Henry places a hand on the small of my back and guides me into the open elevator. “Good night, Sullivan.”
“Good night, sir. Good night, Ms. Mitchell.” The guard’s sympathetic smile disappears behind the shuttered doors.
I flop against the wall. I can’t wait to crawl into bed. “What am I going to do if she doesn’t come around?” Our little dinner celebration fizzled quickly, with the Enderbeys and Laura returning home, and Henry and my father venturing into the living room with snifters of cognac while I helped Aunt May clean up in the kitchen.
Mama ambled through the door as we were finishing up and announced in a quiet, worn voice that she was betrayed, broken-hearted, and going to bed. She wouldn’t even acknowledge me.
“She could win an Academy Award for her portrayal of the victim,” Aunt May had whispered then, rolling her eyes and patting my arm with comfort. “Ignore it.”
But ignoring Mama’s antics is easier said than done.
“She’ll come around,” Henry promises as our elevator flies to the very top of the building. We couldn’t stop at any of the other floors if we wanted to. This is our dedicated elevator.
“You don’t know Mama. ‘Hell hath no fury like Bernadette scorned.’”
“I know she cares about keeping up appearances. How will it look to her congregation if everyone, including the reverend and Jed, has accepted this marriage and she refuses to? After she’s been running around, planning the entire thing for you?”
“She’ll look petty,” I agree. She’d be the butt of all the church gossip. They’d see it for what it was—Mama trying to get her way. People know what she’s truly like, even if she hides it behind smiles and sweet words. “That was smart of you to ask him to come to Alaska.”
“I’ve handled my share of difficult people in the past. I know how to get my way.”
I don’t doubt that for a second. Henry has had me agreeing to things I never thought I would. “You know, if she does come, she’ll be a pain in the ass the entire time at Wolf Cove.”
“That’s fine. I’ll make Belinda deal with her.”
Picturing Wolf Cove’s previous manager in her tight, cleavage-bearing dress, facing off against Mama—who would no doubt label Belinda a harlot at first glance—is enough to make me giggle.
“That’s better.”
The elevator doors open. Henry guides me out while I admire the pearl and diamond ring on my finger, wondering for at least the hundredth time if this engagement is a dream that I’m about to wake from.
The scent of fresh paint tickles my nostrils. It still lingers, weeks after Henry ordered a wall built for added security. No one will ever surprise us again like Scott did, he insisted when the workers showed up.
The phone to the lobby security is ringing as we step into the penthouse.
“Yes?” Henry says by way of greeting, then frowns. “Again? What time is it?” He checks his watch as he asks this. “No … no … send her up. Please … That’s fine.” He drops the receiver on the base.
“Send who up?” I ask warily.
“My niece is paying me another visit.” He gives me a knowing look.
“Violet?”
“Or whatever her real name is.”
“Now? How did she even know we came home?” I didn’t see her sitting in the lobby area. I would have remembered her.
His frown grows deeper. “She must have been watching the building from the outside, waiting for me to come home. Who knows how long she’s been sitting there.”
Hours, maybe. And what if we had come in through the parking garage? Her efforts would have been all for nothing.
“Is this a good idea?” While the teenage girl didn’t appear to be a threat, looks can be deceiving, and this whole situation reeks of desperation.
“Probably not, but she told security she’d wait outside for the reporters to come back and then cause a huge scene if they didn’t let her up to see me.”
I groan. “That’s all we need.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Henry sheds his jacket and tosses it on the hook. “It’ll be fine. Sullivan’s escorting her. How much trouble can she cause with him here?”
A moment later, the elevator dings. I hold my breath as we watch Violet step out, her shoulders hunched within a black hoodie, the hem of her blue jeans dragging across the travertine marble floor. A ponytail gives her a more youthful appearance.