do anything about it, and I can see that he’s trying hard to continue the tradition of his family. Even if they are dumb and useless ones.
We haven’t had a moment alone since we came down for dinner. And now, I’ve been dismissed as lacking by a woman who spent the first forty-five minutes of dinner telling me all about the piping for her new window treatments.
“Most of them are fine,” the woman next to me murmurs in my ear.
“Excuse me?” I turn to look at her. She’s a pretty woman in her late sixties with skin the color of hazelnuts, eyes the color of coffee, and a warm smile.
“But some of them are a bunch of stuck-up assholes.” Her whispered words are colored with humor. “We’re only invited because the previous Mr. Rivers and my husband were friends. It’s only since Hayes got back that we decided to come at all. Trust me, honey, you’ll be glad they don’t talk to you,” she says with a wink.
“I like you.” I stick my hand out. “I’m Confidence. Yes, that’s my real name,” I say before she can ask.
“I’m Mary Hassan, and what a fantastic name,” she compliments sincerely.
“Thank you,” I say in kind.
“Well, I know a little something about sitting at tables you weren’t exactly invited to, so I can empathize,” she says. “And, I have three grown daughters. You look about their age,” she says. And I think how lucky those girls must be.
Those girls are lucky to have a mother whose eyes light up when she talks about them.
“Do they live in Houston?” My heart jumps in hope that maybe I’ll make some new friends.
“No. My oldest and her husband are in DC. My middle and youngest both live in the UK,” she says.
“Wow, that’s amazing. I just took my first trip out of the country this summer. I can’t imagine living overseas. What took them there?” I ask.
“My baby got a job; she’s a lawyer—”
“Oh, me, too,” I say excitedly.
“Are you? I should introduce you. They’ll all be here for Christmas. Just three more months,” she says happily.
“I’d love that. I’m moving here. My best friend lives here actually, but I would love to meet more people,” I say gratefully.
“You’ll love them. My middle is married to an earl and lives in England,” she tells me proudly.
“Really? What is that like?” I ask, looking around this room and thinking I can barely handle these entitled rich people. How would I deal with aristocrats?
“She had a hard time with some of the people in his circle. She’s not what a countess looks like over there, but she’s won them over now,” she says.
“That sounds like a hard transition,” I muse.
“It was. But for her husband’s sake she worked her way through it. And now, she’s just like one of the locals. She even teaches a coding course at the local high school,” she says. I smile at the pride in her voice and reach for my drink to avoid having to speak.
Hayes is no earl. But around here, he’s like royalty. And given my less-than-warm reception, I’m worried about being his partner. I think that’s where we’re going. He wouldn’t have asked me to move in with him if he didn’t think so. I wouldn’t be considering it if I didn’t, too.
She touches my arm. “I saw you come down with Hayes. You make such a beautiful couple.”
“Thank you so much.” I glance down the table at him just as a man dressed in one of the dark blue valet uniforms rushes into the open doors of the dining room and bends to whisper in his ear.
Whatever the valet says can’t be good. Hayes’s jaw clenches, and his brow furrows. Then, he tosses his napkin down on the table and stands up.
“Excuse me, everyone,” he says. I watch him in hopes that he’ll make eye contact with me. He doesn’t.
I war with myself, watching the door, and unsure whether or not to follow him. Mary touches my arm again and I glance at her.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “What were you saying?”
My eyes dart back to the door for a second and when I look back to her, she’s smiling sympathetically.
“That’s one of the benefits of being someone’s other half,” she says. “You don’t have to wait for them to say they need you. You just go because you know they always do.”
She cocks her head to the door. “See you later,” she says.
We share a smile, mine