“TMG sent me the final invoice for Douglas’s party. It’s a second notice and R…they said they tried to send it to you, but you haven’t paid it,” Jill said, placing the sheet of paper on the table to the side of her mother’s chair.

“Yes, of course. I will pay it tomorrow. Now, join me in a drink.”

“I’d rather not. I need to head back home.”

“Get yourself a drink and sit with me,” her mother stated firmly.

Holding back a groan, Jill poured herself a small amount of whiskey. She sat in the chair next to her mother and took a sip. Her mother’s gaze flicked to the invoice and then landed on Jill.

“How is your little girlfriend?”

Jill clenched her jaw and leaned forward. “First of all, she’s not my little anything. She is a grown, well-respected, and highly successful woman. I still cannot believe the vitriol you threw at her the night of the party. She had been nothing but nice to you and accommodated all of your crazy requirements for that fucking party. You looked at her like she was trash. Second—”

“You remind me of your father.”

“Stepfather, for the last fucking time. And I am nothing like him. If you keep saying shit like that, I’m leaving.” She started to rise.

“I meant your real father.” Her mother drank the rest of her whiskey and held the empty glass in her hands, staring at it as if she didn’t know what it was.

“What?” Jill whispered.

“You have that fire in your eyes. The unwavering conviction in your voice. I’ve seen it before in regards to your work. But this…” She gestured up and down. “…this is the first time I’m seeing it when you’re fighting for someone you love.”

“I don’t—”

“You do love her. I can tell.”

“How?”

“You looked at her the way Greg used to look at me. And I used to look at him.”

“Greg.” Jill’s bravado faded and she slumped back in her chair. “That was his name?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never told me that before,” Jill whispered. “Why? Why couldn’t you have told me about him more?”

“It was agreed upon.” Her mother looked away, ashamed. “In the contract.”

“The fucking contract. You signed away my right to have a proper family. How could you? Did you know that I still remember every second of that day I found out? I can still hear the indifference in your voice as you laid out everything as if it were all a neat little package. You hurt me and I was just a kid. And for what? You didn’t want to lose access to the family money, is that it?”

“Your grandfather—”