She wore a Chanel suit and had her hair done at the club salon every Thursday without fail. “Standards exist for a reason.”
My father nodded from behind the financial section of the newspaper. He’d been a member of Riverside for forty years, served on the board twice, and considered the club a second home.
I sipped my orange juice and said nothing. “Emma, you’re awfully quiet,” Lauren observed. Her tone suggested this was a character flaw.
“Don’t you have any thoughts about the gala?”
“It sounds lovely,” I said. “That’s all? Just lovely?”
She exchanged glances with our brother Michael, who sat across from me with his wife Jessica.
“The gala is the social event of the season. Surely you can be more enthusiastic.”
“I’m sure it will be beautiful,” I offered. “Will you even be there?” Jessica asked.
She had that particular tone wealthy people use when they’re pretending concern but actually highlighting differences. “I know the tickets are expensive. Five hundred per person.”
“I’ll be there,” I said simply.
“Did you save up?” Michael asked. “That’s smart. Financial planning is important when you’re on a limited budget.”
I’d made $7 million last year, but I didn’t mention this.
“Emma’s situation is delicate,” Mom said, lowering her voice as if I couldn’t hear. “We don’t want to make her uncomfortable by discussing money.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” I said. “Of course you are,” Dad said, finally looking up from his paper.
“Emma, there’s no shame in your circumstances. You chose a different path. Teaching yoga doesn’t pay like corporate law or medicine.”
I taught yoga exactly twice a week at a community center as volunteer work.
My actual career was something they’d never bothered to ask about. “I manage,” I said. “Barely,” Lauren said.
“Mom told me you’re still driving that old Honda. Emma, if you need help with a car payment, you should just ask. We’re family.”
I drove a Range Rover I’d paid cash for two months ago, but the Honda had been parked outside Mom’s house once when I’d borrowed it for an errand.
They’d apparently added it to their narrative about my financial struggles. “The Honda runs fine,” I said. “It’s seven years old,” Brad said.
“No one here drives a car that old. It’s about image, Emma.”
“Perception matters,” Jessica added, gesturing around the elegant dining room. “Riverside has standards.
Everyone who comes through those gates represents the club’s reputation.”
“Which brings me to something important,” Lauren said, setting down her mimosa. “Emma, we need to talk about your guest privileges.”
“My guest privileges?”
“You’ve been using Dad’s membership to come to Sunday brunch for months now,” Lauren continued. “And while family is family, there are rules about how often guests can access the club facilities.”
“I’ve been here four times this year,” I said.
“Exactly. That’s quite a lot for someone who isn’t actually a member.”
Lauren’s smile was plastic and sharp. “The membership committee has been asking questions.”
“Questions about what?”
“About whether you meet the standards for association with the club,” Michael said.
“Look, we’re not trying to be harsh, but Riverside has a reputation to maintain. The membership here is exclusive for a reason.”
“Let me be clear,” I said slowly. “You’re asking me not to come to family brunch?”
“We’re suggesting,” Dad corrected, “that you might be more comfortable at more casual establishments.
There are plenty of nice restaurants in town where the atmosphere isn’t so formal.”
“Where the membership fees aren’t a concern,” Mom added gently. “Darling, we love you, but we also understand your limitations. There’s no point in you feeling out of place every week.”
I looked around the table.
Lauren and Brad. Michael and Jessica. Mom and Dad.
And my younger brother Ryan with his fiancée Sophie. Eight people who shared my blood, and not one of them actually knew me. “I see,” I said quietly.
“Don’t take it personally,” Ryan said. He was the youngest at twenty-eight and usually the kindest, but even he looked uncomfortable. “It’s just that Sophie and I are planning our wedding, and we want to have the reception here.
The membership committee will be scrutinizing our family more closely.”
“Can’t have any weak links,” Sophie said with a laugh that was supposed to sound like a joke, but wasn’t. “Exactly,” Lauren agreed. “Emma, you understand, don’t you?
This isn’t about you as a person. It’s about image. Association.
The optics of having a family member who can’t afford membership dining here on guest passes every week.”
“I see,” I repeated. A server approached with fresh coffee. His name was Daniel, and he’d worked at Riverside for twelve years.
He didn’t recognize me, which was exactly as I’d planned when I’d completed the acquisition documents three months ago. “More coffee, Miss Chen?” Daniel asked. “No, thank you, Daniel.”
He nodded and moved to the next table.
“See, you even know the staff names,” Jessica said, wrinkling her nose. “Emma, that’s… that’s not how members interact with service workers. It’s too familiar.”
“They’re people,” I said.
“They’re employees,” Brad corrected. “There’s a professional distance that should be maintained. You’re treating them like equals.”
“They are equals.”
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