by Marie Astor
“Please go on up, Ms. Roberts.” The hotel clerk smiled at her benevolently, pointing in the direction of the elevator bank. “It’s the top floor, the penthouse suite.”
“Thank you.” Ally drew a deep breath, disappointed that Ron didn’t come down to the lobby to meet her. It would’ve been a lot less intimidating to make the journey to the Graystones’ suite with Ron by her side.
Either the elevator ride was exceedingly quick or time had somehow sped up, but it seemed to Ally that she found herself standing in front of the door to the Graystones’ suite in a flash of a moment. There was no use dallying around, so she straightened her back and pressed the doorbell button.
Viola Graystone opened the door. “Ally, darling!” She was just as Ally remembered her: tall, slim, and impeccable. Her ash-blond hair was perfectly coiffed, and her slim upright frame was clad in a tailored suit. At fifty-two years of age, Viola Graystone looked no older than forty. If Ron hadn’t told Ally himself, it would’ve been impossible to guess that the true color of Mrs. Graystone’s hair was almost entirely gray, and that she’d had several plastic surgeries, including a full facelift.
From the foyer Ally caught a glimpse of the living room, which had been set up with a dining table. Ron and Mr. Graystone were seated on a sofa. Mr. Graystone was explaining something intently to Ron, whose head was lowered in obedient attention.
“Come on in!” Mrs. Graystone beckoned her. “Boys, Ally is here!” Mrs. Graystone announced in a singsong voice that carried through the air with false cheer.
“Ally!” Ron rose clumsily from the couch, almost knocking over the coffee table as he walked over to greet her. “So good to see you, darling,” said Ron, maintaining a distance that eliminated the possibility of even a kiss on the cheek.
What Ally really wanted was to run into Ron’s arms, rest her head on his chest, and feel the comforting tightness of his warm embrace, but instead seeing how Ron’s arms hung stiffly by his sides, she curbed her impulse to a smile and a nod. “Good to see you too, Ron.”
“Ally, my dear!” Richard Graystone was now standing by Ally’s side. Before she could reciprocate his greeting, he kissed her on both cheeks. “Well, let’s not stand around. Dinner is waiting and I’m starving!” He pointed at the dinner table that had been set with plates.
“I thought we were going out for dinner,” said Ally before she could stop herself.
“We thought a more intimate setting would be best, dear,” Mrs. Graystone replied. She eyed Ally meaningfully. “Don’t you agree?” Viola added.
“Yes, of course. It can get so noisy at a restaurant,” Ally conceded, feeling her face grow warm. Were the Graystones afraid of being seen in public with her?
“Please.” Mrs. Graystone motioned at the dinner table in a gesture that was more of a command than an invitation.
Ron hurried to pull out Ally’s chair. Richard Graystone took a seat next to Ally, which left Ron sitting opposite Ally in a seat that was next to his mother’s.
“I’ll do the serving,” Mrs. Graystone continued cheerfully. “It’ll be just like when Richard and I were first married and I didn’t have a household to run.”
“Can I help?” Ally offered, half rising from her seat.
“Oh no, dear. I wouldn’t hear of it.” Mrs. Graystone lifted off the covers of the appetizer plates that had already been placed on the table. “The first course is pâté in croute.”
Ally took a small bite of her dish. She wasn’t a very big fan of pâté on a good day, but right now the prospect of shoving the slippery mixture down her cringing insides seemed like an impossible feat.
“Wine?” Mr. Graystone offered, raising a bottle of red.
“Yes, please,” Ally replied gratefully, hopefully that a bit of alcohol would help her feel more at ease.
“There you are, dear.” Richard Graystone poured just enough to cover the bottom of Ally’s glass.
“Thank you.” Ally brought the glass to her lips.
Mrs. Graystone raised an index finger, making Ally’s hand freeze halfway to her mouth. “First, a toast. To new beginnings!” she said brightly.
“To new beginnings,” Ally repeated, not exactly sure what it was that Mrs. Graystone had in mind. She tried to catch Ron’s eyes, but his gaze seemed to be glued to his glass. Ally raised her glass to her lips and took two long gulps.
