Chapter 2 - The Cracks in the Tuxedo
The wedding reception continued, but the atmosphere had permanently shifted. The focus was no longer on Nicholas's carefully curated "important people" at Table One; the entire gravity of the ballroom had pulled toward the back corner.
Throughout the evening, prominent executives who had previously ignored me suddenly found reasons to walk past Table Nineteen. The CEO of Vanguard Holdings casually strolled over with a glass of champagne, attempting to strike up a conversation with Emmett, only for Emmett to seamlessly redirect the dialogue.
"You'll have to pitch that concept to Jenna, Harold," Emmett said, not even looking up from the paper placemat where he was currently coloring a castle. "She handles the narrative framing for all our high-level ventures. If she thinks your pitch lacks substance, I won't even read the executive summary."
Harold, a man who managed a twenty-billion-dollar portfolio, looked at me with a sudden, intense respect. "Is that so? Ms. Vance, I would love to schedule a consultation with your firm next week. Name your rate."
"My firm is currently at capacity, Harold," I replied, sipping my iced water with complete composure. "But you can submit a proposal through my agency. If the project aligns with our values, we'll let you know."
Nicholas watched this interaction from afar, his face flushing crimson. He was supposed to be the star of the night. He had spent three years climbing the corporate ladder at a boutique investment firm, constantly bragging to our parents about his elite network. Now, his younger sister, the one he had tried to hide behind the kitchen doors, was casually turning down the most powerful man in his industry.
An hour later, as the live band began playing a slow jazz standard, my father approached the table. He looked uncomfortable, unaccustomed to treating me as an equal, let alone someone of higher status.
"Jenna," he said, clearing his throat. "Can I speak with you outside for a moment? Just family."
I looked at Emmett, who gave me a supportive nod. "Go ahead. I'll make sure the dinosaurs don't launch a counter-attack while you're gone."
I followed my father out of the ballroom and into the moonlit courtyard of the estate. The air was crisp, smelling of pine and expensive floral arrangements. Waiting near the stone fountain were my mother and Nicholas. Nicholas's tuxedo jacket was unbuttoned, his tie loosened, the perfect image he had spent hours perfecting beginning to unravel.
"What is the meaning of this, Jenna?" Nicholas burst out the moment the heavy glass doors closed behind me. "You lied to us! You sat there at Sunday dinners letting us think you were barely making rent, while you were rubbing elbows with billionaires? You made a fool out of me in front of my bosses!"
"I never lied to you, Nicholas," I said, crossing my arms against the cool breeze. "You never asked. For five years, every time I tried to talk about my work, you interrupted to talk about your promotions. You and Mom and Dad decided who I was before I even had a chance to speak."
"We are your parents, Jenna," my mother said, her voice laced with defensive hurt. "We always wanted what was best for you. But you kept secrets. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was for the Governor to ask me why my daughter was sitting with the toddlers while Emmett Stewart was catering to her?"
"You didn't care where I was sitting until Emmett sat next to me," I pointed out, my voice cutting through their excuses. "Nicholas literally told me I would ruin the photos if I stood near the entrance. He put me at Table Nineteen because he thought I wasn't successful enough to be seen with his friends."
Nicholas stepped forward, his eyes wild with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Look, fine! I made a mistake, okay? The seating chart was a mess. But you need to fix this, Jenna. Emmett Stewart's firm is currently looking for a new lead underwriting bank for their next acquisition. My firm is desperate for that contract. If I lose it because you're throwing a tantrum, it will ruin my career!"
I looked at my brother, seeing him clearly for the first time in years. The arrogance was gone, replaced by the raw, naked greed of a man who viewed people only as stepping stones.
"My professional relationship with Emmett is based on results, Nicholas," I said coldly. "He respects me because I deliver. I will not compromise my integrity or my clients' trust to help you secure a contract you haven't earned."
"Jenna!" my father barked, using his authoritative tone. "He is your brother. Family comes first. You will introduce Nicholas properly to Mr. Stewart, and you will ensure his firm gets a fair hearing. That is an order."
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I let out a soft, sad laugh. "An order? Dad, I haven't lived under your roof since I was eighteen. I don't take orders from you anymore. And as for family coming first... you might want to remind Nicholas of that the next time he decides to exile his own sister to the kitchen doors."
Without waiting for their reply, I turned around and walked back toward the warmth of the ballroom, leaving the three of them standing in the shadows of the courtyard.
