The Ignore Daughter Have True Honor Chapter 04
The next day.
The most famous wedding venue in Newport. The Chanler at Cliff Walk.
My parents kept glancing anxiously toward the entrance.
Elliot, Ethan, and Melanie huddled together, strategizing in low, urgent voices about how to approach the Ashfords. Which conversation topics to lead with. Which family members to prioritize.
Every word out of their mouths was calibrated to impress.
Halfway through the toasts, Serena stood up from the head table, walked onto the platform, and picked up the microphone.
“Everyone, thank you so much for being here to celebrate Julian and me today. While I have the mic, I wanted to take a moment to do a little something for Hazel.”
Her smile was radiant.
“A little matchmaking!”
I stiffened.
Every head in the room turned toward me.
A surge of anger hit me.
Serena’s smile was so earnest it looked almost dewy.
“Hazel Whitmore, twenty-eight, high school diploma, currently working as a barista in New York. Eighteen dollars an hour. But she’s a wonderful person. So grounded, so genuine. If any of the single gentlemen in the room tonight are interested, please, come say hi.”
She gave a small bow, humble, almost apologetic.
“Don’t hold her background or income against her. For my sake, as the bride, please give her a chance.”
A balding man on the right side of the ballroom stood up and waved at me over his beer belly.
“I manage the deli counter at a Costco up in Providence. Forty-two, divorced, three kids. What do you say?”
Another man stood up from the corner. He couldn’t have been more than five-five.
He raised his glass toward me. “Hi, Hazel. Rutgers, class of ’09. I sell auto policies for State Farm. Never been married. Still living with my mom, but that’s temporary.”
I pulled my brows together.
“I’m not doing this.”
My mother’s face turned an ugly shade of red.
“These men are decent guys. They don’t even care that you never went to college, and you’re being picky?”
She lowered her voice to a hiss. “Give someone your number. Do not humiliate Serena.”
I looked up at the stage.
Serena was biting her lower lip, her eyes glossy, doing that thing she’d always done. The wounded doe.
It was always the same move.
Eighth grade, she’d worried I was studying too hard for the SATs. So she’d accidentally thrown out my entire set of prep books.
High school, she’d worried I was getting too vain. So she’d accidentally used the money I’d saved for six months to buy herself Taylor Swift tickets.
Always packaged as concern.
Always cruelty wrapped in something soft.
And every single time, everyone took her side.
Like right now.
Her voice cracked.
“Hazel, is it that you don’t like anyone I picked out? But given your situation… I don’t know what else I can do for you besides trying to help at my wedding.”
Julian slid his arm around her shoulders and frowned at me. “Hazel, Serena was up half the night worrying about you finding someone. If they aren’t your type, just take the number and figure it out later. Why are you making a scene in front of all these people?”
The whispers rippled across the ballroom.
“The bride went to Yale. Associate at McKinsey. Compared to that, her sister is…”
“High school diploma. Barista in New York. No wonder the family’s stressed.”
“Wait until she finds out how much weight the Ashford name carries. She’s in for a rude awakening.”
My mother’s finger jabbed at my face, trembling.
“Today is Serena’s wedding! You just have to ruin it for everyone, don’t you? Get out!”
Elliot stood up, his voice cold. “Hazel. Leave. You’re not welcome here.”
Ethan didn’t hold back. “You’re just jealous she landed an Ashford! Get out already!”
Melanie tugged at my sleeve, whispering, “Hazel, just apologize. If they throw you out, how are the Ashfords ever going to hook you up with a job?”
I pulled my arm free and turned to face the room.
“So you’re all sure. You want me to leave.”
They didn’t know I’d already confirmed the meeting with Mr. Ashford. The location was this wedding.
My mother pointed at the door, her voice shrill.
“Out! I’ll pretend I never had you!”
Onstage, Serena dabbed at her eye. “Hazel, this day means everything to me. You’ve made it impossible for me. Please just go.”
Julian’s face hardened. “If you’re not willing to accept Serena’s kindness, and you insist on embarrassing her, then leave.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”
I stood up cleanly and headed for the door.
That was when hurried footsteps came from the entrance of the ballroom.
And a voice, panicked.
“Dr. Whitmore, wait. She cannot leave.”
Every head in the room whipped around.
Sterling Ashford, stripped of his usual composure, was practically running across the floor toward me.
His voice was raw with urgency.
“The bride can leave. The groom can leave. But Dr. Whitmore——”
“She does not.”