They Both Wanted Me Every Day — Now They Both Want Sunday to Last Longer Without Me Chapter 08

They Both Wanted Me Every Day — Now They Both Want Sunday to Last Longer Without Me Chapter 08

With the sponsorship letter held back, the Vance old embroidery couldn’t enter the city exhibition.

My dad called from out of town. First words, “What did you do to piss off Ethan Sterling now?”

I said, “He’s using Grandma’s things to threaten me.”

A pause. “It’s just a sponsorship letter. Let it slide. Ethan’s connected to a lot of people now—useful for the Vances too.”

I listened to the unfamiliar voice on the phone. “Dad. Grandma’s name was Eleanor.”

“I know.”

“You forgot.”

He got short. “Lena. Don’t throw old grudges at me. Your mother cared too much about those needles and threads, and it tore this family apart. Don’t be like her.”

I hung up.

Mia stood in the doorway with an invitation. “The exhibition invited Nora.”

I took it.

Nora would be bringing the navy gown to the pre-exhibition gala. Her name on it, printed beautifully. [Designer, Nora Hale.]

Ethan called right after. “See the invite?”

I said, “I saw it.”

“Nora needs this chance.”

“So my work gets her name on it?”

His voice was tired. “Lena. You’ve never even liked embroidery. Why are you making this a fight?”

I asked, “What if I told you this isn’t just a gown?”

“Then what is it?”

I looked at the name on the invite. “It’s my grandmother’s technique.”

Ethan paused. “Don’t be dramatic. Nora just used your help.”

“Help has to be returned.”

He finally lost patience. “Don’t come to the gala tonight. I don’t want to see you cause a scene.”

I said, “I’ll be there.”

“Lena Vance.”

“Ethan. You can hold back a letter. You can’t hold me back from walking in.”

…

The gala was at Hudson Gallery.

When I arrived, Nora was on stage giving an interview. She said the navy gown was inspired by her mother.

“Growing up, we didn’t have much. My mom always said a girl should have at least one dress that makes her feel like she can take on the world.”

Plenty of people in the audience were moved.

I stood in the back row, listening to her turn someone else’s stitching into her own sob story.

Mia was red with anger. “How can she do this?”

I said, “Let her finish.”

The host asked, “I heard this dress almost had a problem—did you fix it yourself overnight?”

Nora held the microphone. “A friend helped, too.”

Ethan sat in the front row, his gaze at her soft.

The host pressed, “Who was that friend?”

Nora looked at me, a pleading in her eyes. She wanted me to stand up and say we were still friends.

I didn’t move.

Nora smiled. “She doesn’t like the spotlight. I won’t say her name.”

The crowd applauded.

Chad Harrington spotted me and strode over with a drink. “Miss Vance. You actually showed up.” His voice carried. People turned. “What, here to claim credit?”

I said, “Yes.”

He laughed. Then laughed harder.

Ethan left his front-row seat and strode toward me. “Lena. Out.”

I asked, “Scared?”

He grabbed my wrist. “Don’t make me lose it here.”

Nora came down too. “Lena. I already said a friend helped. What more do you want?”

I looked at her. “Say my name.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “You want me to humiliate myself in front of everyone?”

I said, “You were up there with my work under your name. That’s already humiliating enough for me.”

Ethan grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward the exit. Mia tried to step in, but Chad shoved her aside.

“You’re not even employed here anymore. Get lost.”

Mia slammed into a display case. The glass over the navy gown wobbled.

I stopped walking.

Ethan said low, “Lena. Stop this. You leave now, I’ll pretend it didn’t happen.”

I asked, “And if I don’t?”

He looked at me, word by word. “That sponsorship letter? It’s never seeing the exhibition committee. Your grandmother’s work can rot in that beat-up yard of yours.”

Before I could answer, the side door of the gallery swung open.

An old man in a gray tunic entered with a cane. The security guard moved to stop him, but when the gallery director saw the card in his hand, he immediately bowed.

The old man looked at me.

“Hey, Vance girl. Who told you your grandmother’s work belonged in some backyard?”