Chapter 6 - Uninvited Guests
Panic spiked through my chest for a split second. What were they doing here? How had they even gotten in?
Then I remembered: Vanessa Reed managed this event. Nobody got into a V.I.P. gala like this without an official invitation or a very specific reason.
Vanessa’s eyes flashed with predatory amusement. "Oh, this is going to be good. Stay right here, Claire. I'm going to go see what circus animal let these clowns in."
I watched as Vanessa glided across the polished marble floor, intercepting my father and stepmother just as they were trying to sneak past the reception desk. I saw Natalie flashing her brightest, most artificial smile at a passing waiter while scanning the room, clearly looking for me or for someone important to impress.
Within moments, Vanessa had her hand firmly on Natalie's elbow, steering the panicked pair directly toward the service area where I was standing.
"Claire, darling!" Natalie chirped the moment she spotted me, putting on a sickeningly affectionate tone. "There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you!"
I crossed my arms, maintaining a cool, unreadable expression. "Natalie. Dad. What are you doing here? This is a private, invitation-only event."
My father looked deeply exhausted, his shoulders slumped. He avoided my eyes, staring down at the polished floorboards. "Claire... please. We need to talk. Things have been... difficult at home since you left."
"Difficult?" Natalie interrupted, her forced smile slipping into a sharp scowl. She quickly covered it up, smoothing down her sequined dress. "What your father means, Claire, is that we realized there was a terrible misunderstanding. Family is family, after all. When we heard you were catering this magnificent event for the Vances, we knew we had to come support you!"
I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Support me? Natalie, the last time you 'supported' me, you smashed a four-thousand-dollar cake with a marble rolling pin and told Dad I should have put family first."
Several nearby guests, including a few high-profile business owners, turned their heads at the mention of a smashed cake. Natalie’s face flushed bright red with mortification.
"Lower your voice, you ungrateful little brat!" Natalie hissed, dropping the sweet act entirely. "We came here to offer you an olive branch! Brooke is crying her eyes out because her sister abandoned her right before her wedding, and your father hasn't slept a wink!"
"Claire," my father said quietly, finally looking up at me. His eyes were bloodshot, carrying a heavy weight of regret. "Natalie is right... sort of. I shouldn't have said what I said in the kitchen. I was shocked, and I reacted poorly. But please... come home. Brooke's wedding is in three weeks, and everyone in the family is taking sides. People are saying horrible things about us."
I looked at my father. For a brief moment, a flicker of old childhood longing tugged at my heart. I wanted my dad back. I wanted the man who used to read me bedtime stories before Natalie and Brooke entered our lives.
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Then I remembered the fifty dollars on my eighteenth birthday. I remembered the European trip for Brooke while I paid for my own pastry school. I remembered the sound of my cake shattering on the kitchen floor while my father told me family comes first.
"People are saying horrible things about you, Dad?" I asked quietly. "Or are people finally realizing what you and Natalie have been doing for the last fourteen years?"
