C21, PT. 4

“Dad was right about you,” Charlotte chortled. “You’re definitely an original. I hope you’re right about Dahlia. I could use some good news.” Charlotte straightened. “The reason I brought up your donation is that I was hoping you’d be interested in helping me at the Trentham Foundation. We have a ton of events throughout the year. You can see what suits you and your interests. You’d also meet the heads of other organizations, so you’re on a one-on-one basis with them.”

This is what many of the society wives did, but she hadn’t expected the invitation to come from Charlotte Trentham, or to be intrigued by the possibility of getting a behind-the-scenes look at one of the largest foundations in the country. If her investments paid off, and she was able to donate more in the future or start a foundation of her own, what Charlotte could teach her was invaluable… Also, through Charlotte, she could secure an invite to any event and get all the insider information Roth could want. That would ensure that he got his money’s worth out of her. It was a win-win.

“Yes, I’d love that,” she said.

Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “Excellent.”

Nathaniel rose. As if that were the cue everyone had been waiting for, they got to their feet and began to file out of the dining room. Servers immediately began to clear tables for the next round of guests to eat.

As Roth climbed to his feet, she stayed seated. He cupped her chin, forcing her face up. She accepted his kiss, but didn’t meet his eyes.

“I have to step out for a minute.” He focused on Charlotte, who was unabashedly watching their interaction. “Will you watch over my wife?”

“I don’t need a keeper,” she snapped.

“Yes, you do.” He looked up when Nathaniel called his name and nodded before he looked back at her. “I have business to see to. I shouldn’t be gone long. Stay out of trouble.”

With that, he strode toward the door, where Nathaniel, Mikhail, and three other men waited for him.

“Dad was right about you two,” Charlotte said, linking arms with her as they made their way out of the empty dining room.

“What did he say?” she asked a tad more sharply than she should have, but Charlotte didn’t seem to notice.

“He told Nathan and I that we would get along well with both of you. My dad has a second sense when it comes to people. My grandfather had it, too. Apparently, it’s skipped Nathan and I.”

As they exited the hallway and made their way back to the ballroom, Charlotte acknowledged those they passed with a nod or by lightly touching their shoulder or arm, but didn’t stop to engage anyone in conversation. When they entered the ballroom, Charlotte paused on the threshold.

“Is there anyone you’d like to be introduced to?”

Knowing what a boon that would be, she drew in a breath, but her mind was blank. “Um…”

The choice was taken from her when a former President of the United States approached. He and Charlotte were on a first name basis. She wasn’t sure whether she should excuse herself or…

“Have you met Jasmine Roth?” Charlotte asked.

“I haven’t.” He switched his attention to her and offered his hand. “I saw you dance with Sullivan. Are you up for another turn on the floor?” When she paled, he grinned. “It’s just as well. I think my wife would be jealous.”

“So would her husband,” Charlotte said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Ah, I see. From what I’ve heard, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.”

Her smile went a little wonky at hearing that, but it went unnoticed as he and Charlotte continued their conversation. When the President took his leave, he kissed her hand as Sullivan had.

Like Roth, Charlotte didn’t have to circulate. The crowd revolved around her. As one person after the next stepped forward, Charlotte effortlessly wove her into each interaction. Fifteen minutes at Charlotte’s side was more illuminating and instructive than if she’d gone to every party this year.

While Nathaniel handled the business and financial side, it seemed that Charlotte handled the social and political sphere and was damn good at it. Royals, Prime Ministers, and other dignitaries came forward to pay their respects. So did members of families from ancient bloodlines she thought were legend.

She had always admired her sisters in social and business settings, but Charlotte Trentham was next level. She had a pleasant expression on her face, but it wasn’t quite a smile. She didn’t hesitate to put anyone, male or female in their place. Watching Charlotte manage her guests was a master class in etiquette, the art of small talk, and networking.

She lost track of the number of people who requested to meet Roth. She tried to remember their names and faces so she could point him in their direction once he returned to the ballroom. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet these world powers. Thus far, he focused on business, but the political arena was just as important.

Several contacts who had been associated with her father came forward to speak with Charlotte. They ignored her, but Charlotte didn’t let them get away with it. She was positively gleeful when Charlotte introduced her, as if they hadn’t known her from the cradle. With Charlotte present, everyone was forced to be civil.

But just as it had with Colette, the lesson came to a halt far too soon.

“I’m sorry to leave you, but I have something to see to,” Charlotte said and squeezed Jasmine’s hand. “I’ll be in touch. We’ll do lunch and talk.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said honestly, and Charlotte smiled.

Jasmine chatted for a few more minutes with a former prime minster of Portugal and his wife. She gushed about their country and blinked when his wife extended an invitation to stay at their villa the next time she was in Lisbon.

“It was lovely meeting you. When my husband returns to the ballroom, I’ll introduce you,” she said.

“Please do.”

When they parted ways, she accepted a glass from a server. At her father’s functions, they weren’t allowed to drink alcohol, but as they were more than halfway through the night, she deserved a celebratory drink. Thanks to Charlotte, she could rattle off sixteen names off the top of her head that not even her father had been able to call on. If Roth needed anything politically in a dozen countries, she now had a name and, in some cases, even a phone number, since she’d been given quite a few business cards.

Confidence restored, she sipped champagne and scanned the crowd for Roth, Colette, Lyle, or any familiar face she could pass the time with. An hour or so from now, she’d be home, sinking into a bubble bath. She just had to get through the last of the festivities without making a scene.

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here.”

Her eyes fluttered shut. Damn. It was too much to hope for, thinking she could get through the night without facing her past. She turned to face Tucker Baldwin, who, under other circumstances, would have been her brother-in-law. “Hello to you, too.”

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

Copyright © 2024 Mia Knight. All Rights Reserved.