Prologue
Gemma
“You didwhat?”
I wince at my mother’s screech. This is the confrontation I’ve been dreading.
I left my job at Abraham’s, the high-end jeweler, and after four years of hard graft, I’ve finally made it. And I’ve accomplished everything without my parents' financial help or emotional support.
College degree? Check.
Apprenticeship with an industry giant? Been there, done that. Okay, it wasn’t a brilliant success, but I’m damn proud of myself for getting through it and seeing out my notice period.
I took what I learned from that experience and poured my heart and soul into launching my business. I’ve plowed all my free time into making my bespoke jewelry and spent the last year turningHeart of Goldinto a successful online business while holding down a full-time job.
And now that I’ve cemented my position as an independent artist, I’m opening my first brick-and-mortar shop in my hometown of Garland, Colorado, in time for those Valentine’s Day sales.
Trouble is, I didn’t tell my parents what I was doing—until now.
They’ve never shown any interest in my chosen occupation, and I knew things would go downhill fast once they discovered I’d sunk the remainder of my trust fund into my business venture.
I was right.
My mouth is dry as I look at my mother. She’s as perfectly put together as always. Her blonde hair is perfectly coiffed, her makeup subtle yet flattering, and she looks casually elegant in her “loungewear.”
She’s my polar opposite. Sometimes it’s hard to believe we’re mother and daughter.
Physically, I favor my father, having inherited his hazel eyes, thicker build, and coloring. As usual, he stands behind my mother, always in her shadow. He likes a quiet life and does precisely what his wife says in order to have one.
It never ceases to amaze me that my brother, Callum, and I have turned out as well-balanced as we are. Our grandparents have a lot to do with it. They thought they were destined never to have children until Grams fell pregnant with my mother in her mid-forties.
Being older grandparents, Callum and I didn’t have them for long, but we spent some of our formative years with them before we lost Gramps to a heart attack. Grams followed less than a month later, and I’ve always been convinced she died of a brokenheart. They were together for more than fifty years and doted on each other.
When they died, everything changed.
My mother inherited my gramps’ business, and my father quit his job as a salesman to help her run it. She went from a stay-at-home mom who baked, played, and helped us with our homework to the owner of Bridge Financial Services with no time for her kids. The country club, huge house, and materialistic trappings came next. She had everything she wanted except for one thing—neither of her children wanted to step into the family business.
Newsflash. You don’t always get what you want in this life, but Megan Stone never got the memo.
Guilt hits me. I’ve lied to my parents by omission, but I wanted to get everything finalized before I faced their criticisms. Their disappointment in me is nothing new—it’s ingrained in every decision I’ve ever made.
The sad reality is I have more chance of catching a fart in a sieve than convincing my parents my business venture is sound.
But I couldn’t keep living a lie. It wasn’t fair to my parents or me. And it certainly wasn’t fair to Callum, who I swore to secrecy.
Callum is the golden boy who can do no wrong. I’ve never matched up to him in my parent's eyes. He’s handsome, strong, and a genuinely good person. The star student with a promising career as a professional football player until the night when …
I push the memories to one side. The pain and guilt still cut deeply. Callum and I are close despite my parent’s favoritism. No matter what, Callum has always been my biggest supporter,and I needed to share my news about the shop with at least one family member who was as excited as me.
So, today was the day to announce my new venture to my parents. My father will come around in time, but my mother will be more of a challenge. I swear she’d rather staple her tongue to a moving train than have me open a small-town jewelry store—not impressive or ambitious enough for the daughter of Leonard and Megan Stone.
My father reacts to my news with his usual impatient huff and a disapproving shake of his head.
But my mother isn’t shy in expressing her disdain. “How could you do this without telling us? How could you waste your trust fund on some trinket shop? Your grandparents would be turning in their graves, Gemma.”
I bite my tongue. “It’s not a trinket shop. It’s a boutique to showcase my jewelry. Gramps and Grams didn’t put a single stipulation on how Callum and I used our trust fund. In fact, I think they’d be proud. I’m almost twenty-three, dammit. I’m an independent woman, and I’ve worked my ass off to achieve my dream.”
“Don’t curse in this house, young lady.” My mother’s mouth is tight with displeasure as she sits on the plush sofa worth more than I earn in six months. “You must find a way out of whatever agreement you’ve signed with this woman.”