Dear Readers: In case anyone's looking for someone to hate in this series... please meet the lovely and lovable (*cough*) Mrs. Katherine Weaver!

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Scene 2: Looks

A.D. 2015

This was not the life she wanted.

It was what her mother wanted for her, expected of her. Just as Dan had said. She wanted nothing to do with damned Sterling, its hallowed halls lined with portraits of stodgy old men, who would always be watching her, reminding her that she did not belong.

“So you’ve heard nothing from law schools? Since the Veriton rejection weeks ago?”

Lacey wagged her head. “Nothing since.”

Katherine Weaver frowned, forming a million new wrinkles. Patted her daughter’s shoulder with an ice-cold hand, a motion that was anything but motherly. “Well. I’ll make some calls.”

“Mother…”

Katherine had already started moving away, about to weave gracefully through the crowd of socialites. Had already taken out her state-of-the-art cell phone, most of its functions too high-tech for her to follow. But she had to keep up with all of the updates, so as to seem savvy; the phone was more a social statement than a personal device. She only ever used the thing to call up her high-society connections.

Her immaculate-cuticled fingers were poised on the keypad as she turned to face her daughter, brows arching high up into her forehead. Forming new wrinkles again. Expecting nothing short of a prizewinning speech from Lacey’s parted lips—the only thing worth stopping in her tracks, for so much as a second.

Lacey swallowed. But she did not swallow her words. Something about what had happened today impelled her to speak up, for once. As if Dan’s voice were speaking through hers. “…please don’t.”

Katherine’s brows soared up toward her hairline. “Pardon?”

“You’ve… made so many calls already,” Lacey stammered. “I just don’t think it’s worth it.”

“Ha,” her mother responded. Even her laughter sounded plastic. “It’s always worth it, Lacey. Don’t be silly just because you’re scared.”

“I’m not—”

“Isn’t that it? You’re scared that it won’t work this time. That you will fail. But have you ever failed?”

Lacey held her tongue against harsh memories of fashion school rejections. Her hardest failures had been in pursuit of her own dreams, which she seldom ever pursued. That hurt, a lot, especially since she had to hide the pain—the symptoms as well as the source. From everyone but Dan. The friend she may have lost today.

“The calls are always worth it, because they always work,” Katherine persisted. “The world runs on connections, Lacey. You should know by now; they’ve brought you all of your success.”

Lacey winced inside. She had to hide that, too, of course. But she’d had quite a bit of practice hiding winces, in her life.

“Well—that, and this famous face,” her mother added, touching her icy palm to the Barbie doll’s cheek, then gesturing down toward her dress, “and your fabulous figure. Oh, have you eaten yet today?”

Lacey nodded weakly. “A little.”

“That’s good. Hopefully as little as you should. Remember, don’t start letting go now that you’ve lost your job—there are always other reasons to look perfect.”

Lacey did not need to be reminded. But she wanted to remind her mother of something else. “The connections did fail, at least in one thing,” she blurted. “They couldn’t get me into an Ivy undergrad.”

Katherine waved her free hand dismissively in the air, as if conducting the world’s most frivolous symphony. “That doesn’t count as a failed attempt, because we all knew that you never had a shot. It was worth trying just in case. But no one could fudge a way around your atrocious test scores.”

Lacey took the daggers in stride; she had dealt with far worse. “And what makes Sterling any different?” she objected. “It’s so much harder to get in, and my LSAT score makes me a lost cause, doesn’t it? Isn’t this test even more important for admissions?”

“Stop with these questions and compose yourself,” Katherine snapped under her breath, darting a nervous glance around the crowded room. “We’re starting to get looks.”

She had uttered that last word like a profanity. Few things horrified Katherine Weaver more than looks from important people, especially her own guests. Looks of judgment, ridicule, or—heaven forbid—condescension.

“Of course Sterling Law is elusive,” she quietly admitted. “But connections are even more crucial and powerful in the field of law, and for this school in particular. Why do you think it’s so elite?”

Because people like you feed into, and feed off of, the culture of elitism, Lacey silently replied. She was taken aback at the newfound rebellious voice in her head. It scared her, so she shut it up.

“Besides, we are very well-connected now—more so than when you were entering college,” Katherine pointed out, returning her attentions to her fancy phone. “Four years can do wonders in the way of networks.”

It was true. Four years, or even just four minutes, could also do wonders in the way of family tension and resentment, Lacey mused. Especially chez Weaver.

“Now, if only your father would put his voice behind the calls…” Katherine mumbled, scrolling through her countless contacts, “…our chances would be so much higher…”

“And Lacey’s prospects in life so much lower,” Bentley Weaver put in, emerging from the crowd and approaching his wife, appearing as if by magic just after she had mentioned him.

A soft smile spread like butter across Lacey’s face when she saw him. Katherine glowered at him, hardly startled by his arrival—she was used to her husband showing up at the most inconvenient times.

He mirrored Lacey’s smile, winked at her warmly, from where her mother couldn’t see. “Our daughter will thank me someday, for everything I did not do.”

Lacey already thanked him, every day, whether or not she got the chance to say it. Her father was like Madeline, in many ways—humble and grounded somehow, despite the wealthy world into which he’d been born. And he had always wanted his children to make their own way in this world, whenever and however possible. Of course, it often seemed impossible with Katherine as a mother.

“Oh, please, Bentley,” Katherine groaned, rolling her arctic blue eyes, scrolling further through her phone. “Don’t try to play the hero.”

He shrugged, beneath a blazer that was not quite perfectly tailored to his big frame—an utter abomination, in Mrs. Weaver’s mind. Luckily, she was too busy with her phone to notice now.

“I’m not playing anything,” Bentley avowed, eyeing her mobile address book over her bony shoulder. “Certainly not your endless game of who-knows-who.”

She rolled her eyes again, into the back of her exasperated head. “Before you think your father is on your side, Lacey, bear in mind his opinion of your fiancé.”

Ouch. The sharpest dagger of the day. For it struck truest, buried deepest, in the core of Lacey’s heart. Which was already bleeding, from too many wounds today.

Bentley read his daughter’s heart, glared at his wife for drawing blood. “For the thousandth time, Katherine,” he grumbled, “it’s my opinion of the marriage, not of Matthew. He’s a fine man, on many accounts—just not for our daughter.”

“Shouldn’t Lacey be the judge of that?” Katherine retorted, though she’d never let her daughter be the judge of anything.

“Yes; I let her decide. I simply don’t agree with her decision.”

Lacey lowered her gaze, as if she could disappear beneath the shade of her long lashes.

“By the way, Lacey, where has Daniel gone?” her father asked. He had always been fond of her dearest friend, harboring wishes for them to become something more. “Wasn’t he here, just—”

“Oh, he had to leave,” Lacey abruptly cut in.

Bentley glimpsed the rueful pang behind his daughter’s downcast gaze, and asked no further.

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Now isn't that a happy family? Hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into Lacey's roots!

Atria stars in the next scene... And if you liked this one, please don't forget to vote! :)