: Viv

ther was telling some story about the Wellington charity committee, and I made the appropriat

on. The client had sent a fruit basket to my office that wa

triumphant. Inste

Vivienne?" Mother's

smoothly, having no i

rt of appearing engaged while being completely absent. Just anoth

ne everything right. Law school at Columbia, summer associate position at t

ct on

in pr

forward with that look he got when discussing business. "Medical m

mentally calculating which associate I could

speak earlier-something about a patient-but honestly, hospital small talk wasn't exactly riveting di

nergy to these dinners. Dram

isted quietly.

ok tired," Mother observed

ne. Jus

nowing smile. "You should come to the mus

le. "I'll chec

king attempts. Now I just deflected and moved on. It was easie

thought before it

er said, "how's the Morr

epositions, watching my parents' faces light up with appro

Ashford name elevated th

happy. Never mind that I came home to an empty apartment every night

city was quiet, I let myself remember what it fe

d it-Mother hated phones at the dinne

ng it out. "I'm expecting

om my assistant. Two

ard the hallway. "I

the foyer, I dia

meeting. New client, very high profile. They specifically asked for you. Cross Industries-they need counsel for

Indu

arly slipped

s, the billionaire who'd built an empire before thirty-five. Real

needed

nd of client th

Patricia back: *9 a.m. Monday confi

este had followed me into t

client meet

t. God, Viv, do you

d this argument too many times. Celeste chose art and instability

was just checking on you. Y

distant at t

ng back? They barely notice Isla exists, they think I'm a perpetual di

t's

d. "But we keep showing up. Dutiful

performing. Vivienne the Perfect. Celeste the Rebel

nded cruel ev

get back

ant them to think

brûlée-and slipped back into my seat. The conversation had moved on to vacat

ar with my spoon and let my m

stries. Do

and buried. But that was impossible. I'd never met the

nd studying until three a.m. I'd been dating a boy with more

nt parents, a chip on his shoulder the size of Manhattan and a s

God help me,

r associate position in New York. My

d something with him instead.

osen t

brûlée and tasted not

bly moved on, probably married someone more adven

always planned to become: succ

Background on Cross Industries. Histo

in my empty apartment

oval, accepted their praise for the M

fect da

able, but I could feel its weight.

f client that could de