Chapter 3 - Poison in the Champagne
The annual St. Jude Children’s Research Gala at the Art Institute of Chicago was the premier event of the spring social calendar. Crystal chandeliers cast warm illumination over silk gowns, tailored tuxedos, and Chicago’s elite.
Evelyn arrived looking radiant in an emerald green silk gown that draped effortlessly down her frame. Preston stood beside her, looking polished and confident, playing the part of the devoted titan of industry.
Yet, as they moved through the ballroom greeting senators and board members, Evelyn noticed the subtle glances toward the north entrance.
There, standing near the grand staircase in a backless crimson dress that screamed for attention, was Brooke Ellison.
Brooke held a champagne glass, her blond curls falling over her shoulders. She caught Preston’s eye across the room and gave him a tiny, knowing smirk—a brazen display of dominance designed to test how far she could push her boundaries.
Preston’s jaw clenched slightly. Panic flashed through his eyes as he looked down at Evelyn, but Evelyn’s expression remained placid.
"Isn't that your new senior analyst over by the stairs, Preston?" Evelyn asked smoothly, leaning in close to him. "Brooke, right?"
Preston swallowed hard. "Ah... yes. I didn't realize she was attending tonight. She must have received an invitation through the junior board committee."
"How delightful," Evelyn said. "Let’s go say hello. It’s important to show our staff that we appreciate their hard work."
Before Preston could object, Evelyn gracefully led him across the polished marble floor toward Brooke. Brooke’s smirk broadened as they approached, expecting a tense, hidden confrontation.
"Brooke, good evening," Evelyn said, her tone dripping with effortless warmth and absolute authority. "You look lovely tonight. That dress is quite... vibrant."
Brooke tilted her chin, her eyes flashing with masked malice. "Mrs. Rhodes. It’s an honor. Preston always speaks so highly of your... quiet life at home with the child."
The subtle dig was clear: You're the boring housewife. I'm the woman in his bed.
Preston looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. "Brooke, we were just about to join the Mayor's table—"
"Nonsense, Preston," Evelyn interrupted gently. "I wanted to congratulate Brooke personally on her recent work for Whitaker Development." Evelyn turned to face several high-society matriarchs who had gathered nearby, including Victoria Sterling, the city’s most influential philanthropist.
"Victoria," Evelyn called out softly. "Have you met Brooke? She’s our administrative liaison. She’s been doing such an extraordinary job managing our out-of-state regional accounts in California."
Brooke’s smile stiffened.
"Oh?" Victoria Sterling observed Brooke with a sharp, critical eye that picked up the overly ostentatious diamond necklace resting against Brooke's collarbone. "An administrative assistant wearing Cartier’s late-season collection? My, Whitaker Development must pay its secretarial staff remarkably well."
A wave of quiet, stifled giggles rippled through the surrounding group of high-society women. Brooke’s face flushed a deep, humiliating red.
"It was a gift," Brooke snapped, losing her composure for a second. "From someone who truly appreciates my value."
"How sweet," Evelyn murmured, taking a slow sip of her champagne. "My late father always said that people who wear their compensation on their necks usually have very little substance left in their heads. Don't you agree, Preston?"
Preston’s face was pale. "Evelyn, we really should take our seats."
May you like
"Of course, darling," Evelyn said smoothly. She turned back to Brooke with a look of pure, icy pity. "Enjoy the evening, Brooke. Don't stay up too late. We have a corporate audit starting at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, and we'd hate for our staff to look... fatigued."
As Evelyn walked away on Preston’s arm, she heard Brooke’s sharp intake of breath behind them. The mistress had wanted a dramatic rivalry; Evelyn had treated her like a minor inconvenience on the heel of her shoe.
