“Are you ready to face the wolves with me?”
I grin up at him, not caring that we’re in the center of the footpath and people are probably muttering curses at us as they walk by.
“Come on, I’ll protect you.” I pull back, linking our fingers as we head toward…well, I guess the lion’s den.
Pulling open the door, Elizabeth greets us, her dark hair twisted atop her head while her black Prada dress with a puffed-out skirt sways along with her. The only reason I know it’s Prada is because I saw it in the window of Harrods last weekend. The newest season is hard to miss when it’s displayed in the biggest store in London.
“Mum.” Reeve leans in to kiss her cheek before we’re ushered inside. It’s clear she wants to hug him, but he pulls away quickly, the attention redirected onto me.
“Elizabeth, it’s so great to see you again,” I tell her, going in for a hug. She smiles at me and it’s warm, nothing forced about it. It’s hard in these moments, liking someone who I know caused Reeve so much pain, who kept such a deep secret from him.
“I’m so glad I could manage to get Reeve here for dinner. It appears my son is always very busy.” She gives him a knowing smile before pulling me into the living room. I turn, making sure Reeve is following behind me.
“How is your art going, Emilia? Are you still painting?” She takes a sip of her champagne, and her nude lipstick clings to the glass as she pulls it away.
“Yes, I am. It’s going well. I can’t complain.” I sip on the champagne, savoring the delicious taste, but also careful as I know this can easily get me drunk.
“Emilia has secured the Wentworth Estate Hotel as a client,” Reeve tells her, coming to sit next to me. He’s not close enough to give away our relationship status, but enough to comfort me. It’s not that I didn’t come from money, but the display of wealth and extravagance that Elizabeth Sawyer presents can be overwhelming.
Take the couch I’m sitting on, for example. It’s cream with gold piping and wooden armrests; I didn’t even know you could have wood on a couch. My fingers reach out to play with the gold-trimmed tassels hanging off the pillow, but I think better of it. Imagine if one of them unraveled—pure mortification would ensue.
“Wentworth Estate is a very reputable establishment, Emilia. That is a fine accomplishment indeed, don’t you agree, Colin?” Colin, Elizabeth’s newest husband, nods in approval and I feel my cheeks heat.
“Very impressive,” he confirms.
“So, Reeve darling, how has work been going?” Elizabeth turns her attention to him, her puffed skirt making each movement with her. Her hand rests against her collarbone, lightly playing against her golf-ball pearls.
“It’s good, Mum. Busy as usual, but good.” Reeve doesn’t offer her much to work with, but she takes the small pieces of information and runs with them, not allowing a second of awkward silence. I wonder if this is a skill she’s needed to have in her back pocket her entire life, plus her charisma and charm that add to it. No one likes to be stuck in an awkward conversation.
“You are just so clever, my boy. I can’t believe how far you’ve gotten. And he’s gotten there all on his own.” She turns to me, eyes wide and hopeful. “You do know Reeve got no help during uni? He persevered the entire time, working extra hours, taking extra jobs, all to make sure he would have the life he wanted.”
Her eyes mist over slightly, but Reeve interrupts her before she can continue.
“Emilia’s known me most of my life, Mum. She doesn’t need a history lesson.”
It’s supposed to come off as a joke, but the lingering tension from things left unsaid makes it sound harsher than Reeve intended. I see the flash of remorse on his face as Elizabeth’s mask momentarily slips, but she quickly smiles again, dismissing the comment.
“Emilia, you must see Colin’s art collection. I know you’re more modern, but everyone can appreciate a Picasso, can’t they?”
It’s rhetorical, so I just smile and follow her as she leads me down the hall, speaking about each piece. Reeve is left alone with his stepfather, looking all too solemn.
“Elizabeth, are you sure I can’t help clean up?” I watch as the maid takes away our dessert plates, my sense of assertion feeling uneasy.
Waving a hand in front of me, she dismisses my offer. “No, darling, but thank you for offering.”
I nod, Reeve’s hand finding my leg under the table.
“So, tell me again, what are all your other chums doing tonight?”
I want to laugh at the term, but manage to keep it in.
“They had plans,” Reeve says, removing his hand from my leg.
“Well, I’m glad they were busy,” she jokes. “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed getting to know Emilia better. I dare say, you’ve known my Reeve for years and this is the first time I’ve really gotten to know you. You must come back again.”
I nod. “I’d like that, Elizabeth.”
She smiles at me, and for the first time tonight, it feels purely authentic.
She goes off into conversation with Reeve and his stepfather about some gala she needs them to attend next month, my mind taking in all that is Elizabeth Sawyer. Despite her exuberant exterior, I find there to be a lingering loneliness around this woman. It’s as if she yearns for time and affection from her son while Reeve’s younger brother, Louis, galivants through America. She appears to greatly admire Reeve.
Perhaps because he’s managed to do what she never has: make a name for himself. I struggle finding fault with her character, so that brings in the question of why she kept Reeve a secret from his father. Despite my best intentions to leave it, there’s a nagging sense in the back of my mind that there’s more to the story. But I know Reeve—he’d want me to stay out of this, not push it.
“Reeve, could I grab a moment with you before you and Emilia have to leave?”
Reeve nods as he walks away with Colin, leaving Elizabeth and me at the table alone.
I smile at her, but suddenly an awkward silence ensues and I’m not sure what to say. For once, her reaction mirrors my own and she looks down at the table cloth.
“I know what you must think of me,” she says, catching me off guard.
My head shoots up, our eyes connecting. I stay silent, not wanting to step into Reeve’s business with his mother.
“Reeve’s always been my pride and joy. When I had him, I was living on less than ten quid a day, struggling to keep a flat. But he kept me going. He made me want to get a better life for him.”
Her eyes become glassy, her mind clearly lost in memories of the past.
I want to get up and comfort her, but it feels as though doing so would be a betrayal to Reeve, who is so deeply wounded by his mother’s own betrayal. So instead, I ask her the question.
“Why did you do it?”
Her eyes refocus, and she blinks away the sheen.
“We all make choices in life, Emilia. Some good, some bad. But the choices we make as a parent are the ones that impact us the most. The ones that are the most pivotal to not only our own lives, but the ones who we swear to protect.”
She grabs her champagne glass and downs the last of her drink before continuing. “As soon as he was born, black hair and all, I swore I would do whatever it took in this life to protect him and make sure he was happy. And at that point in life, it meant keeping him from his father. I truly believed that was best for him.”