“Mom mentioned you have your own marketing firm.”
“That’s right. We specialize in crisis management and reputation recovery.
It’s amazing how quickly a solid reputation can be destroyed and how much work it takes to rebuild trust once it’s broken.”
Liam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but Helen pressed on. “Lily works in real estate. She’s already one of the top agents in her firm.”
“Real estate can be such a relationship-based business,” I observed.
“Trust is everything, isn’t it? Clients need to know their agent has their best interests at heart, not some hidden agenda.”
The conversation continued through the main course with Helen becoming increasingly bold in her praise of Lily and increasingly pointed in her comments about young people finding their true paths and life taking unexpected turns. During the Beef Wellington course, I noticed Lily stealing glances at Liam when she thought no one was looking.
There was genuine affection in her eyes, which almost made me feel sorry for her. She had no idea she was being used as a pawn in Helen’s chess game just as much as I was. “Lily, tell us about your family,” Helen prompted, clearly steering toward another rehearsed talking point.
“I understand your father is in finance as well.”
“Yes, he’s a portfolio manager in Boston,” Lily replied, unconsciously straightening her posture. “He actually went to Harvard Business School, too, about 20 years before Liam did.”
“How wonderful,” Helen exclaimed as if this was the most delightful coincidence in the world. “Liam, didn’t you say you were thinking about expanding the firm’s investment services?”
Liam nodded, playing his part perfectly.
“We’ve been considering it. It would be helpful to have someone with that kind of background on the team.”
I watched this performance with growing fascination. They clearly planned this conversation, probably rehearsed it multiple times.
Helen was systematically establishing Lily’s credentials, her family connections, her potential value to the Turner family business. It was like watching a job interview disguised as small talk. “And Lily, you mentioned you’re originally from Connecticut?” George asked, seemingly oblivious to his wife’s machinations.
“That’s right, Greenwich. My family has a place on the water there. Nothing too fancy, just a little cottage we’ve had for generations.”
I nearly choked on my wine.
A little cottage in Greenwich that had been in the family for generations probably cost more than most people’s houses. Helen’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning. She found herself a daughter-in-law with both money and pedigree.
“How lovely,” I interjected smoothly. “Greenwich is beautiful. Liam and I looked at properties there when we first got married, but we decided we preferred being closer to the city for work purposes.”
It was a subtle reminder that Liam and I had made joint decisions about our life together.
But I could see Helen filing it away as evidence of my practical, unromantic nature. “Emily’s always been very focused on convenience over beauty,” Helen said with a tight smile. “It’s admirable really how dedicated she is to her work.”
The backhanded compliment hung in the air like smoke.
Several people around the table shifted uncomfortably, recognizing the subtle dig, even if they weren’t sure how to respond to it. “I’ve always believed that loving what you do makes you better at everything else in life,” I replied evenly. “When you’re fulfilled professionally, you have more energy and enthusiasm to bring to your personal relationships.”
Lily smiled genuinely at this.
“I completely agree. I love real estate because I get to help people find their dream homes. There’s something so satisfying about matching the right person with the right property.”
“How do you determine what makes a property right for someone?” Liam asked, and I could hear the flirtation in his voice, even if others might have missed it.
“Well,” Lily said, warming to the topic, “you have to really listen to what they’re saying, and what they’re not saying. Sometimes people think they want one thing, but what they really need is something completely different.”
The irony was so thick, I could have cut it with my dessert fork. Lily was unknowingly describing exactly what Helen had done to her, convinced her she wanted Liam when what she really needed was to run as far away from this family as possible.
“That sounds like quite a skill,” Rachel commented. “I imagine you have to be very perceptive about people’s motivations.”
“You do,” Lily agreed. “Unfortunately, not everyone is honest about what they want or what their situation really is.
I’ve had clients lie about their budget, their timeline, even their relationship status. It makes the job much more challenging.”
Liam went very still at this comment, and I saw Helen’s jaw tighten almost imperceptibly. Lily had just unknowingly described her own situation perfectly.
She was being lied to about Liam’s relationship status, his timeline, and his true motivations. “Honesty is so important in any relationship,” I said, looking directly at Lily, “professional or personal. Once trust is broken, it’s almost impossible to rebuild.”
“Absolutely,” Lily said earnestly.
“I always tell my clients that we can work through almost any challenge as long as we’re honest with each other from the start.”
The conversation was becoming almost surreal. Lily kept making points that undermined her own position without realizing it. While Liam grew more and more uncomfortable, and Helen worked harder to steer things back to safer topics.
“Lily, you must tell us about that lovely property you sold last month,” Helen interjected quickly. “The one with the gorgeous gardens.”
But before Lily could answer, Uncle Jack, who’d been quietly working his way through his third glass of wine, spoke up. “You know, this whole conversation reminds me of when I was in real estate years ago.
Had this client once who was married, but told everyone he was single. Caused quite a mess when the truth came out.”
The table fell silent except for the soft clink of silverware against china. Jack, bless his heart, continued obliviously.
“Fellow thought he was being clever, keeping his wife in the dark while he shopped for a love nest with his girlfriend. But the girlfriend found out about the wife. The wife found out about the girlfriend and both women ended up owning pieces of him in the divorce settlement.”
Helen, clearly embarrassed, said sharply, “Perhaps we should discuss something more pleasant.”
“Oh, it turned out quite pleasant in the end,” Jack continued cheerfully.
“The wife took him for everything he was worth. The girlfriend realized she’d dodged a bullet, and both women ended up much happier without him. Funny how these things work out sometimes.”
I raised my wine glass slightly in Jack’s direction.
“To justice being served,” I said quietly, but not so quietly that the table couldn’t hear me. Lily was looking increasingly uncomfortable, though I wasn’t sure if she understood why Jack’s story was relevant. Liam, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.
“Well,” Helen said brightly, clearly desperate to change the subject, “shall we move on to dessert? I made my famous chocolate tort.”
As Helen bustled around serving dessert, I caught Karen, the cousin’s wife beside me, giving me a meaningful look. She leaned over and whispered, “Are you okay, honey?
You seem a little tense tonight.”
I smiled at her gratefully. Karen had always been observant and kind, never part of Helen’s inner circle, but always trying to smooth over family tensions. “I’m fine,” I whispered back, “just enjoying the family dynamics.”
Karen studied my face for a moment, then glanced around the table.
I could see understanding dawning in her eyes as she took in Helen’s obvious matchmaking efforts, Liam’s discomfort, and Lily’s innocent participation in what was clearly a setup. “Oh my,” Karen breathed quietly. “Emily, do you need?”
“I’ve got it handled,” I assured her softly.
“But thank you.”
Karen squeezed my hand under the table, and I felt a surge of gratitude for her kindness. It reminded me that not everyone in this family was complicit in Helen’s schemes. The chocolate tort was admittedly delicious.
Helen might be a master manipulator, but she was also an excellent cook. I found myself savoring each bite, knowing it would likely be the last time I’d taste her famous dessert. “This is incredible, Mrs.
Turner,” Lily said enthusiastically. “Would you be willing to share the recipe?”
“Oh, it’s a family recipe,” Helen replied with false modesty. “I only share it with family members.”
The implication was clear.
Once Lily married Liam and I was out of the picture, she’d be worthy of the precious tort recipe. It was such a petty little power play, but it perfectly encapsulated everything that was wrong with Helen’s worldview. “That’s a shame,” I said conversationally.
“I’ve been asking for that recipe for 8 years. I guess I never quite made it into the
