Stone Cold Fox (53)



I made sure Syl was invited. I thought it was appropriate enough to include her by then and I wanted a friendly companion nearby, especially if Gale pulled something like she did at the engagement party. Syl could be a stabilizing force so I could get my game face on. Our lunches were becoming more frequent and we had even indulged in a happy hour or two, sometimes with Collin in tow. He was supportive that I appeared to be making a real friend, something he hadn’t witnessed before. Perhaps the professional boundaries were getting a bit muddled, but she was like my little pet, despite her years on me, always wanting to please me. I loved giving her advice about getting ahead at work and how to impress Collin. I could be a charitable person when it was warranted, unlike Mother. I genuinely wanted Syl to succeed! I wished I could give her dating advice, too. Maybe she would leave her unworthy fiancé and find an upwardly mobile man to exploit and also, for someone like her, to love. She would need both, I could tell that much. Essentially, I believed she could be more like me if she really set her mind to it. A little nudge here and there in the right direction could set her on course, unlike Wren Daly, who couldn’t be course-corrected with a cattle prod she was so dense. I was even in Collin’s ear about Syl sometimes, too. I asked him to look out for her career trajectory, without being too demanding. He would nod in approval, smiling, clearly tickled I was taking care of my friend. I shared that with her.

“You don’t want to be an executive assistant forever, do you?” I asked Syl at the shower. We had managed to tuck ourselves away in the corner of the venue with champagne. “The possibilities are endless if you know what you’re doing. You have real potential. I can see it.”

Syl looked unsure. Maybe she was just not in the mood to talk about work at a party. Fair, but I didn’t know why she seemed so distant. I was the bride, I should have had her full attention. “I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s not a bad life if you have a good boss, which I do.”

“Cute,” I said.

“You look fucking amazing by the way,” Syl said to me, artfully changing the subject with the highest of compliments, coming from the second-hottest person at the party. She looked amazing as well, if I’m being honest. Syl wore a shocking hot-pink off-the-shoulder bandage dress that made her fake tan really pop. She nearly showed me up, but I’d had professional glam done for the occasion, so fat chance competing with airbrushed skin and mink eyelashes.

“Thanks, Syl. I’m really glad you’re here. I barely know any of these people.”

“Are you kidding? Thank you for inviting me! I’m dying to formally meet Mrs. Case and the wild sister.”

“Calliope?”

“If you ask me, they were asking for trouble giving her a name like that!” She laughed, glancing over at Calliope, who was talking some poor woman’s face off over by the macarons. A bump or two must have been had. “And I can’t believe Chloe stuck to the dress code,” Syl added. “I’ve never seen her in anything but black when she’s at the office.”

I laughed. “I’m sure it is painful for her to be shrouded in salmon right now, but familial duty calls. Can you believe I’m actually going to be related to these people?”

“No,” Syl said, no longer laughing. “But here you are.”

“I’ll introduce you to Calliope. I suspect she might be a kindred spirit at heart.”

“Oh yeah! She looks like she likes to party.” Syl snorted. She was getting a little judgmental and I couldn’t get enough of it. It was fun to talk a little shit with someone, and as if on cue to rain on my proverbial parade, we were interrupted.

“Well, you must be Miss Sylvia! Finally, we meet in person,” Gale squawked. She approached Syl in a burgundy sheath with an unfavorable hemline smack-dab in the middle of her calves. Burgundy. Technically a shade of red, but surely she must have known that a frock the color of an aged wine was not really the vibe for a bridal shower. Nor was it remotely flattering on her dusty complexion. “We’re so happy you could join us. I know Bea is very fond of you.”

Gale pulled Syl in close, with her fingertips only. One of those half-hearted hugs reminiscent of Haven and likely Gale’s mother. Syl fidgeted out of Gale’s soft grasp, slightly taken aback by the maneuver. She must have been struck by the colloquial touch of a stranger, but I wasn’t surprised. The gauge for Gale’s social cues was almost always off-kilter. “Nice to see you,” Syl said, eyes down at her feet. “Excuse me, ladies. I’m just going to run to the restroom. Does the bride need anything when I come back?”

“Oh, no. I’m just fine here with the maid of honor at my service,” I said, noting the roll of Gale’s eyes. Syl practically sprinted away from us and I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t feel like making conversation with Gale either. Plus, it would be wise of Syl to circulate and network a bit at the party. Perhaps she was taking my advice to heart.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Gale asked me, insincerity abounding.

“Immensely. Thank you so much for planning such a wonderful event. Now, where’s your mother? I’d love to meet her.” I smiled.

“I’m sure you’ll cross paths. Haven will see to that.” Gale sneered. “Are you thinking of your own mother today?”

“Of course. I wish she could be here,” I said, shuddering internally at the thought. “I’m sure she would have loved the whole thing.”

Rachel Koller Croft's Books