‘Good.’

‘What’s wrong with art galleries?’ she said, suddenly defensive of the career she had rejected.

‘They’re the ultimate conjuring trick. Rich people selling stuff to other rich people. I thought it would be perfect for you.’

She felt her back straighten even more.

‘I went to work in a gallery because I majored in art history.’

‘And here’s me thinking that university was supposed to expand our horizons, not limit us to the choices we made at eighteen.’

She resisted the urge to shake her head. It would have been nice having someone her own age living next door, but Jim Johnson was pompous and insufferable.

She was almost looking forward to the Gilberts’ arrival, when her wish was granted and she heard movement behind her.

Carolyn Gilbert appeared first on the terrace. She was a classic trophy wife, a former caterer who had landed one of her clients, Robert Gilbert, one of the city’s richest financiers. Everyone pretended not to remember her celebrity as a local beauty queen.

Today, in a blue patterned tunic, flanked by her handsome husband and son, the one-time Miss Southern Dream looked like the ultimate WASP.

Connor smiled when he saw Jennifer, but she noticed there was a tightness to his expression. She regretted not having got round to a telephone conversation earlier, but hoped that the presence of the Johnsons might stop any sort of confrontation. Mr and Mrs Gilbert were far too polite for that.

‘Sweetheart,’ he said, kissing her formally on the cheek. Aware of Jim Johnson watching them, she wished that Connor had behaved a bit more demonstratively, so she took her boyfriend’s hand and did not let it go as she said hello to his mother and father.

Sylvia almost ran up the lawn when she saw them, and ordered Marion to bring the food to the table.

‘I’m so glad you could come over. It’s just something casual, a little finger buffet, but I thought it would be nice to get everyone together now the kids are back. One last summer before they fly the coop, right?’

Robert Gilbert glanced at Jennifer and she didn’t miss his look of disapproval. Oh God, she thought, feeling her heart hammer, knowing what was coming, knowing she needed a glass of that Cabernet Sauvignon that had just been brought out in a large, tempting carafe.

It was another hour before the subject was brought up, although she suspected that her mother, who had seated herself next to Robert during supper, had been discussing it with him throughout the meal. Every now and then Sylvia would glance across towards her daughter, her mouth disappearing into an even thinner and tighter line as she huddled back into her conversation.

‘Can we have a word, Jennifer?’ asked Robert as the supper dissolved into drinks and people stood up from the table.

Connor’s father was a tall man; in any circumstances he always seemed to be looking down at people, but Jennifer knew she was in for a telling-off.

‘I spoke to Lucian at the gallery this afternoon, after we heard that you’d come back to Savannah. He said it hadn’t worked out between you.’

The heat of the day had dissipated, but Jennifer felt suddenly warm.

‘It didn’t, no,’ she said, taking a fortifying swig of wine. If she was totally honest, she was surprised her resignation from her internship at one of the most prestigious galleries in New York, a position Robert had secured through his network of contacts, had taken so long to be made known.

‘So you just gave up,’ said Robert archly.

‘I didn’t think there was much point being there when I knew it wasn’t for me,’ she said honestly. ‘I knew there’d be a dozen girls desperate for the chance to work there and I was just taking up someone else’s place . . .’

It was another moment before she felt her mother at her side. She could feel the heat of Sylvia’s displeasure radiating off her.

‘Your father and I were under the impression that you were going back. We assumed you were home for just a couple of days.’

‘I was unhappy, Mother. I’m not sure New York is for me,’ she said simply.

‘I see,’ said Sylvia before exchanging a look with Robert.

‘I don’t want you to think me ungrateful. It was so kind of you to sort the internship out, and it was an amazing opportunity, but . . .’

He looked down at her, and Jennifer lost the ability to speak.

‘Life isn’t all about enjoying yourself,’ he said, shaking his head, then walked away to rejoin his wife, who glanced over at Jennifer, one hand holding a glass of wine, the other clutched to her chest.

Tags: Tasmina Perry Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net