“Oh, what a shame. I hope it’s not too serious,” Meredith said.
“I don’t have any other details,” Daphne said, then paused. “I was going to ask one of you to step in as cochair, but Amber has graciously offered to do it.”
Meredith looked at her, then at Daphne. “Um, that’s very generous, but do you think that’s really wise? No offense intended, but Amber just joined us. It’s a lot to get up to speed on. I’d be happy to do it.”
“The main thing left is to handle the silent auction, and Amber has experience with it,” Daphne replied in a nonchalant tone. “Plus, Amber has a very personal stake; she wants to honor her sister as well. I’m sure she would welcome your help and that of everyone on the committee.”
Amber turned her gaze from Daphne to Meredith. “I would be so appreciative of any advice you’re willing to give. Once I’ve assessed where we are, I can divvy up some assignments.” The thought of having that rich bitch reporting to her made her flush with pleasure. She didn’t miss the look of irritation on Meredith’s face and struggled to hide a smirk.
Meredith cocked an eyebrow. “Of course. We’re all happy to do our part. Bunny had planned on laying out all the items in her house and having a few of us come and help with the bid sheets and descriptions. Should we plan on coming to your house, Amber?”
Before Amber could respond, Daphne dove in to rescue her. “The items are already here. I sent for them yesterday afternoon. No sense in moving them again.”
Amber fixed her eyes on Meredith as she spoke. “I’m planning on automating the forms anyhow. It will be much more efficient for me to e-mail them to each of you with a picture of the item, and you can fill out the descriptions and send them back. Then I can have them printed and set them with the items. I’ll send everyone an e-mail tonight with the groupings, and you can let me know which you’ll write up. No need to waste time all sitting around together.”
“That’s a great idea, Amber. See, ladies? Nice to have some new blood.”
Amber leaned back into her armchair and smiled. She felt Meredith’s appraising eyes on her, and noticed once again how everything about her screamed old money, from her double strand of pearls to the slightly worn camel jacket. Minimal makeup, no particular style to her hair, quiet wristwatch and earrings. Her wedding ring, a band of sapphires and diamonds, looked like a family heirloom. Nothing ostentatious about this woman except the distinct aura of Mayflower lineage and trust funds. Her arrogance reminded Amber of Mrs. Lockwood, the richest woman in the town where she grew up, who would bring her cashmere sweaters, wool suits, and formal gowns into the dry cleaner’s every Monday morning, putting them gingerly on the counter as if she couldn’t bear for her sacred garments to touch the clothes of the underclass. She never greeted Amber and never responded to a hello with anything but a forced, sour smile that looked as if she’d smelled something rotten.
The Lockwood family lived in a huge home at the top of a hill overlooking the town. Amber had met Frances, their only daughter, at a county fair, and the two had become fast friends. The first time Frances took Amber to her home, Amber had been awestruck at its size and magnificent furnishings. Frances’s bedroom was a young girl’s dream, all pink and white and frilly. Her dolls—so many!—were lined up neatly on built-in shelves, and on one long wall stood a case filled with books and trophies. Amber remembered feeling like she never wanted to leave that bedroom. But the friendship had been short-lived. After all, Amber was not the sort Mrs. Lockwood wanted as a friend for her precious daughter. As quickly as the two girls had connected, the cord was severed by Frances’s imperious mother. It had stuck in Amber’s craw ever since, but she’d found a way to get even when she met Matthew, Frances’s handsome older brother. Mrs. Lockwood hadn’t known what hit her.
And now, here she was, confronting the same condescension from Meredith Stanton. So far, though, it was Amber one, Meredith nothing.
“Amber.” Daphne’s voice startled her from her reverie. “I’d like to get a picture for a little advance publicity. Let’s have you and the rest of the auction committee with some of the items. I’m sure the Harbor Times will publish it with a blurb about the fundraiser.”
Amber couldn’t move. A picture? For the newspaper? She couldn’t let that happen. She had to think quickly. “Um.” She paused a moment. “Gee, Daphne, I’m so new to the group. I don’t think it’s fair for me to be in the photo. It should include members who have worked on this longer than I have.”
“That’s very gracious of you, but you are the cochair now,” Daphne said.
“I’d really feel more comfortable if other people’s accomplishments were highlighted.” Looking around, Amber realized she’d scored points for humility. It was a win-win. She could maintain the rank of poor but sweet and unassuming little waif to these privileged snobs. And most importantly, no ghosts from the past would come sniffing around. She just needed to keep a low profile for now.
Eleven
The next morning Jenna came dancing into Amber’s office, her smile so wide that her cheeks practically obscured her squinty little eyes. “Guess what?” she demanded breathlessly.
“No clue,” Amber said flatly, not even bothering to look up from the commission reports she was working on.
“I talked to Sally last night.”
Amber’s head shot up, and she put her pen down.
“She said she’d like to come to dinner with us. Tonight.”
“That’s great, Jenna.” For the first time, Amber was thankful for Jenna’s doggedness. She had pestered Amber from her first day on the job, and every time Amber refused her invitations, she had bounced back up like a Punchinello toy and asked her again, until finally Amber relented. Jenna had gotten what she wanted, and now it was all about to pay off for Amber too.
“What time, and do we have a place in mind?”
“Well, we could do Friendly’s. Or Red Lobster. Tonight they’re having all the shrimp you can eat.”
Amber pictured Jenna sitting across from her, cocktail sauce dripping down her chin as she devoured all those little pink shrimp. She didn’t think she could stomach that. “Let’s go to the Main Street Grille,” she said. “I’m free right after work.”
“Okay. I’ll tell Sally to meet us around five thirty. This is going to be so much fun,” Jenna squealed, clapping her hands together and prancing out of the office.
When Amber and Jenna arrived at the Grille, they were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant, with Jenna facing the door so she would see Sally when she arrived. Jenna began yammering away about a new client who had come in today looking for properties in the $5 million range and how nice and friendly she was, then suddenly stopped and waved her hand. “Here’s Sally,” she said and stood up.
As Sally approached the table, Amber knew her surprise registered on her face. This woman was not at all what she’d expected.
“Hi, Jenna.” The newcomer gave Jenna a hug and then turned to Amber. “You must be Amber, the one Jenna is always talking about.” She smiled, reached a slender arm across the table, and shook Amber’s hand. Sally wore fitted jeans and a long-sleeved white T-shirt that showed off her trim figure, tanned skin, and luxuriant brown hair. As she took the seat next to Jenna, Amber was struck by her eyes, so dark they were almost black, with thick, long eyelashes.