Chapter 12

The large reception room was elegantly decorated. Several crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, glittering and twinkling in the light. A large banner was hung from the ceiling that read, HAPPY 40TH ANNIVERSARY. White tables were scattered throughout the large room, and the catering staff was busy arranging tables, chairs, china, food, and cutlery for each one.

Sylvia scanned the room and spotted Claudia Roberts talking to a young woman. She was smiling and make grand gestures with her hands. The woman was nodding her head in agreement and walked away. Sylvia began to walk towards Claudia while admiring the elegantly decorated room. The walls were draped in white and black curtains that went from the ceiling to the floor. On each table was a glass angel centerpiece, with large white and black roses. She looked up and noticed large silver stars hanging from the ceiling. The stars sparkled when they caught the light bouncing off the chandeliers. Sylvia slowed her stride and stood in the middle of the room and looked around.

It's so beautiful, she thought to herself. I'm sure Claudia spared no expense.

A waiter walked up to her and offered her a glass of champagne. She looked confused, and he pointed to Claudia, who was waving at her. Sylvia took the champagne and walked toward her. She'd known Claudia for several years, having met her while dating her now ex-husband. Their husbands were partners in a venture that had yielded both of them several million dollars.

The only thing they had in common was money and how to spend it. They'd gone to great lengths to one-up each other over the years. This went on for a few years until Chatter published a very unflattering story about Jackson Roberts and his harem of mistresses. When Claudia confronted Sylvia about the story, she shrugged it off. She really didn't care if it embarrassed or humiliated her. That magazine sold more copies than any other previous issue, and Sylvia made a fortune. They didn't talk for a while until Claudia found herself without an invitation for the Met Gala; then she had no choice but to reach out to Sylvia.

Sylvia had rebranded her magazine and was making her presence known in the world of fashion. Her magazine had launched the careers of some of the most notable designers and fashion models in the industry. Claudia had decided to put her pride aside and call Sylvia, who made her practically beg for the invite – and relished every moment of it. They agreed to put the magazine incident behind them, and Claudia went to the Met Gala, the most exclusive party in the world.

It was then Claudia become indebted to Sylvia, who used the Met Gala incident as a way to use Claudia, all while keeping her "friendship" intact. Claudia pretended to befriend Sylvia, inviting her to parties, dinners, and other social events, while Sylvia used Claudia to gather information on their husbands' business dealings and use the information as leverage in court. She was able to obtain so much information through Claudia, by the end of her divorce, she walked away with more than half of his business and personal holdings.

"Sylvia, so I'm glad you made it, and thank you for coming early. I was hoping to catch up with you. You know once the party starts, I'll be in hosting mode."

She kissed Sylvia on both cheeks and briefly hugged her. Claudia was wearing an all-white Zuhair Murad's embellished fishtail gown.

Sylvia smiled. "Your gown is divine, Claudia. Simply divine. Is it Murad's?"

Claudia smiled and turned around. "Yes. You like it? I saw it and knew it would be perfect for tonight."

"Yes, I think that maybe a few years old, but still lovely all the same."

Claudia half-smiled and said, "I have a moment. Come, let's sit, and tell me all the gossip!" She took Sylvia's hand and led her to a nearby table. Sylvia put down her glass and sat down. "So," Claudia began, "how is the world of fashion and trends?"

Sylvia half-smiled and said, "Oh, we're gearing up for the spring issue. Very exciting." Claudia smiled. "I'm glad you could make it. I'm so excited. Stanley is coming. I made him promise to take a day off from saving the world's poor and join his parents. You know, he's really not at all what I and his father expected. I thought he'd be married by now and me with grandchildren to spoil. But no, he's always in some remote country or working for some goddamn charity. I swear, Sylvia, every time I turn around, he's donating money to some organization. I mean, it's okay to give back, but don't give it all away."

"Well, you can't take it with you, now can you?" Sylvia said.

