Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“All of it. I don’t know if my newfound freedom is better yet. I suppose it would be if I could land a job that would at least cover rent and basic necessities. I could learn to live without Chanel and get my perfume from samples at department stores and in magazine flyers. I can even learn how to make a simple roast chicken if I need to. But I don’t know if I can learn to love a man who sees me as a contract and the means to an heir.”
I sat back on the uncomfortable plastic-covered wooden bench and really looked at Emma.
The waiter came over to get her order, and she reached into her purse to count the few dollars that she had left, giving me the time to really look at her for the first time.
At the engagement party, I saw her glamor. I saw the beautiful doll with the title I envied.
When she walked into the cafe, I saw a woman struggling, but I tried to look beyond that. I saw her grace. Not the grace and poise that is taught at finishing schools, although she had that in spades as well. But there was something truly graceful about her mannerisms.
She managed to be polite, soft, and gentle, but not weak. She had managed to unknowingly make me look at my own situation in several different lights in the span of a few moments.
I went from naively determined to guilty and wondered if I was wasting an opportunity to retain a lifestyle. But now I was filled with hopeful determination.
I realized that I didn’t have to be the princess locked in a tower or the pauper begging for scraps on the corner.
“Coffee’s on me,” I said with a smile. “Get whatever you like.”
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to take advantage.”
“No, it’s absolutely fine. I’m not as wealthy as I once was, but I have a little while yet before I’m in dire straits. I’m just being preemptive and trying to find something to occupy my time. My therapist says having an occupation is a good way to keep from the grief,” I lied.
She gave me a graceful smile and sat back in the chair. “Well, then, in that case, I’ll take an Earl Gray latte, please.”
“Coming right up.” The waiter nodded, giving her heart eyes before he scurried off.
“So I also need the work for money,” I clarified, not wanting her to think I saw myself as above her. “But I still have a bit of a nest egg that gives me enough wiggle room to last a few months.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I still recommend finding work as soon as possible. It is a madhouse out there, and it’s better to be prepared. Trust me, I’m finding out the hard way. The worst position for any woman to be in is one where she doesn’t have options and is forced to play a part, be it waitress or trophy.”
“You said you had experience planning events?”
She was right. The worst position for a woman was in a position without options or support. Clearly, the men in our lives who were supposed to provide for us had failed. By accident or intent, it didn’t matter. The fact was that we were bred to rely on them, and they’d failed us. We needed to help ourselves and each other.
“I have experience guiding event planners. That’s hardly the same thing as being an event planner.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, I suppose I did. I loved watching how a party came together and how a dull, empty ballroom could transform into something truly magical. Much like Charlotte’s engagement party. Though I heard her wedding was something magnificent to behold.”
“It really was.” I nodded. “Have you considered working for an event planner? I know a few, and I’m sure I could get you an interview.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up.
“Absolutely.” I smiled.
It was the least I could do.
She had been put into a situation where she didn’t have options, and she was making the best of it in a way I didn’t think I could have. I had been put in a terrible situation, but I had options.
I wasn’t willing to give up everything, but I wasn’t willing to be Lucian Manwarring’s trophy wife.
I wanted my lifestyle and my freedom, and I didn’t want him to win.
Seeing me slinging hash at some greasy spoon or begging on a corner was just as bad as begging for attention or money in his bed.
If he wanted a trophy wife, I was going to make him look elsewhere.
CHAPTER 29
STELLA
“Take it all off,” I said, staring into the large, round mirror with the bright pink plastic frame.
“All of it, honey? You mean like three or four inches?” the stylist asked behind me, popping his gum. His sheers were in one hand, and his other was propped up on his hip while he considered my long, luscious hair.