Chapter 3 — Bitter Past

Connor

“Can you believe this, son?" Juliette says to Connor. "Who would've guessed that we'd be invited to a Hill-Emerson wedding!"

Connor nods, but he doesn't really care. Mr. Emerson was kind enough to give everyone an invitation, so it doesn't make them any special. Everyone's here; the cook, the maids, the gardeners. Everyone who works for him.

His father, Victor, grumbles. "You're making too much of this, woman. You're so honored that you aren't even having a good time."

That's exactly what Connor thought.

"Hush," his mother says, frowning. "You should be more thankful. He didn't have to give us this invitation. He has tremendous respect for us, all of us."

Benjamin leans forward and lifts his glass of chardonnay. "I need a smoke. Who's coming with me?"

"I am," Martha says. "This wedding is fucking boring. If we dance, we're like the poor employees who only cause trouble and should've never been invited. If we don't, we're bored as fuck. Being rich is no fun."

"Which kind of defeats the purpose of being loaded, right?" Denise adds, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Having money means being free to do whatever you want, go to the best places, have the most fun."

Victor waves her statement off. "We all know that isn't the case. They live in fear. They're afraid of everyone and everything."

"Opinions are so important."

"Don't forget about reputation."

"That's enough," Juliette says firmly. "We work for them and it isn't our place to judge them, you know that. If anyone overhears us, we'll all be unemployed by tomorrow."

Martha rolls her eyes. She looks like a fox; her eyes are slits and her thin lips are always in a mischievous smile. "Nobody cares about what the staff has to say, Juliette. Stop being so paranoid. You're not going to get an award for defending them, you know."

She follows Benjamin out of the room. His mother huffs and turns away from them. She's upset by their comments, but she'll get over it. It's not that Connor doesn't understand why she never speaks ill of them; she's very grateful to Mr. Emerson for taking her in when she was only seventeen. She was an orphan and she needed a job. Plus, they're paying for his education. Mr. Emerson wants him to graduate and work for him in one of his businesses. He'll be done in a year, and his mother says it'll be a fresh start for them. He'll be earning a lot more and he

won't have to act like a driver/bodyguard whenever Benjamin lies about having something to take care of when in actuality he's just banging Francesca Emerson in a hotel somewhere.

Oh, yes. Everyone who works in the Emerson house knows about their affair.

They keep it a secret, though. Rather, they act like they don't know a thing. No one wants to get in shit with Daniel Emerson. He's known for his temper. He wasn't happy the last time someone started rumors about his wife, but that was before Benjamin came along. That's why the guy's so cocky. He shouldn't be, because the day Daniel finds out, he'll be a dead man.

He takes his mother's hand. "Do you want something?"

"No," she says, drinking some water.

He stands up, mainly because he wants to stretch his legs. He's tired of sitting, he's been sitting for the past three hours. All he hears is his mother talk about dresses and hairstyles and little tidbits of gossip he doesn't care about. He doesn't give a rat's ass about these people.

He moves towards the refreshment tables. There's so much food and it's like no one's eating it. The rich have money, but they don't fucking eat. And he's sure that all of this will be in the trash come tomorrow, which is a disgrace considering how many people are starving out there. He hates coming to events like this, but he can't refuse since Mr. Emerson's the one who invited them. He's a good man, but they're not a part of his world. Connor isn't comfortable surrounded by all these people.

He's popping an olive in his mouth when Vivienne Hill walks past him. He gets a whiff of her perfume. She's all everyone's talking about. The Sad Bride. Mrs. Frown. They're calling her all sorts of names. He agrees, she doesn't look happy, but it shouldn't be a laughing matter.

Then again, why should he care about her?

He has a canapé. It's a piece of smoked salmon on a cracker, not his favorite. He turns, meaning to go back to his table, and nearly collides with Mr. Emerson. He didn't see him standing right behind him. He slaps his back affectionately. "How's it going, kid? Are you having fun?"

"It's alright, Mr. Emerson. The party, I mean."

"Yes," the man says, fixing his bow tie. "It's alright. I was wondering if we can have a little talk?"

He nods and follows him out of the room, away from the stifling heat. It feels so much better to be outside. There are numerous cars lining the street, and some people are standing outside. He spots Benjamin and Martha, passing a cigarette between them. They watch him with dark, curious eyes. He grits his teeth and pays attention to what Mr. Emerson has to say. There's no point in getting worked up because of those two.

