Risk Taker by Sonia Stanizzo
Chapter 25
The doorman dressed in a black suit at the Ainsworth Hotel opened the glass door for Holly. She smiled her thanks and walked into the lobby.
They designed the hotels much the same all over the world. Black and white marble floors, huge crystal chandeliers and glass pendant lights hanging over the gold trimmed reception desk. Elaborate and fresh floral arrangements filled every corner of the room. The scent of exotic flowers floating through the air.
Holly made her way to the restaurant.
“I’m sorry Miss, I can’t let you into our dining room.” The stiff maître d stood in front of his podium looking down at Holly with flared nostrils like she stank. Or probably because she wore jeans and a t-shirt. Not the evening clothes required in the dining room. Already jittery from her run-in with Oliver, the last thing she needed to deal with was pompous restaurant staff.
God, how did she survive all those years living with people like him? “My parents are in there. They’re expecting me.”
One eyebrow rose in a perfect arc. She bet they were professionally threaded and tinted. “I highly doubt that.”
She hated playing the name card. It was times like these she had no other choice. “I’m Holly Ainsworth. I’m meeting my parents Richard and Penelope Ainsworth.”
This time he laughed. Not a normal open mouth kind of thing, but with a controlled tight lip. The sound, weird and annoying. She wanted to get dinner over with but this stuck-up jerk was stopping her.
Digging into her bag, she took out her wallet and pulled out her driver’s license, slapping it on the top of the podium. “Ainsworth.” She tapped a finger on the name on the plastic card so he wouldn’t miss anything.
The maître d’s face grew bright red. “Ms Ainsworth, I apologise for the misunderstanding. I didn’t know—”
“Just let me pass.” She couldn’t stand listening to his blubbering apology. “My father will hear about this.” Then she watched his face drain of colour until she thought he’d faint. Two minutes back in this world and she was acting like a rich bitch. She wanted to kick her own arse. “Forget I said that… your job’s safe.”
“Thank you, Ms Ainsworth. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
“Can you let me pass?” she asked.
“Oh yes, certainly.” He waved his arm and bowed so low like she was royalty.
Once inside the dining room, it didn’t take long to spot her parents. A swarm of waiters surrounded their table ready to kiss their feet. Holly rolled her eyes and nerves flicked in her belly as she approached. This was the first time she’d seen them in nearly six months.
“Hi Dad. Mum,” she greeted them with what she hoped was a friendly smile.
“Holly, honey. It’s good to see you.” Her father rose and gave her a warm hug. Surprised by the show of affection, she stood still for a beat. Then wrapped her arms around his waist. She breathed in the familiar scent of his sandalwood cologne; she’d missed him. Pulling back, she took him in. His thick salt and pepper hair was receding and he wore frameless glasses—a few more lines creased the side of his eyes. The charcoal grey Armani suit fit perfectly on his tall solid frame. In his sixties, her father was still an attractive man.
Stepping away from her father, she turned to her mother who remained seated. Her sharp white bob framed her flawless smooth complexion. Light brown eyes, much like her own showed no softness or pleasure in seeing her daughter after so long. She sat ramrod straight in her chair no doubt so she wouldn’t crease the cream Chanel jacket she wore over a pale pink dress. A string of pearls hung around her neck. Holly leaned down and kissed her on her powdered cheek. Then her mother gave her a thorough examination from her head to her black boot covered toes. You didn’t turn up to an Ainsworth dinner dressed in ripped jeans and denim jacket. Her mother’s nostrils flared just like the maître d’s. Holly was tempted to sniff under her armpits in case she really did smell.
“What on earth are you wearing? I’m surprised Leonardo let you in here.” She searched the front of the restaurant for the maître d like she wanted to chastise him.
“Good to see you too, Mother. And Leonardo did his best to send me away.”
The poor man was probably lying down somewhere after the shock she’d given him.
Before her mother could complain further, three waiters wearing starched white shirts, cotton gloves, and black trousers—the creases down the centre of their pants sharp enough to cut someone—placed massive silver plates in front of them. Four prawns drizzled with salmon roe sat on a bed of green leaves and decorated with edible flowers. Holly could’ve done with a meat pie or toasted sandwich. It would be more filling and tastier. Did Ethan enjoy this more? Had he finally seen how good normal food was? Or did he only pretend to like it to make her happy?
It took all of three seconds to eat the tiny meal. She passed on the edible flowers. The waiters materialised from thin air to remove their plates. Did they really need a waiter for each person?
Her mother dabbed the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin then placed it on her lap. “Holly, it’s time you came home.”
Holly sighed. For once it would’ve been nice for her mother to inquire about her wellbeing. Ask if she enjoyed living in Sydney or maybe even tell her she was missed her. Normal conversation between mother and daughter.
Because Holly knew her mother so well, that would never happen. And she knew this wasn’t just a visit while they were in town. They’d come to Sydney for one reason, to bring Holly home.
“Did you get my email about me wanting to stay here for another twelve months?”
The waiters placed another course before them. Quail with shitake mushrooms and a dab of polenta. Not much bigger than the last meal. Luckily, Holly had lost her appetite the second she’d entered the dining room.
“We’ve let you get this nonsense out of your system long enough. You need to be where you belong, working for the company,” her mother said.
“Not back home with my family?” Holly asked with a sarcastic sweet tone.
“Well… yes, of course.” Holly could tell that had never entered her mother’s mind.
God, her mom was cold and unfeeling. In the nearly two weeks Holly had spent with Nancy, Holly saw how she loved her family and had some of that warmth aimed at her—a stranger who’d walked in off the streets.