"What's the matter, dear? You don't seem to be yourself today," Claudia said. "Oh, I'm fine. Just a little tired from the flight."

Claudia frowned. "Did you fly commercial? Oh dear, no wonder you're tired. Next time, you need to fly with us on Jackson's new plane. I tell you, bypassing all the lines and people in the airport is great. I couldn't fly commercial again. I don't know how people do it."

Sylvia shifted in her seat. She frowned a little but allowed Claudia to continue talking.

"I just can't understand what Stanley gets out of it. I mean, yes, people are poor, but that isn't our fault. I thought after college he'd go into business with his father, not give away his money.

Claudia looked at Sylvia. "Are you okay, dear? You look a little flushed." Sylvia managed to smile and say, "Yes, Claudia. I'm fine."

Claudia motioned for a waiter. "There are going to be so many people here. I decided to wear my dress now. It's just so beautiful." Claudia admired the sparkles in her dress, then continued. "Oh, you remember Constance Worthington?" Sylvia nodded her head yes. "I heard she has stage 4 breast cancer. Poor dear. She lost her hair and simply looks a fright. I just don't know what I would say to her. I mean, I wanted to invite her, but...well, you know. Cancer. I heard she had a double mastectomy. Oh, could you imagine? Poor dear. I'll send her some flowers when I get home."

"What about treatment?" Sylvia asked. Claudia leaned closer to her. "I heard she had the best doctors money could buy. You know her husband is head deep in oil, so money wasn't a problem. I heard she tried everything, even experimental treatments. You know, it's a shame. All the money in the world and they still can't save her. I heard she tried everything. Stephanie Dell told me she saw her at a dinner party. She had on some kind of turban head wrap thing. Why would you even think about going out and making everyone uncomfortable?"

"So what, Constance gets cancer, and she's supposed to stay inside?" Sylvia said. "I didn't say that," Claudia protested. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"You said her cancer made everyone uncomfortable. Do you think Constance is comfortable, Claudia?"

"Well, no, of course not. I just wouldn't know what to say." "I see," said Sylvia.

"I have so much to finish. Now, Sylvia, you go back to your room and get some rest. I want you looking fabulous. I put you at our table, next to Stanley, for dinner. There will be music and dancing." Claudia's voice was upbeat. "You'll have a wonderful time."

Sylvia stood up. "I can't wait."

Claudia stood up carefully, making sure not to snag her gown. "Yes. We'll have a wonderful time. Now, what happened to that waiter? I'm sorry, Sylvia, I really must go. See you tonight." Claudia turned and walked toward a group of catering staff. Sylvia stood and watched her. She felt tired. She wanted to tell Claudia what was going on, but she knew Claudia wasn't really a friend. She would tell everyone she had cancer, and they'd talk about her the same way Claudia talked about Constance. She turned and slowly walked out of the ballroom.

"Stanley, you simply must stay for the week. I insist," Claudia said, scolding her son.

Stanley gently grabbed his mother's hand. "Mom. This is time for you and Dad. You don't need me hanging around. Besides, I have meetings set up that I must attend."

She sat on the large sofa in Stanley's villa, careful not to snag her dress.

"Meetings on how to give your money away."

He looked at her and smiled. "I enjoy helping others, Mom. It's probably one of my best qualities, next to my good looks – which I get mostly from you."

She smiled at her son. It was so difficult for her to stay angry with him. "I'll let your father talk some sense into you. Oh, by the way, you're sitting next to Sylvia Blass tonight."

Stanley frowned. "Really, Mom? Sylvia Blass? Out of all the people who are attending, you sat me next to her?

Claudia slightly inhaled. "What's wrong with Sylvia? She's one of my closest and dearest friends."

Stanley raised an eyebrow. "She's a bitch, and you know it. It wasn't that long ago that she published that story on Dad and…" He stopped.

Claudia smiled. "Water under the bridge. We mended that incident a long time ago. Sylvia can be a little much, but she's still a friend."