“More wine, dear?” asked Mrs. Graystone, eyeing Ally’s nearly empty glass.
Ally nodded. “Yes, please.” The wine did make her feel more relaxed, and while she didn’t dare take on the pâté, she gamely attacked the white bread and butter that were standing in the middle of the table.
Ron reached for the wine bottle, but his father had anticipated his move. “Here you are, Ally.” Mr. Graystone liberally refilled Ally’s glass. “Would you like some as well, Ron?”
“No, thank you,” Ron declined, sending another piece of pâté into his mouth and chewing intently.
Ally took another sip of her wine. This was the most bizarre dinner of her life. She tried to catch Ron’s gaze, but failed again as Ron’s attention seemed to be focused entirely on his plate.
“Is everyone ready for the second course?” Mrs. Graystone asked, rising from her seat. “Ally, I see that you barely touched your food!”
“I’m just not a big fan of pâté, Mrs. Graystone,” Ally replied politely. “But I promise to do a better job with the second course.” Ally noted that Mrs. Graystone’s plate was mostly full, but apparently she was the only one allowed not to finish her meals.
“I sure hope so,” Mrs. Graystone replied. “It’s braised quail. I had it ordered by special request.”
Wonderful, Ally thought. The prospect of seeing the tiny bird, braised or however cooked, was not appetizing in the least.
Mrs. Graystone swiftly removed the first course plates, and placed second course plates on the table. “Ah,” she inhaled with anticipation. “One of my favorite dishes.” She plunged the knife into the small bird on her plate, cutting it with swift precision. “Delicious,” Mrs. Graystone announced after chewing a small bite and rinsing it down with wine.
For a few minutes everyone was quiet, focusing on the food, or in Ally’s case trying not to focus on it. She pushed the quail to the side of her plate, directing her attention to the fingerling potatoes and broccoli rabe that accompanied the dish.
“Delicious,” Mr. Graystone announced, pushing his plate away.
Ron nodded in agreement, but Ally was glad to see that the quail on his plate was barely touched.
“Time for dessert!” Mrs. Graystone stood up to gather the plates. “It’s éclairs!”
Once they had their dessert and coffee in front of them, Mrs. Graystone broke the silence. “Ally, I think it’s time to discuss the reason we came down here today.”
Ally nodded, thinking it best to remain silent. This wasn’t at all how she had pictured the dinner with her future in-laws. From the way Mr. and Mrs. Graystone were behaving, she wasn’t even sure that Ron had told his parents about their engagement. She had decided to leave her engagement ring at home as a precaution and now was glad of it. Dinner had been awkward enough.
“We are aware of the difficult circumstances that your father is now facing and we wanted to let you know that you have our backing and support,” said Mr. Graystone. “However, this is a precarious situation, and we all need to act with utmost discretion and care.”
“Ron has told us about your engagement,” Mrs. Graystone added solemnly.
At the sound of his mother’s words, Ron glanced up quickly at Ally only to guiltily look away.
“And while this would normally be a very joyous occasion,” Mrs. Graystone continued, “I am afraid that we will have to postpone the festivities until a more appropriate time.” She shot a quick glance at Ally’s left hand. “I see that you’re not wearing the engagement ring. Good girl.”
“I didn’t wear the ring because I wasn’t sure if Ron had had the time to tell you th
e news,” Ally retorted. She had wanted to be polite, but her tone was sharper than she intended. She had had enough; if the Graystones thought they were going to intimidate her into being ashamed of her father, they had another thing coming.
Mrs. Graystone smiled easily. “Yes, dear. Richard and I are the least of your concerns at the moment. It’s the press that we all should be worried about. Naturally, you must understand that the Graystone name carries certain expectations with it, and it wouldn’t do for it to be embroiled in a scandal.”
“Embroiled in a scandal? Just what exactly are you implying, Mrs. Graystone?” Ally retorted. “My father is innocent, and it is only a matter of time until his innocence is proven.”