Mr. Emerson sighs. "I bet everyone's having a laugh in there. This night turned out to be a disaster, wouldn't you agree?"

He tells him the truth. He's always been open with him, ever since he was little. Mr. Emerson appreciates his honesty. He's always mentioned it. "A little bit."

"Gabriel," he mutters beneath his breath. "He's stubborn. Never listens to me. He shouldn't have left, but then again, he had business to attend to."

"He left for Miami?"

"He's on his way to the airport," he nods.

"And his wife?" He asks this out of curiosity, not because he genuinely cares. Again, he doesn't care about Vivienne Hill. In fact, he thinks he might hate her. Hate is a strong word, but it's all he can offer at the moment. He really doesn't fucking like her.

"She's staying with us. It's safer here. Which is why I wanted to talk to you." Connor grinds his molars together. He has an idea where this is going, and he doesn't like it one bit.

"Benjamin has his hands full with Suzette and Francesca," he begins. "Now, Vivienne isn't the outdoorsy type, but he might not have time for her is what I mean, in case she chooses to get out of the house. So I was wondering if maybe you could help me with that. I know you're busy with your education and your other duties, but it would mean a lot to me if you could give her a hand, if she happens to need it. Drive her around, stay by her side when she's out. You know the drill."

He knows the drill, of course he does. Drive Vivienne Hill around? Spend time with her? Fuck no. He wasn't expecting that at all. He doesn't want to, but he can't very well say this to Mr. Emerson, who has always been good to him. He says, "It'd be an honor, sir." But he means the opposite. It'll be a burden. She's a pain in the ass.

He slaps his shoulder. "I knew I could count on you, kid. Come on, let's go back inside."

His mother is standing by the refreshments when he returns. She grabs his arm and asks him, "What did he say?"

He turns to face her. "He wants me to be Vivienne Hill's bodyguard. Drive her around, do whatever she tells me to do. Gabriel left and didn't take his bride with him."

"Don't be so grim," she says, rubbing his arm. "She's not going to stay here forever. Gabriel is going to come back for her someday."

Is he? They all heard the rumors. Mrs. Emerson is extremely vocal about her opinions, and she's not afraid of letting anyone hear them. The truth is that Gabriel isn't at all interested in Vivienne, and everyone knows that. It was different before he left, but clearly something has changed.

He follows his mother back to the table. His father looks at them, but it's like he doesn't register that it's them. He's had far too much to drink. It's time to get him home, or he'll cause a scene. That can't happen.

Benjamin returns alongside Martha. They're whispering to each other again, which is never a good thing. He ignores them and tells his mother that it's time to get his father home. She silently agrees, even though she's disappointed that she'll have to leave. She's been excited about this wedding for months, and it's a shame that it was all in vain.

They're in the car, and his parents are in the backseat. Every time he thinks about having to spend time with Vivienne, he feels a surge of anger. He promised himself that he'd never look her in the face ever again, not after that fateful day twelve years ago. A long time ago, yes, but what she did was unforgivable. She wrongfully accused him.

She wasn't even there.

He closes his eyes for a second, willing himself to calm the fuck down. He's not going to be able to disguise his disgust towards her, and that won't be good for anyone. He doesn't want to disappoint Mr. Emerson. He's done a lot for him and his family, and he's the only reason why he said yes. If it were anyone else asking, he'd tell them to fuck right off. He'd pack his bags and leave.

That's how much he despises that woman.

He gets his father in bed and goes outside their little flat for a smoke. He rarely smokes, but he needs something tonight. They live on the Emerson property, all of them do. No one's back yet, so it's peaceful. His mother joins him, and he crushes the cigarette beneath his shoe. She sighs and wraps her arms around him. "It's alright, son. It isn't permanent. You'll graduate soon, in any case. You'll be given a better job."

He nods. "I know."

She's quiet for some time, then says, "You know, I never figured out what happened between you two. You were friends. You used to play together when you were much younger."

Don't tell anyone. Don't tell anyone.

He doesn't answer her, but only because he made a promise that he wouldn't years ago. He keeps his promises. He's surprised by how it physically pains him to think of that day, how his mouth dries up, how his heartbeat accelerates.

"Come on inside," she says. "You'll catch a cold."