Chương 6
“Apparently one of her original sponsors pulled out.”
“That happens.”
“The internet has decided it’s because the venue is cursed.”
I put down my pen.
“Of course it has.”
Nina handed me the phone.
A short video showed Savannah standing outside the estate two days earlier while a planner spoke behind her.
The caption claimed she had stolen a protected wedding location from an unnamed relative and was being punished by environmental regulators.
The clip had been reposted thousands of times.
Most comments were speculative.
Some were gleeful.
A few had identified me.
One included a photograph taken from my professional biography page.
I handed the phone back.
“Great.”
“You okay?”
“No.”
The answer surprised both of us.
Nina pulled the spare chair from the wall.
“I thought you’d enjoy this.”
“So did I.”
She peeled the foil lid off her yogurt.
“Turns out strangers are creepy?”
“Turns out I don’t want thousands of people deciding they know my family because somebody made a forty-second video.”
Nina ate a spoonful.
“Reasonable.”
“My mother will think I leaked it.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then she can be wrong.”
“That has never stopped her before.”
At eleven sixteen, Patricia proved me right.
Her message contained a screenshot of the video and one sentence.
How could you do this to your sister?
I read it twice.
Then I put the phone in my drawer.
At eleven twenty-three, Savannah called.
I answered immediately.
“I didn’t leak anything.”
“I know.”
I sat back.
“You do?”
“I know who did.”
Her voice was flat.
“Who?”
“One of my old assistants.”
“Why?”
“She got fired in May.”
I waited.
Savannah exhaled.
“Because I was awful to her.”
That was not the answer I expected.
“She still shouldn’t have done it.”
“I know.”
“But?”
“But I made her work through her grandmother’s funeral weekend because we had a resort campaign.”
I said nothing.
There are apologies you can help someone make.
There are others that become smaller if you touch them too quickly.
Savannah continued.
“She had screenshots of messages between Mom and my planner.”
“About the transfer?”
“Yeah.”
“Did she post them?”
“Not yet.”
The word yet tightened something in my chest.
“What do they say?”
“Enough.”
“Savannah.”
“Mom told the planner you’d complain for a few days and then get over it.”
I looked toward the window.
A maintenance worker was trimming shrubs beside the parking lot.
The machine buzzed steadily against the glass.
“What else?”
“She said you always fold when family pressure gets embarrassing.”
My mouth went dry.
Savannah spoke more quietly.
“There’s also a message where I said you didn’t need the estate because nobody important was coming to your wedding.”
I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“You already said that.”
“I know.”
“This is different.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Her voice sharpened.
“You can be angry.”
“I am.”
“Then act like it.”
I opened my eyes.
“What do you want me to do, Savannah?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I don’t.”
The frustration in her voice was real now, not polished into anger.
“I’ve spent my whole adult life knowing what angle to use and what caption works and which person at a party can get me into the next room.”
She stopped.
“This doesn’t work like that.”
“No.”
“I keep thinking if I can just find the right statement, it’ll stop.”
“It won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you can’t control what people believe after you make your private life public.”
She laughed once, bitterly.
“That’s literally my job.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then she asked, “What would you do?”
I looked at the drawer where my phone had disappeared after Patricia’s accusation.
“Nothing today.”
“That’s your advice?”
“Yes.”
“My team wants a response within two hours.”
“Your team is trying to protect a brand.”
“They’re supposed to.”
“You asked what I would do.”
Savannah did not answer.
“Find out exactly what was leaked,” I said.
“Talk to your own attorney.”
“Trevor said the same thing.”
“He’s becoming inconveniently sensible.”
“He hates when people say sensible.”
“Then don’t tell him.”
She almost laughed.
“I have to go.”
“Savannah.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t blame the assistant publicly.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking about it.”
A pause.
“Maybe.”
“Don’t.”
She hung up without promising.
That afternoon, Marcus Vance’s office called me directly.
His assistant, Claire, spoke with the efficient warmth of someone who had spent years preventing wealthy men from creating scheduling emergencies.
“Mr. Vance wanted to make sure your plans have not changed.”
“They haven’t.”
“Good.”
There was a pause.
“He is aware of the online attention.”
My shoulders tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t create it.”
“No, but—”
“Elena.”
Claire’s tone softened.
“He is attending because he has known Sterling for fourteen years and because you helped keep one of his company’s projects from becoming an environmental lawsuit.”
“That is not quite how I would describe it.”
“It is how he describes it.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Okay.”
“He also wanted me to tell you something else.”
“What?”
“He received a call from your mother.”
Of course he had.
“When?”
“This morning.”
“What did she want?”
Claire hesitated just enough to make me nervous.
“She asked whether he might divide his time between the two weddings.”
I shut my eyes.
“She actually asked that?”
“She suggested he could attend your ceremony and Savannah’s reception.”
I pressed two fingers against my temple.
“What did he say?”
“He declined.”
“Politely?”
“Marcus is seventy-one.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“It probably does.”
I laughed despite myself.
Claire continued.
“He asked me to make clear that he does not want his attendance used against your sister.”
That surprised me.
“He said that?”
“Yes.”
“He also said he has no interest in becoming a symbol in a family argument.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He would prefer to be a guest.”
“He will be.”
After the call, I sat quietly for several minutes.
May you like
The entire confrontation Patricia had feared, or perhaps hoped for, was losing its shape.
Marcus was not choosing me over Savannah.
