“It doesn’t diminish your achievements. It just opens the door. That’s how things work in the business world. You use the connections you have.”
Cecily resisted the urge to bang her head against her desk. “That’s not how I want to work. I’m doing this on my own.”
Her mother’s frustration was palpable in the silence on the other end of the phone. “So stubborn,” she said at last.
“I come by it honestly from both sides.”
“Via multiple generations,” her mother agreed. “Fine. But since you haven’t yet started a new position, you’re free to come home for the gala for the Alliance. We could use your professional expertise to get the word out to prospective donors, and it would be good for you to be seen.”
“I’m happy to help with the marketing from here, but coming home for the event is out of the question. Being seen is the last thing I want or need.” The very idea of facing the cameras and the microphones had a cold sweat breaking out down her back. “And I don’t appreciate Grandpa including me in that article in M & S. What if somebody dragged up everything that happened all over again? How would that publicity look when I’m trying to interview for things?”
“Cecily, we aren’t going to pretend like you don’t exist. You are a member of this family, and you’ve been hiding long enough.”
The ring of truth to the statement had her bristling. “I’m not hiding. I’ve been finishing
my Masters degree.”
“Which you’ve done with considerable accolades, and we’re proud of you. But you graduated in August at the top of your class. It’s halfway through October and you haven’t taken another job. You can’t tell me you haven’t had offers. Is there something else keeping you in Mississippi?”
An image of Reed flashed through her mind. But that was absolutely ridiculous. They weren’t together, hadn’t been in any kind of relationship. Ever. She wasn’t staying for him.
“I’m just…not finished here,” she said lamely. There was no way she could adequately explain that to anyone in her family.
A flash of movement in the doorway drew her attention. Norah paused, curled fist hovering over the door jamb. She mimed that she could come back later, but Cecily shook her head and waved her in.
“Listen, Mom, I have a meeting. I need to go. Send me the details on the gala, and I’ll work something up, okay? Love to Dad and everybody.”
Cecily ended the call a few shades too fast to be considered polite. Then she just laid her head down on her desk.
“That bad, huh?”
“They don’t understand why I’m still here. And I can’t explain it to them.”
Norah shut the door and dropped into the lone guest chair. “Is that because you don’t know the answer yourself or because you don’t think they’ll accept it?”
“Some of both. I feel caught between who I am and who they expect me to be. I know you understand that. You’ve lived it.”
“I have,” Norah agreed. “I absolutely know what it is to struggle under the burden of family expectation. And I know what it is to want to forge your own path, either in spite of those expectations or within the confines of them. Mine led me here. To Wishful. To Cam. My parents may not really understand why I do what I do, but I stopped living my life worrying about what they think.”
Cecily blew out a breath. “I am so not there yet.”
“Yeah, well, I just had my parents’ expectations. I imagine having an entire dynasty to live up to is rather a bigger burden.”
“That’s putting it mildly. Davenports are born for greatness. With a hefty dose of social and civic responsibility thrown in.”
“God save us both if my father ever hooks up with your granddaddy.”
They shared a mutual shudder.
“Still, in terms of the greatness department, I’d say you’ve done an admirable job. You’re the most talented graphic designer I’ve ever worked with. No frills, no fuss, just honest truth. I say that as your boss.”
“And as my friend?”
“I think greatness is in the eye of the beholder.” Norah crossed her legs and fixed those dark brown eyes on Cecily. “You said you weren’t finished here. What did you mean?”
“I’m pretty sure I could work with you for a decade and still learn something from you every day. I don’t think I’ll ever feel finished with that.”
“Much as it flatters me that you stayed to learn from me, you’re ready to move on and learn from someone else. But I don’t think this struggle is about the work. If it was, you’d have been gone by now. Either to one of your family’s companies or somewhere else. So what’s unfinished?”