Page 5 of Bargain with the Bachelor
Margot had put a lot of work into it, spending long hours every day away from home coordinating things, in spite of her husband’s condition. Perhaps because of it.
I’d tried to be understanding about that—people dealt with stress and grief in different ways. Margot’s approach seemed to consist of plenty of self-care—long lunches with her girlfriends and lavish shopping trips.
She’d always been a firm believer in money buying happiness.
Recently, she’d shut down a boutique in the Brady’s Wharf shopping district and spent sixty thousand dollars in one trip on haute couture and jewelry. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know how much Margot had spent over the years on cosmetic procedures.
While Richard Bianco had gone gray and looked every minute of his sixty-four years, Margot was obsessed with looking young. I’d always thought her a very attractive woman, but Margot was never quite satisfied.
She seemed to consider physical appearance a competition sport, and her opponents were all other women—including her stepdaughter.
I’d first noticed the friction the year I turned fourteen, when my body had begun to develop. Margot had remarked on my “childbearing hips” and attributed them to my mother, who in her words, had been “pretty in a common, middle-class way.”
The offhand cruel remarks had increased as I matured and began to attract the notice and casual compliments of Margot’s male acquaintances.
But the things she said were never egregious enough for me to mention them to my father.
He wasn’t around enough to witness the animosity, and he loved us both and wanted so desperately for his “best girls” to get along and be friends. I hated to disappoint him.
I would much rather have had a mother figure than someone determined to be mistaken as my sister, no matter how many years passed.
And as far as I cared, Margot could keep the “Fairest of Them All” title.
Whatever gets her through the day.
I only hoped my stepmother was keeping an eye on the household finances. Maintaining and staffing a house the size of the one Dad had built twenty-five years ago on Oceanview Avenue was no small thing—not to mention the taxes—and the task had fallen to Margot when Dad had suffered the stroke.
I’d volunteered to take the financial stuff off her hands—my work at the Art Guild had honed my skills in that area—but Margot had insisted she could handle it and that it wasn’t my role.
So I’d focused on the things Icouldhelp out with, filling in as my father’s companion and nurse too whenever the visiting home care nurse wasn’t around.
Hopefully after tonight, with the foundation ball behind her, Margot would be more attentive to Daddy. I had no doubt spending more time with his wife would boost my father’s spirits.
Tapping in the number from the card Margot gave me, I placed the call to the auctioneer, who answered on the first ring. He said traffic on I-95 had been horrendous, assuring me he was only minutes away. I was about to slip the phone back into my evening bag when the text notification sounded.
Yes!It was from Harry.
-Hey beautiful. It’s time for hide and seek. Go ahead and sneak upstairs to the lilac bedroom, and I’ll meet you in 5. Don’t let anyone see you. Turn out the lights when you get there.
He’d added a comical eggplant and a grinning devil emoji to the end, making me giggle.
I let out a breath, relieved to finally hear from my boyfriend and frankly a little surprised by his suggestion.
Since my dad’s stroke, Harry had been acting distant. I knew what it was about. My life wasn’t the only one adversely affected by my father’s new limitations.
Harry was dealing with the sudden loss of his mentor and idol, not to mention the increased workload Dad’s medical leave had caused him.
But his text indicated a return of the old, flirtatious, fun Harry I’d fallen for. He probably thought I’d be tickled at the idea of playing a naughty “game” during this fancy party, and you know… I was.
It was exactly what I needed. A welcome escape from the crowd, from Margot, from the never-ending stress-fest my life had become lately. I couldn’t wait.
Peering around surreptitiously, I headed for the staircase, feeling giddy and quite daring.
Not that anyone would care about seeing me go upstairs—the second floor was open to party guests tonight.
But just knowing what I’d be doing upstairs—rendezvousing with my handsome boyfriend for some stolen kisses—made me feel like I was back in high school again.
I’d explored Bellevue Manor several times before, listening to the informative self-guided tour recording, so I knew exactly where the lilac bedroom was.
