Lydia sat down at a bench and stared at herself in the mirror. She reached into her purse, pulled out a lipstick case, and fixed her lips. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, then looked at Jo in the mirror.
“Do you know who that woman at my table was?”
Jo shook her head. “I’m new to the area.”
“That was . . .” She waved a hand around. “Never mind. It’s immaterial.”
She seemed to want to talk, and Jo wanted to earn her trust. She perched herself on the end of the bench.
“She wasn’t nice to you, was she?” Jo asked.
Lydia stared at herself in the mirror. “You caught that.”
“Yes,” Jo said softly. “You handled yourself well. I don’t think anybody knew you were upset, except for the woman you were talking to.”
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks. I wasn’t prepared for what she said, though.”
“Oh?”
“It was about my husband.”
Lydia was about to say more, but the door opened and a woman in a blue dress entered. She gave them a polite smile as she walked past and into the other room.
“Well, it’s nothing,” Lydia said.
Jo cursed to herself. It had seemed she might get Lydia to open up—even if just a little—but the opportunity had been snatched away. Lydia dabbed at her eyes with a pinky finger. She looked dejected.
“Would you like to go home?” Jo asked.
Lydia’s eyebrows shot up. “The event isn’t over,” she said. It seemed as if she needed permission to leave.
“You don’t have to be on all the time,” Jo murmured. “You made your appearance. Isn’t that enough?”
Lydia continued to stare at herself, and then she nodded. “You know what? I think you’re right. I’ll go back in and make my excuses, and we’ll go. I’m tired.” The pinky finger now touched her lips, and then she smiled at Jo. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Jo stood and stepped back as Lydia got up as well. She followed her boss back into the dining hall, where Lydia marched purposefully back to her table, her head held high, her shoulders squared. She whisked her napkin off the chair and sat down, then smiled at the woman next to her. She chatted for a few minutes and then stood again, still all smiles.
After flitting her hand in her special wave, she made her way back toward Jo. The woman at the table stared after Lydia for a moment before her husband engaged her in conversation.
After they left the grand ballroom together, Lydia waited with security near the doors as Jo went outside for the SUV. She parked in front of the building, then hurried up the steps and escorted Lydia to the car. She held the door for her and got behind the wheel, and they drove away.
Lydia stared out the window, her lips pressed together firmly. After a minute or so, she surprised Jo with a question.
“Who do you care about most?”
Jo didn’t need to think long. “My family.”
“I understand that.” She paused. “Tell me about them.”
Jo did, trying to find a balance between connecting with Lydia and not sharing too much. She told her boss about Will and his love of cars, and how he’d taken her and her sister on camping trips. When she spoke about Avery, Jo gushed with pride at how well her sister had done in school, and how she was forging a career for herself.
“You’d do anything for them?” Lydia asked when she finished.
Jo nodded, thinking about her current situation. “Yes.”
“That’s an honest answer.”
How ironic, Jo thought. Here she was, being told she was honest, and yet she was lying about her present circumstances and about why she was driving for Lydia. But she’d told Lydia the truth in one regard—she would do anything to protect her father and sister.
“Is there something you’d like to talk about?” Jo asked.
Lydia looked at her. Her lower lip was trembling, barely discernible in the shadowy dimness in the car. She did seem to want to talk. She seemed desperate to divest herself of something that troubled her. Jo thought she was going to, but then she shook her head.
“No, thank you.”
Lydia was quiet the rest of the drive home. Jo hoped she might say more, but the woman only stared out the window. She didn’t want to push her luck—better not to risk irritating Lydia in any way. Sometimes silence was the best option.
When they returned to the mansion, Jo hopped out and opened the back door for her. Lydia got out and paused, searching Jo’s face. Then she forced a small smile.
“Thank you—and not just for the drive. I appreciate . . . being able to talk to someone.”
“It was a nice conversation,” Jo said. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
“Thank you,” Lydia repeated, then strode away from the car.
Jo waited until her boss went inside, then sat for a moment, wondering what the other woman had said that had upset Lydia so much.
