Susan Mallery Page 0,53

his career, and how you’re concerned about being a liability. Our goal was to help you get comfortable with formal dining and an eclectic group of guests. It was about mastering the various forks and glasses and a long evening with different courses and following the conventions of conversation. We’d talked about that—we had a strategy.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “I remember. Spend fifteen minutes talking to the person on my right, then switch to the person on my left. Or I can be like the queen and change with the courses. Whatever. I wanted to have a good time.”

“I appreciate that,” Margot said calmly. “But if you want to learn the rules, you have to study them and then practice until they’re second nature. When you’re comfortable with the rules, you don’t have to think about them and then the fun happens naturally.”

“Rules are boring.”

You’re boring. Bianca didn’t say it, but Margot would swear she heard it all the same. There were always difficult times in what she did, and she had just reached the first one in this relationship.

Bianca shifted so her feet were on the floor, then glared at her. “You don’t know what it’s like for me. I love Wesley and I want to make him happy, but none of this is easy. People have expectations and I’m not always going to meet them. In my regular life, I don’t care, but this is different. I want to get it right, but the rules are so arbitrary.”

“Of course they are.” Margot relaxed. “Everyone assumes formal place settings come from England, but they are in fact from Russia. Who would have thought? And how on earth did we decide it was important to have wineglasses in a certain order? What if you don’t drink wine or don’t like or want white wine?”

“Then what’s the point?”

“Rules and social conventions provide order. In diplomatic situations, when tensions are running high about a treaty or a conflict, conventions are a framework in which to work. Everyone knows their place and what’s expected. Rules help people avoid making mistakes. You’re thinking of all that I’m teaching you as a constraint to who you are as a person. But that’s not what they’re for. They’re meant to help you. Like railings on a staircase, or seat belts. If you need them, they’ll be there, even if you’re not paying attention to what’s going on.”

Bianca didn’t look convinced.

Margot got up and walked over to the small refrigerator in the bookcase and got them each a bottle of flavored water. “I think I mentioned before that my great-grandmother started a charm school back in the 1960s, in a tiny town you’ve never heard of. In a matter of a couple of years, she had gotten two of her girls into major pageants and they were making the finals.”

“I know all this.” Bianca sounded impatient.

Margot ignored her. “All she wanted her entire life was one Miss America winner. It was her dream and why wouldn’t it be? To have just one of her students win the crown would have validated her entire life’s work. Sunshine and I were her last hope.”

Bianca raised her eyebrows. “Sunshine, your sister?”

Margot nodded.

“She’s a beautiful woman but she’s not...”

Margot grinned. “Beauty queen material? It’s okay, you can say it. Sunshine wanted it, but she wasn’t the right height or body type. We could all see that. So it fell to me.”

Margot still remembered the sense of dread when her great-grandmother had told her what was expected. Margot had been thirteen and still growing. She was socially awkward and shy and the last thing on the planet she wanted was to be in front of any kind of crowd.

“The first time I got up on the practice stage, I threw up,” she said cheerfully. “It happened regularly for the better part of a year. I also fainted and broke out in hives more than once. I became incoherent, I had no talent and I couldn’t get the bathing suit walk. People think being in a beauty pageant is about nothing more than being pretty and having a great body. That’s just plain wrong. You need public speaking skills, a platform, goals, achievements and more determination than I’ve ever been able to muster in my life. I broke Francine’s heart. She kept saying if I really wanted it, I could do it. And she was right.”

Bianca looked surprised. “You were throwing up?”

“I was, but I probably could have worked through that. The thing