“Please, darling, call me Viola. If we’re going to be mother and daughter-in-law, we have to be on a first name basis,” Mrs. Graystone replied in a perfectly controlled voice. “I’m not trying to imply anything, but am merely stating the facts. Your father, while a respected member of the business community in the past, now happens to be held in jail, without bail no less and on very serious charges. Or have I missed anything?”
“Mother!” Ron exclaimed, half-rising from his chair. “You can’t speak to Ally that way!”
“Sit down, Ron,” Mrs. Graystone said firmly, without as much as a glance at Ron who sheepishly obeyed his mother’s command. “Well, Ally, have I missed anything?”
Ally merely stared back at Viola’s icy gaze, unable to say a word. It took all of her self-control to hold back tears. It was not the searing words coming from Viola’s mouth that had unhinged her, but the frightened look on Ron’s face. She could barely recognize the man she had agreed to spend the rest of her life with in the scared, cowering boy she saw now.
“Now, now, let’s all calm down,” Richard Graystone interjected. “Ally, please forgive Viola for getting too emotional. She tends to do that, but she really means well. If we’re going to get through this, we have to all stand together. All Viola was trying to say is that we need to be mindful of our actions at this time.” Mr. Graystone took a quick sip of his coffee. “Ally, we think it would be best to postpone the announcement of your and Ron’s engagement until things have quieted down a bit. I’m sure your father’s name is going to be exonerated in due time, and then we can make the announcement. It’ll be a much more joyous occasion that way, wouldn’t you agree?”
Ally didn’t reply back. She didn’t even look at Mr. Graystone; instead, she was looking at Ron.
Ron lowered his eyes. He looked like a lost puppy. “This won’t change anything between us, Ally, I promise.”
Slowly, Ally rose from her seat. It took all of her self-control to subdue the tremor that was threatening to overtake her body. Despite Ron’s assurances that his parents would support her, she had felt uneasy about this meeting from the beginning, and now she knew that she had been right. The Graystones might put on a friendly facade, which wasn’t even the case with Mrs. Graystone, but in reality all they were worried about was marring the venerable Graystone name by being associated with that of the Roberts. Ally wanted to assure them that they needn’t worry about it, not anymore. “Thank you, Richard and Viola, for your concern. I very much appreciate it. Naturally, we wouldn’t want the press to have a field day, so you needn’t worry; the news of Ron’s and my engagement will remain secret,” she paused, taking a deep breath, almost in disbelief of what she was about to say. Yet there was no choice but to say it. “Because there will be no news to report. The engagement is off. Ron, I will return the ring to you tomorrow.” She pushed her chair back. “No need to get up,” she added, “I will let myself out.”
“Ally!” Ron jumped up from his seat, pushing his chair so hard that it fell back with a thump.
“Sit down, Ron,” Mrs. Graystone seethed. “This is for the best.”
“No, it isn’t!” Ron exploded. “It isn’t for the best, at least not for me! You know how much Ally means to me and still you sit here and insult her. And like a spineless moron I let you do it. I’ve had it. I won’t let you run my life.” Ally was making her way to the foyer. “Ally, don’t leave!” Ron shouted after her.
“Do not take that tone with me, young man,” Mrs. Graystone commanded. “Or have you forgotten the responsibilities that come with the name that you have the privilege of bearing?”
“You can take your name and your responsibilities and shove them up your—” Ron snapped. “I am going after Ally.”
Just as the remnants of Ron’s words carried within shot of Ally’s ears, she shut the front door behind her and ran for the elevator. She’d be a liar not to admit that her stride could’ve been much swifter as she was making her way out of the Graystones’ suite, but curiosity—if one could use such a light word to describe the emotions that were raging inside her—had gotten the better of her. A part of her still wanted to believe that Ron would not turn his back on her; that two years of passionate declarations of love, promises, and plans couldn’t be erased in one fell swoop. She’d said what she said in the heat of the moment, fueled by the hurt that she felt from Mrs. Graystone’s patronizing words and Ron’s meek acquiescence, but deep down she wanted to hope that Ron was still the man she had fallen in love with. A faint smile of satisfaction passed over her lips: at least he cared enough to go after her. It didn’t mean that she was ready to forgive him and to take back her words, but at least it gave her the small consolation of knowing that her relationship with Ron had meant enough to him to stand up to his mother.