“We gave you time off to get yourself together. By the way you’re dressed in rags, it hasn’t happened. Times up.”
“What do you mean, times up? Are you not even going to consider my idea?” She looked at her father for an explanation. He was signalling for a drink.
Her father wasn’t often home when they were growing up, but when he was, she remembered times when he’d give her and Ruth lots of his attention. Sometimes he’d come into their rooms and sit on the floor dressed in a suit much like the one he was wearing and play dolls with them. That was until their mother kept telling him he was too busy to waste his time with silly games with the girls. That’s what the nannies were for. Holly guessed he must have eventually lost interest because he stopped playing with them or gave into his wife’s demands. Probably the latter. Although her father owned and ran an international chain of hotels, it was his wife who controlled him.
“You’re an Ainsworth and part of the company and family. There’s no time for anything else. You need to stop being an embarrassment to yourself and to us and join the business where you belong. There’s nothing for you here in Sydney. If you thought you could make it without our influence, you failed.”
Holly stiffened, her heart rate picking up speed. “I have not failed.”
“Oh?” Her mother’s eyes widened with mock interest. “Please share how successful you are.”
“I got a job doing makeup on a major movie set.” And got fired, but she didn’t need to share that part.
This earned her an eye roll. “You and your makeup. We’re offering you a career not a hobby.” She took a dainty sip of Dom Perignon, her white gold, diamond tennis bracelet sparkling under the crystal chandelier.
Holly was tired of trying to tell her mother differently. This was something they’d never see eye-to-eye on.
“A job working with Oliver. Can’t you understand how hard that is for me?”
Her mother shifted in her chair and fingered the pearls around her neck and her cheeks flushed pink. “Oliver has left the company.”
“What? You let the son you always wanted walk away?”
Her father coughed into his hand then said, “We asked him to leave.”
“As in fired? Why?” Her mouth fell open. What had she missed these past five months?
“To be perfectly honest, well,” her mother lowered her voice, “we caught him embezzling money. He stole millions to fund his gambling addiction and… other things.” Holly could only imagine what the other things were.
“Why haven’t I heard anything about this? I would’ve seen something on the news. Has he been charged?”
Her mother lifted her chin. “Because of our relationship with his family, we haven’t pressed charges. It would dirty their name if it was made public and we don’t need that kind of negative publicity.”
Now it all made sense. Oliver’s dishevelled appearance, how desperate he was to get back together after no contact for months. He’d lost his job and a shitload of money with it. And he wanted Holly to take him back so he could cement himself into the family name and money again. She kind of felt a little sad for him. The feeling past in under a second.
Holly rested back in her chair and laughed.
“I hardly think this is a laughing matter.” Her mother’s gaze narrowed and was razor sharp. “He could have ruined us.”
“Maybe if you’d listened to your daughter and believed me when I told you he couldn’t be trusted you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Pfft.” Her mother waved the comment away. “He only cheated on you. We didn’t judge his character on that.” And ignored her suspicions that he was stealing money.
Even after all these months, their lack of support was still a jab to the heart with a blunt object. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes but there was no way in hell she’d let them fall.
“Well, however you judged his character, he’s now bit you on the arse,” Holly snapped unable to hold back the anger.
Her mother gasped. “Holly, our company took a huge hit. You could show some compassion.”
Oh, that was rich. Show them compassion? When they never considered or cared about Holly’s feelings. There was no point rehashing the past, her mother only saw whatever she wanted. Holly would never be good enough unless she dressed appropriately, acted in a manner her mother approved, married the right man in the right social circles—their social circles and worked in the family business.
She was only good enough if she followed their rules.
She folded her hands on the table. “Well, I’m not interested in coming back to the business.”
She swallowed the rest of her wine. Before she got the chance to flee, her mother said, “You have a responsibility to the family’s company name. You will take the position—or else.”
Holly wanted to scream with frustration but held it together, surprised at how calm her voice sounded when she said, “Or else what?”
“Your father and I have agreed that if you can’t respect us and our wishes, you’ll be disinherited. The stocks in the company. The money. You will not get a cent.” Her mother’s chin lifted and Holly could have sworn for a second, a tiny smile tugged at her lips. Did she get enjoyment in trying to control her daughter’s life?
Holly swung her head to stare at her father, his attention was in the bottom of his wine glass. “Is that true? You’ll go through with it, if I don’t work for the company?”
“Yes, we will,” her mother answered for him. “It’s a requirement for you to receive your share.”
“And you can’t change that? Or you don’t want to?”
“It won’t be changed.”
Her father coughed in his hand again obviously uncomfortable with the conversation.
Through this painful exchange, her father kept quiet. It wasn’t both of them telling her what to do. Her mother ruled the company and the family. He didn’t get a say or speak up to defend his daughter. Disappointment washed over her.
“Well, I hope Ruth and all your dogs enjoy your money.” She took the napkin off her lap and slapped it on the table.
Her mother’s chuckle was sharp. “You rely on our money too much to refuse.”
“Maybe I did once. Not anymore.”
“Your makeup job won’t support you,” she scoffed.
“You’re right, it won’t because I got fired. I’m now working part-time in a café, renting a one room, shabby apartment and I’ve never been happier.”
Her mother’s mouth dropped open then her lips slammed into a thin line. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am. I only wish I’d left for Sydney sooner.” She rose. “Thanks for dinner.”
“You won’t walk away from millions of dollars,” her mother spat.
“Watch me.” And she sailed out of the room with her head held high, feeling free for the first time in her life.