“Actually, Claire, you won’t be coming tomorrow.” Margaret said it while standing in my kitchen, drinking coffee from a mug I had bought, in a house where she had never once knocked before entering. For a second, I honestly thought I had misheard her.

Saturday morning dawned bright, crisp, and completely clear over Cincinnati.

At Ashford Hall, the event staff were working furiously to execute the basic parameters of the Bennett contract. Because Margaret had finally cleared the outstanding balance late Friday night, the venue doors were opened, and the main ballroom was set up.

However, the difference between a standard Ashford Hall event and a Claire Bennett Managing Partner Event was night and day.

There were no hand-carved ice sculptures in the foyer. The tables were covered in standard white cotton linens rather than the imported silk damask Claire had reserved. The service staff moved efficiently, but there were only six servers for one hundred and fifty guests—meaning drinks were delayed, and appetizer trays sat empty for long stretches.

In the bridal suite upstairs, Emily was sitting in front of the vanity mirror as a hair stylist worked on her veil.

Margaret was pacing behind her, wearing a costly champagne-colored gown that looked slightly wrinkled from her stressful morning.

“I still can't believe the nerve of that girl,” Margaret hissed, adjusting her diamond necklace. “To pull a stunt like that on the eve of my daughter’s wedding! She deliberately tried to destroy this family!”

Emily looked at her mother in the mirror, her expression cold and deadpan. “Mom, shut up.”

Margaret froze, gasping softly. “Emily! How dare you speak to me like that!”

“No, Mom,” Emily said, turning around in her chair, her eyes burning with resentment. “You caused this. You insulted Claire in her own house. You knew she managed this venue, and you treated her like dirt because you wanted to look big in front of Ryan’s parents.”

“I was protecting our family’s reputation!” Margaret defended indignantly. “Ryan’s father is a senior partner at Vance, Sterling & Croft! Do you think he wants his son marrying into a family where the sister-in-law is a common restaurant worker?”

Before Margaret could finish her sentence, the door to the bridal suite opened, and Eleanor Vance stepped inside.

Eleanor was wearing an understated, ultra-elegant navy silk dress. Her expression was completely unreadable.

“Eleanor!” Margaret immediately gushed, stepping forward with fake warmth. “Oh, look at our sweet girl! Isn't she stunning?”

Eleanor didn't smile. She looked at Margaret, then at Emily.

“Margaret,” Eleanor said coolly. “My husband and I were just downstairs speaking with the executive catering manager, Mr. Reynolds.”

Margaret’s smile faltered slightly. “Oh? Paul? He’s been rather difficult to work with, I must admit—”

“Paul mentioned that the entire concept, layout, and vendor coordination for this wedding was handled personally over the last six months by Claire Bennett,” Eleanor interrupted quietly. “He also mentioned that Mrs. Bennett is a primary equity partner in Larkspur Hospitality Group... the company that owns this property, along with five of the highest-rated dining establishments in the state.”

Margaret’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Eleanor stepped closer to Margaret, her eyes narrowed in absolute disdain. “Harrison and I were under the impression, based on your constant remarks over dinner last month, that Daniel’s wife was an uneducated, low-level service worker who embarrassed your family.”

“She... she used to wait tables—” Margaret stammered out.

“She started at the bottom of her industry and built a multi-million-dollar hospitality empire before the age of thirty-five,” Eleanor said sharply. “Harrison and I find self-made success profoundly impressive, Margaret. What we find deeply distasteful... is snobbery built on borrowed money.”

Margaret turned bright crimson.