“Lillian, stop playing with your food and pay attention.”

Lifting my gaze from the pile of scrambled eggs, I found my mother staring at me from across the table, her face twisted in the same disapproving expression she always wore when I was around. And I didn’t know why, since she’d won.

For two weeks, I’d done everything she’d asked. I let her drag me to parties. To high tea. Allowed her to parade me around to all her friends like a dog she’d brought to heel. And most importantly, I resisted the urge to contact Cameron.

Though, I wanted to. Everyday.

The ache in my chest felt like a bullet wound. Gaping and open and painful.

Setting my fork down, I pinned on a tight smile. “I’m s-sorry, mother. You w-were saying?”

She cringed as I fumbled to get the words out. My stutter was always worse when she was around. Like my thoughts couldn’t find a voice if they sensed her presence.

Maybe the words don’t want to leave your lips any more than I do.

I felt the smile creep up from nowhere.

My mother must’ve seen it too because she picked up her coffee cup and glared at me. “Your handicap is no laughing matter, Lillian. Maybe you should take your therapy more seriously. How do you plan to sell art if you can’t even speak?”

I straightened in my seat. “I’m an artist, m-mother. I don’t need to open my mouth. N-Nobody cares what I have to s-say.”

Certainly not you.

One of her perfectly arched brows hitched up. “That’s beside the point. You don’t want to sound like an idiot, do you?”

The blow hit me right between the eyes, and I looked down. “I’ll t-try harder.”

Jerking when a warm hand landed on my shoulder, I offered my father a weak smile.

“Try harder at what, Lily Bear?” he asked as he strode to the head of the table. Miles away, or so it seemed. I could never understand why we didn’t eat at the breakfast nook in the kitchen like a regular family.

“Good morning, D-daddy.”

Another irritated sigh from my mother drew his gaze. “What is it, Abby?” he asked as he placed the linen napkin in his lap. He didn’t really want to know, since he was already motioning for the maid to fetch his coffee.

I suspected my parents went days without speaking to each other. It was like they orbited two different suns. Only coming together when it was necessary. How sad.

“Lillian refuses to take her therapy seriously. I was hoping she’d get herself in check before the holiday party season begins.”

Something that resembled empathy flashed across my father’s features. But it was gone just as quickly. “You worry too much, Abigail. Lily is fine.” He smiled at me. “Beautiful.”

“As long as she doesn’t open her mouth,” my mother muttered.

Pausing with the coffee cup halfway to his lips, my father glowered at her. But only for a second. Whatever it was that made Marcus Tennison fierce in the boardroom withered in the presence of his wife. My mother would’ve made a formidable business woman.

“I’m p-probably not going to have t-time for parties,” I ventured. “H-hopefully I’ll have a job by then.”

“Nonsense,” my mother replied, leveling her serious blue eyes on me. “The Peterson’s son is back from Harvard and I’ve already arranged for him to accompany you to the Black and White Ball. If things go well your social calendar will be full for the entire season.”

The ever present pit in my stomach doubled in size. “I’m not interested in dating.”

I managed to get the sentence out in a clear voice. No fumbling. No hesitation. Maybe my mother had been right about Cameron, and he would’ve left me in the end. But the thought of letting anyone else touch me was unimaginable.

Pursing her lips, my mother stared into her cup. “That doesn’t matter, Lillian. As long as you live in this house, you’ll do what’s expected.”

And with that, she pushed back from the table, dropped her napkin onto her plate, and stalked from the room. I was just about to do the same when I felt my father’s eyes on me.

“Have you spoken to your friend lately?” he inquired when I stood up.

Friend?

Surely he wasn’t talking about Cameron. “Tess?”

She was the only other friend I had.

“No…” Drawing the word out, he eased back in his chair. “The musician.”

I shook my head. “Um… no.”

I stopped short of mentioning our deal. Mostly because I was ashamed. No, I hadn’t taken my parents up on their offer to buy me a car. And the credit card my mother gave me remained untouched on the desk in my room. But I had let my parents pay off my school debt.

“What is it, Lily Bear?”

“It wasn’t part of the deal, you know that.”

A crease formed between my father’s brow. Confusion? But why?

“What deal?” he asked, catching my gaze and holding.

Anger flared from deep in my belly. “Look, Daddy, I can’t t-talk about this. I know you had your reasons b-but…” I took a deep breath. “I agreed to the terms. But just so you know, I loved Cameron. And I thought maybe he felt the same. He asked me to go to Austin with him… d-did you know that?” My father’s lips parted, but I continued before he could answer. “And maybe m-mother was right. Maybe he would’ve grown tired of me. And without my d-degree or a means to support myself, I couldn’t just pack up and move.”

I looked my father in the eye then, letting him know that I was more like him than I wanted to admit. I’d made the smart choice. Even though it gutted me. Even though I regretted it every single day. In the end, common sense had won out. And every day that passed, a little of my resolve melted. By Christmas, I’d probably give in and let my mother set me up with the son of one of the business magnates in her social circle. And maybe I’d forget about New Mexico. And art. Maybe I’d marry. Have children. And I’d die a little inside. Because my parents’ money had never given me choices. It had only taken them away.

When I realized that I’d managed to get out the entire speech without stammering, I smiled. A small victory. I was still basking in the glow when my father said, “Come here, Lily.”

His tone brooked no argument and my feet moved without hesitation. Sliding into the seat on his left, I folded my hands in my lap and stared at the untouched place setting. Bone china. Only the best.

“What terms are you talking about?”

Surely he didn’t want to pour over the details. Like my mother had always said, money was never discussed in polite company. Not if you had class. Since I feared she was right, and I didn’t have any, I decided to let it fly.

“I know you think that a d-degree in art isn’t worth the paper it’s written on, but it’s all I have. Something that’s all m-mine.”

Running a finger around the rim of his cup, he sighed. “I never said that, Lily.”

“You didn’t have to. Taking away my car and refusing to pay my tuition was enough.”

I’d never seen my father surprised. It’s what made him so good at his job. But as I looked at him now, that’s what I saw. Shock. And something else. Something more.

Slowly his gaze shifted to the door where my mother had disappeared. And when he looked back at me, pain had replaced the confusion in his eyes.

He took my hand, something he hadn’t done in years. “I want you to start at the beginning,” he said, his tone low and maybe a little sad. “And tell me exactly what deal you’re talking about.”