The approval process took almost a month, but I received the final confirmation two weeks ago.
While part of me thrilled at landing such an exclusive venue, another part worried about what it would cost Dante. Not monetarily, but in terms of leverage and reciprocation.
“I’m sure Dante put in a good word for you.” Buffy smiled. “It pays to marry a Russo, doesn’t it?”
My own smile tightened. The dig was subtle, but it was there.
“Since we’re on the subject of the ball, I have a suggestion regarding the entertainment,” she said. “It’s a shame Corelli lost his voice and can no longer perform.”
The famous opera singer was on hiatus while his voice recovered.
The issue wasn’t as severe as the venue flooding, but it was yet another problem in the pile that was mounting daily.
Murphy’s Law of event planning—something always went wrong, and the more important the event, themorewent wrong.
“Don’t worry. I’ve already confirmed an alternative,” I said. “There’s a wonderful jazz singer who agreed to perform for half her regular rate considering the audience that’ll be in attendance.”
“How lovely,” Buffy said. “However, I was thinking we should book Veronica Foster instead.”
“Veronica Foster…the sugar heiress?”
“She’s transitioned into the music scene,” Buffy said smoothly. “I’m sure she would appreciate the opportunity to perform at the ball. As would I.”
Her pointed statement pierced my confusion.
I suddenly remembered the other reason why Veronica’s name sounded familiar. She was Buffy’s goddaughter.
“I’m happy to meet with her and review her tape if she has one.” I kept my tone measured despite the knots twisting my stomach. “However, I can’t guarantee a spot in the lineup. As you know, the schedule is tight, and I’ve already agreed to book the jazz singer.”
Buffy’s eyes cooled into blue ice. “I’m sure she’d understand if you had to cancel,” she said, her smile intact but sharper. More deadly. “This is an important event, Vivian. There’s a lot riding on it.”
Including your reputation and place in society.
The unspoken threat hung over the table like a guillotine.
Across from me, Isabella and Sloane watched the scene play out with wide eyes and icy fury, respectively. I could tell Sloane was holding back some choice epithets but, thankfully, she didn’t intervene.
She didn’t need to.
Between my parents’ visit, my argument with Dante, and headaches I’d encountered with the ball, I’d reached the end of my rope.
“Yes, there is,” I said in response to Buffy. Frost layered beneath my otherwise polite tone. “That’s why every detail must be flawless, including the performers. As the chair of the Legacy Ball committee, I’m sure you understand anything less than perfection on stage would not be ideal. I have full faith in Veronica’s commitment to her craft, which is why an audition shouldn’t be a problem. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The sounds from the restaurant became white noise as my heartbeat drummed in my ears.
I was taking a huge risk, insulting Buffy in front of other people, but I was sick of people trying to manipulate me into doing what they wanted.
She could blacklist me after the ball, but until then, it wasmyname on the invitations andmyprofessional reputation on the line. I’d be damned if I let anyone destroy what I’d worked years for in the name of poorly concealed nepotism.
Buffy stared at me.
In reality, the silence lasted less than a minute, but every second stretched for an eon until her initial shock melted into something more inscrutable.
“Yes,” she finally said. “I suppose you’re right.” Her voice was as cold as her eyes, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say it contained the tiniest hint of respect. “Enjoy the rest of your meal.”
She turned to leave, but before she did, she cast a last look at me. “And Vivian? I expect this to be thebestLegacy Ball in the event’s history.”
Buffy departed in a cloud of Chanel No. 5 and icy regality.