Page 18 of Attorney Privilege
So here I am trying to cover it up with makeup. I don’t have a lot of options since I only have a few basic things I use regularly. This mark is going to need heavy concealer. When my mom left to go run a few errands, I snuck into her room and stole some of hers.
I lightly brush my finger over the mark, remembering the things Gideon did to my body. Desire comes flooding back, lighting me up in ways I never imagined possible. I don’t want to cover the mark. In fact, I’m sad that I know with each day it will fade. I worry my memories of him will do the same.
Knowing I don't have a choice, I get to work covering it up. I'm no pro, and at one point I think I made it worse. After twenty minutes it’s concealed for the most part, but I decide to style my hair to one side with a clip to help.
I’m sure no one will notice. When we have these dinners, I'm an afterthought sitting in the corner. As depressing as it sounds, that’s how I prefer it to be. I’m more than happy to disappear because putting me in the spotlight means criticism.
"Emerson," my mother calls, letting herself into my room without bothering to knock. I brush all my hair over to one shoulder and grab a hand towel to throw on top of the makeup I have spread out on the bathroom counter. Her expression is annoyed. "What are you doing?”
I spin around to face her. “I was getting ready. You said we have dinner guests.”
“It’s a rehearsal dinner.”
“What?” I know nothing about this wedding, but honestly I don’t care. I’ve got less than zero desire in me to plan it. The only thing that I love about the wedding is the dress. It was beautiful, and I knew Gideon picked it out. Why would he do that?
“The rehearsal dinner,” she says with exasperation. “I told you we’re leaving for the city. Get your bags packed.” She shakes her head at me, and not a single strand of her hair moves. It’s all stiffly in place, and I realize she must have gone to get it done.
“We have our rehearsal tonight?” Why didn’t anyone tell me I needed to pack? There's no way I would have forgotten that. Then again, I’ve been in a Gideon fog.
“Emerson, you’re not pretty enough to be this stupid.” Ouch. “You’re not having bridesmaids. You don’t need to actually rehearse. You can manage to walk down an aisle, can’t you?” I simply nod, but knowing Conner is going to be at the other end, walking to him might not be that easy. “Then no rehearsal, but we’re still having the dinner at the hotel. We’ll be staying there until after the wedding.”
"What happens after the wedding?" Why is the reality of this only now setting in? I'm not coming back here. I’ll no longer live with my parents. In theory, that should be worth celebrating, but I'd rather be here than share anything with Conner.
"You'll be on your honeymoon." Mother smiles at that. "He's taking you on his family yacht. You're a very lucky girl." She looks proud, but she’s not the one having to go with him.
"I don't feel lucky," I tell her, essentially killing her good mood as her happy expression drops from her face.
"What is the matter with you?"
She steps closer, and I know this is it, this is my chance. I might as well say it because I’m out of time. Maybe she’ll see me as her daughter and not a person to be pawned off. Does she want to get rid of me that badly? I shouldn't care if she does, but the thought still stings.
“I don’t want to marry him,” I say softly, pleading with her compassion.
The smack across my face startles me, and I stand there shocked. Never has Mother ever laid a hand on me. Her words were her weapon of choice, and she wielded them with precision.
“Charlie is waiting for you downstairs. He’ll be taking you. Pack your things.” With that, she turns to leave but pauses at my bedroom door. “You’re marrying him, and you will act accordingly.”
When she’s gone, I touch my cheek. It's warm, and a light sting lingers. It’s a literal slap of reality and a brutal wake-up call. I suppose if I ever wondered where I stood with her, now I know for sure.
I'm robotic as I go about getting my things together. A numbness takes over inside of me where I have no thoughts or feelings anymore.
"You need help?" Mason asks. My mother’s butler has a sympathetic expression on his face.
"Not the kind you're offering."
"You know I would help you any way that I can,” he says gently.
"I know." I nod, but I'm not going to pull him into this. It was terrible of me to have pulled Charlie into it. I could get them fired, and I'd hate it if that happened. The two of them have been nothing but kind to me, and if my mother found out they were going against her orders, she would ruin their ability to get jobs elsewhere.
“Is this everything?”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” I rush to my closet and dig to the back, where I have a box hidden. Inside are things my grandma gave me before she passed. I’ve kept it tucked away, and it’s the only thing in this house that matters to me. “That’s it.”
Mason grabs two of my bags, and I get the other, meeting Charlie outside. We load them up, and when I turn back around, I see most of the house staff standing there.
“What’s wrong?” I ask Charlie because they all appear so sad.
“They want hugs.” Charlie nudges me toward them, and my heart cracks a little at the sight.