Luckily, an elevator arrived within seconds, closing its doors behind her just as Ron’s footsteps could be heard gaining on her down the hall. “Ally!” she heard him call just as the elevator shut its doors.
Ally sprinted through the lobby towards the exit. Once outside, she scanned the area for an empty cab. There was no question of walking back to her place, as Ron would catch up with her within minutes. Thankfully, an elderly couple was getting out of a taxi that had pulled up in front of the hotel. The gentleman was already on the ground, helping the lady out of the car. Ally jumped in just as soon as the woman’s second foot was on the ground, earning a disapproving look from the couple, but Ally didn’t care: anything to avoid having to see Ron’s face or hear his voice.
***
Back at the hotel suite Richard Graystone shook his head. “You know, Viola, you never cease to amaze me. You are an intelligent woman, but sometimes you act like an impulsive schoolgirl. Must you always let your temper get the better of you?”
Viola Graystone placed her hands on her hips in a defensive gesture. “My temper, Richard? I must say, I can’t imagine who could possibly remain cool in a situation like this.”
“I could.”
“Yes, of course, you and your cool logic. Never let emotions get in the way, be it in the courtroom or in life.”
“That’s right, Viola. But let me ask you, what have you accomplished with your little outburst? Our son’s fiancée stormed off and our son thinks we’re out to ruin his life. Bravo!”
“I wasn’t planning to accomplish anything.” Viola pursed her lips. “I can’t plan and calculate every word I say, Richard. Not when talking to my son. I’m not in a courtroom, for crying out loud.”
“But don’t you see, Viola? This is no different from a courtroom. We need to present our case and convince the jury to make the decision that would satisfy us. Only instead of the jury we need to convince Ron.”
“For crying out loud, stop talking to me as though I were a child!”
“Then stop acting like one and pull yourself together.”
“How can I when Ron wants to marry that horrid girl? I didn’t like her even before the scandal, but now it’s simply out of the question.”
“It won’t be out the question unless Ron agrees with us, and right now I don’t see him agreeing. Do you?”
Viola Graystone sighed heavily. “Why couldn’t things have worked out between Ron and Annette? They were perfect for each other.”
“Oh, I don�
�t know about that, Viola. It sounded like Annette had made a cuckold of our son with the local fraternity boys.”
“Fiddlesticks! Don’t be so melodramatic, Richard. If I had a fit every time you had one of your escapades, I’d be in a mental institution. Marriage requires commitment, patience, and a certain degree of leniency.”
“True.” Richard Graystone nodded curtly, not being at all pleased with his wife’s mention of his infidelity. He had paid handsomely for his misbehavior: Viola’s jewelry collection was extensive to say the least. Still, that didn’t mean that he wanted the same fate for his son, but then neither was he certain that that Ally girl was the right choice either, not with a scandal hanging over her father. “But you forget that Ron and Annette weren’t married; they weren’t even engaged. And if a young lady lacks the restraint to be faithful to her boyfriend, what kind of wife would she make?”
“One with an impeccable pedigree,” Viola said pointedly.
Richard Graystone smirked. This was too good to pass up. “I don’t remember you being so concerned with pedigree when you worked as a secretary at my father’s law firm, flirting with the senior partner’s son.”
Not even a hint of blush touched Viola’s cheeks. “I worked as a secretary because my family had lost its money, but don’t you forget that my family has a history that is just as illustrious as that of the Graystones.”
Sans the bank account, Richard Graystone thought, but decided that it was best to keep his thoughts to himself. He didn’t want to infuriate Viola; merely needling her was enough.
“Victor Roberts, however, sprung on the social map like some kind of fungus, and now that vulgar man has finally got what he deserves.”
“Come on, Viola. One could hardly call him vulgar—crowd shy is more like it. Victor Roberts is one of the most generous men I’ve ever met. There isn’t a charity out there that he doesn’t support.”