Three hours later, Lin returned to her room to dress for the banquet. The hairstylist had talked her into a pedicure and a facial. After an afternoon of being catered to, she felt like royalty. Of course, it all came at a price, one so high she didn’t dare give it another thought, or she’d have such a case of the guilts that she’d ruin the evening for herself and Will. No, she reminded herself again, this was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. As she had explained to Will, it wasn’t every day that he went away to college. Besides, she wanted to look her best at the banquet, knowing there would be many well-to-do parents attending with their children. No way did she want to cause Will any embarrassment just because she was a small-town hick who ran a diner. Her accomplishments might mean something in Dalton, but here in New York City she would just be seen as a country bumpkin trying to keep up with the big-city folk, even though her net worth these days could probably match that of many of New York’s movers and shakers.

Discarding her self-doubts, Lin took her dress out of its garment bag. She’d ordered it from a Macy’s catalog four months ago. She slid the black, long-sleeved silk dress over her head, allowing it to swathe her slender body. Lin looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. With all the skipped meals and extra work at the diner, she’d lost weight since purchasing the dress. The curve-hugging dress emphasized her tiny waist. She twirled around in front of the mirror. Not bad for an old woman, she thought.

“Shoot, I’m not that old.” She cast another look in the mirror and slipped her feet into her ruby red slingbacks she’d been dying to wear since she’d purchased them two years ago. Lin remembered buying them on a trip to Atlanta as a prize to celebrate her first million. On paper, of course, but still it was monumental to her, since she’d clawed her way to the top. It hadn’t been all rainbows and lollipops, either.

Clipping on the garnet earrings Sally and Irma had given her for her thirtieth birthday, she returned to the mirror for one last look before heading downstairs.

Five-foot-three, maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, Lin scrutinized her image. The stylist had flat-ironed her long blond hair, assuring her that it was the current style, and, no, she was not too old to wear her hair down. Her face had a rosy glow courtesy of Lancôme and a facial. The manicurist had given her a French manicure, telling her it, too, was “in vogue.” After leaving the spa, she returned to her room with a few makeup tricks under her belt. Plus, her hairstylist had sashayed back and forth, showing her the fashionable way to strut her stuff so that she’d be noticed when making an entrance. While that was the last thing on her mind, she’d had a blast with the women, more than she cared to admit. Lin had confessed that she hadn’t had time for such things as a girl, but she hadn’t explained why.