Chapter 3 - THE DINNER SPEECHES
The rehearsal dinner was a display of unbridled extravagance.
Long banquet tables were adorned with white orchids, imported silk runners, and gold-plated cutlery. The Wellingtons had spared no expense, mostly because they wanted everyone in attendance to know exactly how much money they had.
I was seated at Table 14, tucked away near the kitchen doors alongside distant cousins and secondary business associates. My family sat at Table 1, directly in front of the head table.
Halfway through the second course, Trevor Wellington stood up, tapping a silver spoon against his crystal glass. The room fell silent.
“Thank you, everyone,” Trevor said, adjusting his designer tuxedo jacket. “Patricia, my dad Preston, and I just want to say how thrilled we are to bring you all to Crystal Bay. When Vanessa and I were looking for venues, we wanted something that reflected our standard of excellence. This weekend is costing us almost three hundred thousand dollars, but as my dad always says—quality costs money, and we only deal in top-tier.”
The room erupted into polite applause. Preston Wellington, sitting beside his son, puffed out his chest with pride.
Patricia picked up her glass. “And let’s be honest,” she added with a tinkling laugh, “this resort is nearly impossible to book. They don't just take anyone’s money. They only accept the right people.”
At Table 1, Derek turned around in his chair, looking back toward my table near the kitchen. He caught my eye and raised his glass with a smirk that practically screamed, See, Maya? This is what real success looks like.
Christina leaned over to my mother, loud enough for the adjacent tables to hear. “I saw Maya arrive earlier in a black Tesla Model 3. It’s probably a basic rental or a lease she can barely afford. Meanwhile, Trevor bought Vanessa a brand-new Porsche Range Rover as a wedding gift.”
My mother sighed softly. “I just wish Maya had focused more on finding a good provider instead of hopping from job to job. It’s sad, really.”
I listened quietly, taking a small sip of my ice water. My phone vibrated in my lap.
It was a text from Marcus, my fiancé, who was currently in New York finalizing our firm’s acquisition of a luxury hotel group in Europe.
“How’s the circus going?” he texted.
“Exactly how I expected,” I replied. “They’ve mentioned the $300k price tag about five times already.”
“Do you want me to charter a flight down tonight and step in? I can have our legal team clarify who actually owns that dirt.”
I smiled down at my screen. “No. Don't ruin your meetings. I’m staying. The wedding is tomorrow, and I want to see this play out.”
Later that evening, after the speeches concluded and guests spilled out onto the sea-breeze terrace for nightcaps, Derek intercepted me near the ocean railing.
He held a glass of twenty-year-old scotch, his jacket unbuttoned, leaning against the polished stone.
“I’m going to give you some brotherly advice, Maya,” he said, his breath smelling of whiskey. “Don't come to the ceremony tomorrow.”
I leaned against the railing, looking out at the dark expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. “And why is that, Derek?”
“Because you don't belong in this world,” he said flatly. “You’re thirty-two years old. You’re working some low-level hospitality job, wearing cheap clothes, pretending you’re fine while the rest of us have built actual lives. Look around you.” He gestured wildly with his glass toward the sprawling, lit-up resort grounds. “This is real life, Maya. This is high society. Maybe if you’d made better choices after college instead of wasting years at a coffee shop, you’d understand.”
I turned my head slowly to look at him. I saw the arrogance in his posture, the deep-seated need to feel superior, and the complete absence of curiosity about who I had actually become.
“Are you finished?” I asked quietly.
Derek frowned, thrown off by my total lack of emotion. “I’m trying to save you the humiliation, Maya.”
“Then go back inside and enjoy the open bar, Derek. You’ve had enough to drink.”
He scoffed, shook his head, and muttered, “Unbelievable. Some people just refuse to be helped.”
May you like
He walked away, leaving me alone with the sound of the crashing waves. He had no idea that the very ground he was standing on, the bar he was drinking from, and the staff serving him were all part of my corporate portfolio.
And tomorrow was going to be an unforgettable lesson in humility.
