Page 68 of The Billionaires' Prize

I watch her closely, looking for any sign of surprise or uneasiness. Is there anything else in there she hasn’t told me about? Either way, I think I’ll bring in my own attorney.

“Of course, darling.” There’s that word again. Buttering me up. But somehow, it’s not as powerful as it used to be. I’m not her darling anymore.

I’mPrincess.

Katie Bird.

Wildfire.

She continues on without missing a beat. “We need your name in the paper for the correct reasons, right? If we’re going to find you a husband by October. . . Are you sure there’s no chance of getting back together with Tyler?”

I’m reeling from her first statement and almost miss her question.

Husband by October. Back together with Tyler.

What is that buzzing sound? It’s so annoying. And why is it so hot in here?

“He’s from an excellent family, Katherine. He’s smart and good-looking and ambitious.”

She keeps going, listing Tyler’s virtues as if he’s a real estate investment. I want to tell her to marry him herself if she’s so keen on him.

“He’s a climber, mother.”

“Oh, Katherine. When are you going to grow up? We’re all climbers.”

I’m not.

The thought is swift and decisive.

Is that why she married James Winthrop? Is that why she divorced my father? He’s about the farthest thing I can imagine from a social climber.

“We have different priorities and interests.”

Mother shoves the planner away. “Is this about that silly play?”

And there it is. Her true colors.

So, all that worry wasn’t for me as a person.

The Botox doesn’t let her brows move, but I read the expression on her perfect face. Annoyance. Frustration. Disappointment and disapproval.

“Seriously, Katherine. I don’t know what’s going on with you lately. Is this a delayed teenage rebellion?” She pushes back from the desk. Then, her voice drops as if she’s speaking to herself. “I never should have let you go off to that school.”

“Harvard?”

“Yes, Harvard. And with that roommate.” She sighs.

Don’t take the bait. Do not take the bait.

“You know how important it is to move in the right circles, darling. I don’t understand why you insist on making things harder for yourself.”

“You mean harder for you.”

Her chin jerks back as if I punched her. Beneath the elegant suit jacket, her chest lifts on a deep breath. Here it comes. The temper she’s never been able to completely hide. Grandfather led with his outbursts. Mom keeps hers close to the vest.

My stomach tightens into a nest of knots.

But somehow, she keeps her temper. “Yes, harder for me. I’m trying to protect you, and you insist on doing your own thing.”

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