Page 9 of Lush

“I called you home because you have a place in this family and I’m feelinggenerous. I can send you back to Paris and try again in ten years, if you want? But by then you’ll be living in a cardboard box outside of the Eiffel Tower.”

When I left home, I didn’t know where the hell I was going. No guarantees, no safety net—I just needed to escape everyone and everything. Paris was my chance for a fresh start.

Paris was rough at first. No family, no friends, nothing. The entire world seemed to be against me. I really needed money, and the art world, with all its power and pretentiousness, was my way back in.

I learned from Mama to rely on my old contacts from King Investments; they knew my family name but didn’t treat me differently or shun me when Mama disowned me.

It also helped with the occasional emails from Daddy. He couldn’t outright fight back against Mama, but he did text or email me to take a jog on the Seine. Or do some shopping around Galeries Lafayette Champs-Élysées. I always ran into some old clients—art dealers, curators, even some big-name collectors. It was easy to work as a freelance consultant for galleries, curating exhibits, and managing emerging artists.

The hours were long, the pay was low, but I built a reputation. And I would be damned if I lose everything I’ve worked for.

“What’s the catch, Mama? What do you want me from me? Money? Ideas? I know last quarter was good. I reached out to Grandpa’s old partners?—”

“They turned their backs on us,” Mama snapped. “Like hell I’ll ask those traitors for anything ever again.”

Next idea: give her what she wants.

“I’m prepared to be the CFO then. Bring back King Investments, teach whatever I know. Clean exchange.”

That role wasn’t what I ever wanted. It was quick, but I could see the blueprint she’d sketched out for me reappear in her eyes now.

Her eyes narrowed as if the very thought insulted her. “I’ve got the best of the best on my board, and you sure as hell ain’t one of them.”

Get messy, she loves dirt.

“I have valuable information,” I said. “Secrets. People forgot you had a daughter in Paris. They talk when they think you’re out of reach. Your partners, your enemies, even your friends.”

“Secrets are dangerous. You sure you wanna do that again?” Her eyes didn’t flicker, but I caught the slightest twitch in her brow.

“When haven’t you been able to turn secrets into profit?”

Reese would hate this. He’d want me to fight back, escape it all. I was asking the very person who’d locked me in this cage to help me survive it.

But Paris taught me the harsh realities of survival. I battled to get what I wanted. I got good at seeing people’s weaknesses and using that to my benefit. I became well-known, not only in Parisian art galleries, but also in the city’s social scene. I got to know some powerful collectors; I helped them get access to the artists they wanted, and they promoted me.

I did well because I was good, not because of who I am. I made it on my own. People either loved or hated me, but everyone respected me. But I had my eyes on the prize. My own gallery. That was always my dream.

Till it got taken away.

She dug through her purse and pulled out a photo.

“Whatis this?”

It was a version of me I’d buried, smiling beside Conrad at my engagement party.

“It’s part of our family’s history,” she said. “You can’t run from your past, no matter how much you try to bury it.”

My gaze shifted to the figure next to Conrad in the photo:Reese. His face was grim, unlike our fake smiles.

Mama snapped her fingers and all the staff disappeared.

“When I took on this role after your grandpa Ben,” shebegan, her voice cold, “I expanded this empire—notfor me, Laurene, but for you, for your siblings, for our legacy. Every decision, every sacrifice I made, was not for you to throw it all away on your petty littlefeelings. You think I stifled you, but I wanted you tothrive. I wanted you to have the choices I never had.”

I figured I could outrun the guilt, but it just got worse.

“Love’s complicated. It ain’t always soft. Sometimes it means pushing you to be better, even if it hurts. Despite all this, I do love you.”

I took a peek at the engagement photo. I’d put duty before love, and it had messed everything up.

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