The Merriest Magnolia (Magnolia Sisters #2) - Michelle Major Page 0,13

a heavy weight. “Hi, Mom,” she said and took a hesitant step forward. What was the appropriate greeting for a parent she had virtually no relationship with at this point in her life?

Vanessa’s gaze flicked to Amy, who was watching the interchange with unveiled curiosity.

“You’re too thin,” her mother said as she leaned in and gave her a quick and awkward peck on the cheek. “I’ve reserved a table for high tea. You should eat an extra scone.”

“Um, okay,” Carrie agreed, feeling color rise to her face. First Dylan and now her mother critiquing her weight. Did she really look that bad?

“Thank you, Amy.” Vanessa turned to the concierge, bestowing a disarmingly warm smile. “The Ralstons are arriving late tonight instead of tomorrow morning. Please make sure their room is ready.”

Amy nodded. “I’ll also have the foam pillows Mr. Ralston prefers sent up.”

“You’re the best.” Vanessa reached out and squeezed Amy’s hand. “We’re so lucky to have you here. I’m so lucky.” She turned to Carrie, her smile dimming slightly. “Amy is a graduate of the school of hotel administration at Cornell. It’s quite prestigious and she’s been a wonderful addition to The Fairview family.”

Family.

Carrie suppressed a shudder of resentment. This woman had told her Vanessa didn’t have any family, but clearly her mother held her employees close to her heart. Meanwhile, Carrie received two obligatory phone calls a year, one on her birthday and the other on Christmas morning.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Amy said, her tone about a million notches more pleasant than it had been minutes earlier.

“You, too,” Carrie lied. For a split second she wished she could be more like Meredith, who said exactly what she thought with no consideration of the consequences. Oh, the things she’d say to Amy the concierge.

But Carrie wasn’t like her outspoken, confident sister, and her mommy issues had nothing to do with anyone on the hotel’s staff, no matter how much easier it would be to blame them.

If no one knew about Vanessa’s life before she came to The Fairview, the responsibility fell on her mother’s thin shoulders.

And Vanessa didn’t seem to care. In fact, Carrie had to hurry to catch up to her as she strode across the lobby toward the restaurant at the far end. Her mother walked with purpose, as if she owned the place. Both staff and guests alike looked at her with the kind of deferential respect reserved for VIPs. Carrie knew those looks because she’d seen them on the faces of longtime Magnolia residents back when her father had been the de facto king of the town.

Carrie had always been better at appearing insignificant if someone noticed her at all.

“The hotel looks really pretty with all the Christmas decorations,” she said as she followed her mother to a table in front of a window overlooking the manicured grounds.

“Holiday,” Vanessa corrected without hesitation. “The Fairview welcomes guests who celebrate a variety of holidays at this time of year.”

“Of course,” Carrie whispered, duly chastised. Her mother’s special skill, laying her low with a few choice words and that sanctimonious tone.

Vanessa glanced up at the waiter who’d followed them to the table. “Two signature tea services, Martin. With a few additional scones.”

“Of course, Ms. Reed.”

Carrie tried not to gape as the man executed a subtle bow. He actually bowed to her mother. No wonder Vanessa was so happy with her job. Martin didn’t bother to glance at Carrie and she resisted the urge to slouch down in her seat like a moody teen.

What had happened to the gutsy woman who’d gone toe-to-toe with Dylan Scott on a public street? He’d told her she changed, and she’d truly thought she had. Her father’s death and the revelations that came with it had forced her to take stock of her life in a way she’d avoided for years. Forging new bonds with her sisters had helped her find an inner strength she hadn’t realized she possessed.

A few minutes in her mother’s presence had obliterated all of her newfound gains.

“I don’t need more food, Mom.” Carrie focused on unfolding the napkin and placing it in her lap as she spoke. “The past couple of months have been stressful, but things are getting better. In fact, I’ve started—”

“Your father was a horrid man,” her mother interrupted, tapping one shapely fingernail against the white linen tablecloth. “Surely you can see that.”

“He was deeply flawed,” Carrie said quietly.

Vanessa let out a soft snort. “An egotistical, narcissistic boar of a human. You