Saturday night.”

“Mom, I can’t-”

“No arguments, Brooke. This event is very close to your father’s heart, you need to be there to support him.”

“Mom, I don’t have the time to come, I do appreciate the invite.”

“No buts, Brooke,” she repeats, her tone firmer. “You can do this one thing for your father. It won’t hurt you to take a few hours out of your busy social life to support him. Do you even have plans on Saturday evening?”

“I’ve got to pack.”

She looks down her nose at me, that disapproving stare perfected over the last twenty-eight years. She is probably wondering what kind of philistine does their own packing.

Mom takes an envelope out of her purse and hands it to me. “You are expected to bring a plus one, but don’t worry, I have already sorted that out for you.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Roman Campbell will take you. He will pick you up at your apartment at eight.” She sets her cup down.

“I appreciate the invite, and the date, but I can’t, mom.” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice and off my face.

Roman Campbell is dad’s business partner’s son. He is around my age and works at one of his dad’s financial companies. I have no interest in finding out anything about him. Though, if memory serves, he’s not that bad looking but he’s a fuck boy. The last thing I want is to go on a date with him.

Mom frowns, her lips tighten in a way that reminds me of a cat’s asshole.

“You’re not seeing anyone at the moment who would be worthy of coming to an exclusive gala.”

I don’t have time to answer her before she continues.

“You’re almost thirty, Brooke. I’d been married for five years at your age.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

She reaches for her bag and stands. She’s said what she needed to say, I won’t get the chance to refuse this invitation. She’ll make my life miserable, all because I’ll be letting the family down by not being there. I doubt my father even knows what this gala is for, this is her thing.

“It is black tie, so you need to wear something extraordinary. Do you need me to send you a dress?”




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