Page 134 of Where We Bloom

“That’s a lovely handbag, Billie,” Maeve, Connor’s mom, says to me as we sit in the parlor before dinner is served.

Their home isbiggerthan Connor’s, and I didn’t think that was possible.

I was dead wrong.

The Gallagher family is beyond what I can comprehend as wealthy. Their hotel and resort brand is on par with Hilton, The Ritz, and other luxury hotels, and I get that.

But sometimes, I’m reminded just how filthy rich they are.

I’m in a green Chanel dress with black Chanel heels and a bag from the same designer. All of it thrifted, which makes me immensely happy.

“Oh, thank you,” I reply, glancing down at the bag in my lap. “I was excited to find it.”

“I looked for months,” she says, surprising me.

“You did?”

“Yes, I called every Chanel sales associate I know in Europe and the US, and no one could get their hands on one for me.”

I blink at her, surprised, and aware that Connor and his father are listening to our conversation.

“I have to ask, where did you find it?” Maeve asks.

“At a consignment shop in New York,” I reply with a wide smile. “Just this past week, when Connor and I were there. I wasshockedwhen I saw it on the shelf, and I couldn’t leave it behind because I knew it was hard to get.”

Maeve blinks in surprise. “A consignment shop? Interesting.”

“To be honest, my whole outfit is thrifted.”

Her jaw drops. “But you’re covered in Chanel, head to toe, darlin’. In fact, every time I’ve seen you this past year, you’ve been in designer labels. I admire your fashion choices.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you. All thrifted.”

Her gaze moves to Connor’s, and then back to me. “Billie, I’m quite sure my son would be happy to buy you any labels you want, new from the shops.”

“Oh, I know he would.” I nod, not shy in the least. “Connor’s incredibly generous, but I have to tell you, going on the hunt for designer labels through consignment and at a thrift store I found in a neighboring town is one of my favorite hobbies.”

Maeve’s green eyes don’t look convinced, so I chuckle and lean over to take her hand.

“Honest, you’d be shocked at what I find. Most of the garments still have tags on them and have never been worn. Ilovethe game of it, the thrill of the hunt, I guess you could say. And I’m obsessed with fashion. This is how I feed that obsession, which I’m happy to do on my own. Connor is already generous enough with his time, his affection, and so many other things. I don’t need him to splurge on shopping.”

“So tell me,” she says, leaning in closer. “What else have you found? I want to hear about it all. And next time you’re in New York, I’ll meet you there and join you, if you don’t mind.”

I rub my hands together, thrilled to share my secrets with Connor’s mom. I love that she’d like to go with me.

“Oh, I’d love that. Okay, I found so many amazing things. Do you remember …”

Maeve and I spend the next thirty minutes talking about bags and shoes and clothes. When it’s time for dinner, it’s not Connor wrapping his arm around my shoulders to guide me to the dining room, but Patrick.

“You’re a fine thing,” he says with a soft smile. Connor resembles his father. “And a beautiful one. How have you been, Billie?”

“I’m doing well, thank you. And you?”

He looks down at me, almost as tall as his son, and appears surprised that I’d ask him how he is.

Does no one ask powerful people how they’re doing? It boggles my mind.

“I’m grand, thank ye,” he replies, showing me to my seat at the table.

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