Made in Manhattan

But he was a man. A man she wouldn’t humiliate in front of everyone. Not because she was perfect, people-pleasing Violet. Not because she was a placid paper doll who did others’ bidding. But because even an opportunistic man like Keith deserved to be rejected in private.

Because Violet Townsend knew the person she was: kind.

So she forced a smile. She couldn’t bring herself to say yes; she wouldn’t lie. But she let him push the ring on her finger, even as she began rehearsing the gentle letdown speech she would deliver shortly after.

Violet let herself be swept into a sea of congratulations, which she merely smiled at, knowing it would translate as stunned shyness.

She caught the scent of Edith’s familiar Lancôme perfume a moment before the older woman flanked her on one side. Smelled Ashley’s more citrusy perfume on the other, as Ashley protected her from the other side.

And she felt immediate relief, knowing they knew. Knowing they would support her.

Fittingly, the one least clued in to her distress seemed to be Keith, who was happily accepting the congrats on his promotion and his engagement, though he hadn’t so much as glanced at Violet since putting the ring on her finger.

Violet didn’t care. She wasn’t looking at him either. She was searching the crowd for another man entirely but couldn’t find him.

“Cain,” Violet whispered to Ashley. “Can you get me to Cain?”

Her friend squeezed her hand tightly. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. He left the second that idiot got down on one knee.”

Twenty-Eight

What did he say when you gave the ring back?” Alvin asked, pushing a cup of tea into Violet’s hand.

Edith was sitting beside Violet and pushed the teacup right back into Alvin’s hands. “For God’s sake Alvin, get the girl some brandy.”

“Brandy?” Ashley said in surprise.

“Something boozy. Anything,” Edith said with a wave of her hand.

Ashley pursed her lips, then scooped up Coco and gestured for Alvin to follow her out of Edith’s parlor. “Come on, Al. Let’s go see if you guys have got any tequila.”

“Slow down, young lady. I can’t walk as quick as I could, what with this flesh-eating bacteria on my tibia.”

Violet glanced at Edith for context.

“He scraped his shin on the brick wall in the garden,” Edith murmured. “I put the Neosporin on it myself. He’s fine.”

“Ah,” Violet said with a forced smile as she bowed her head tiredly.

“Oh, Violet,” Edith said, taking her hand. “You’ve had quite a night.”

“And you too,” Violet said, looking up to meet Edith’s eyes. “What happened, Edith? How could the board not see how smart Cain was, how much he wanted it, how great—”

“They did.”

Violet blinked. “What?”

“The board approved Cain in the vote yesterday. Not unanimously—I think we can assume you-know-who voted for himself. But there was overwhelming confidence in Cain’s abilities.”

“Then why…”

Edith touched her ruby necklace with a puzzlingly happy smile on her face. “Cain came to me yesterday morning. After the vote, but before the results. He let me know he didn’t want it.”

Violet’s heart sank and broke at the same time. “He’s going back to his life in New Orleans,” she said flatly.

“No, no. I should have clarified,” Edith said quickly. “He said he didn’t want it like this. He didn’t want a job because it had been handed to him by circumstance of his birth. He wants to be CEO of the company someday, but he wants to do it the right way. To work his way to the top. He wants to earn it.”

The news should have felt like a bombshell, but it somehow… didn’t. It fit. Cain, who so desperately wanted to be seen and appreciated for who he was, wouldn’t have been proud to take over the company simply because he’d shaved.

“You’re okay with this?” Violet asked Edith.

“More than okay. I could not be prouder, in fact, and I have no doubt he’ll climb the ladder in record time so we can oust that—that… douche from my office,” Edith said with a fierce scowl.

Violet smiled a little at Edith’s unexpected use of the word douche, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“Why didn’t Cain just tell me?” she asked Edith miserably.

Edith’s smile faded. “He begged me not to tell you and wouldn’t tell me why, though… I do have some suspicions.”

Violet waited.

“I think,” Edith said, choosing her words carefully, “that a man who wants to earn a job the right way would want to earn a woman’s love the right way too.”

“But love isn’t earned,” Violet protested. “It’s given. Freely.”

Edith smiled fondly and tucked Violet’s hair behind her ear. “I’m happy to hear you say that. And I hope you know that you’ve never had to earn my love.”

“Let’s just say it’s been a recent realization,” Violet said. “But I appreciate hearing it. Oh, and Edith, while we’re on the topic of employment—”