Veiled Hearts

Seven

The Lincoln Park Saturday morning sun cast a gentle glow over Margaret Sinclair's Georgian townhouse, a quaint yet opulent home nestled among manicured gardens and historic charm. Inside, the space was meticulously decorated with elegant furnishings, plush carpets, and tasteful art.

In the cozy breakfast nook, Margaret sat at a mahogany table, dressed in a black designer tracksuit suit. Her hands freshly manicured. Her appearance was always immaculate. Violet wondered how she kept up and managed everything, whilst never missing a beat. A silver coffee pot and fine china teacups adorned the table, alongside an assortment of pastries, fresh fruit, and scrambled eggs with smoked salmon—Margaret's preferred morning fare.

Violet, sat in the adjacent living room, wearing her post workout gear from her morning runs. She sipped her coffee, watching mindlessly at the local news proceedings, attempting to navigate the conversation.

"Brunch is ready dear, join your mother at the table."

Violet sighed, it had been tradition for her and her mother to have Saturday brunches. She would often wonder what would happen if she picked up and moved. Would her mother be so emotionally dependent on her?

Margaret's gaze was sharp as she took a sip from her teacup. "Violet, how are your investments performing? I trust you're managing them with the same diligence you apply to your professional endeavors?" She bolted out when Violet sat.

Violet hesitated, focusing on plating her food. "They're doing well, Mom. I've been keeping a close eye on them."

Margaret's eyes narrowed slightly. "I hope so. It's critical to ensure your financial stability, especially given the recent expenses you've mentioned."

Womp womp, your financial stability.

Violet felt a pang of discomfort but managed to keep her composure. "I'm handling it. The car issue has been a bit of a setback, but I'm managing."

Margaret raised an eyebrow, her expression one of detached scrutiny.  "Yes, well, one must wonder about the timing of these 'car troubles.' They do seem to coincide rather conveniently with your financial needs. It's peculiar I must say. I pray this has nothing to do with that delinquent brother of yours. I raised you to be smarter than that."

Violet's discomfort deepened. "I assure you mom, it's nothing more than a coincidence. I'm just trying to cover all my bases."

Margaret's lips curved into a thin, disbelieving smile. "Is that so? It's quite difficult to reconcile these 'coincidences' with what I see. But if you say so. Just remember that maintaining a reputation for integrity is as important as managing your assets."

Violet nodded, though she felt a tight knot in her stomach. The conversation shifted as Margaret continued, her tone devoid of warmth.

"Have you given any thought to attending the Rocker Ball this year?" Margaret asked. "It's an excellent opportunity to surround yourself with eligible associates. Networking, as you know, is vital for career advancement."

Violet frowned slightly. "I haven't really thought about it. I've been so focused on work and—-"

"It's an important event. You should consider it. It's a chance to present yourself in a more favorable light and meet people who could be influential in your career."

Violet took a deep breath. "I'll think about it." As Margaret talked about the Rocker Ball, Violet felt a familiar tightening in her chest. It wasn't just about attending another tedious event; it was about her mother's constant pressure to mold her into someone she wasn't.

Margaret's eyes flickered with something like disdain. "And what of your social circle? I've noticed you've been spending time with...what was her name? Pamela? Isn't she the one who works at that little boutique? I suppose everyone has to start somewhere."