Stanley stood up. "Okay, Mom, I'll sit next to her and be nice. But I'm not staying the week. I leave tomorrow night."

She looked up at him. "Fine, Stanley. Why are you rushing off anyway?" He held out his hand and helped her stand up. "I have a new charity I want to check out. It's a homeless shelter. They do a lot of good and are in need of funding."

She sighed. "A homeless shelter?"

He walked her to the door. "Yes, a homeless shelter."

She stood in front of the door, blocking him from reaching for the doorknob. "Why can't you find a nice girl, Stanley? Really? A homeless shelter? You could be working for your father right now."

Stanley gently pushed his mother to one side and opened the door. "Now Mom, the last girl I brought home, you hated."

"I didn't hate her. She just wasn't one of us."

"You mean white, rich, and privileged?" he said sarcastically.

"Exactly," she said. "I don't have a problem with Black people, but you dating a Black woman?" "Well Mom, I'm the one doing the dating, so you don't have to do anything. We've been through this before. I date who I like, end of story."

She sighed, reached out, and kissed him. "I know, I know. Bye, darling."

He watched as his mother walked down the beachfront walkway and closed the door.

Sylvia sat alone at the table in the reception hall. The rest of the table guests were dancing. The air was full of energy and laughter. She watched people as they danced and laughed. She tugged at her white and gold dress and wished she were at home. She watched as Claudia and her husband, Jackson, worked the room. They smiled, shook hands, and posed for pictures with their guests. She was just about to get up to leave when Stanley appeared. He was wearing a tuxedo.

"Sylvia Blass, don't you look wonderful? Are you leaving?" Stanley said, startling her.

She looked up at him. He was so much older than the last time she saw him.

He sat next to her. "It's so nice to see you, Sylvia. I'm sure my parents are pleased you're here." He smiled at her.

She nodded her head. "It's so nice to see you, Stanley. You look very nice in your tuxedo." She leaned into him and gave him a slight hug.

"You look nice as well," he said, adjusting his tux. "Mom really knows how to throw a party," he said, looking around the room. "I'm sure she spared no expense."

Sylvia smiled. "Well, it has been 40 years, darling. That's a lifetime for some." She stared out into the crowd.

She turned back to Stanley. "So, I hear you've been doing a lot of charity work," she said.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm actually looking at helping out a homeless shelter. They lost their funding to buy a new building, and I think I can help."

"Really? A homeless shelter? Such a noble cause. So what, you just give them a check, and off they go?"

He looked at her disapprovingly. "It's more than just money," he said.

She turned toward him. "So then what is it if not money? I mean, yes, it does feel good to give back, but you can't give away all your money, darling," she said.

He smiled. "I enjoy helping people. If I'm able to help, then I will. I just happen to be rich, but rich or poor, my attitude would be the same. They're people. Less fortunate, but still people. Some suffer from mental illness, others just need a break. This shelter wants to help those who are sick, too. They'd like to have a small clinic. They had an uptick in those suffering from cancer and other terminal diseases. Those who could no longer pay for treatment lost everything. They still need care."

Her eyes widened. "Cancer?" she said.

Stanley nodded. "Yes, cancer. The shelter can provide access to health care, like hospice and other services. It's a great organization."

She sat for a moment and didn't speak.

"I'm sure this is something that doesn't interest you, especially someone who runs a successful fashion magazine. I'm sure trends and celebrities are more your interest," he said.

"I donate once a year to several organizations, Stanley," she said, defending herself.

"There are several organizations that need money and time. They need volunteers. People to get involved. I don't doubt you donate. It's a great tax write off. Look, I don't mean to be insulting, I don't, but there's more to life than being rich, white, and privileged." He looked at her and continued. "While my parents are out making money, I'm out helping those who are less fortunate. I enjoy what I do. The opportunity to help people."

She took a sip of her wine, and it moved down her throat into her stomach. She felt a little queasy but continued to smile. "How many charities do you work with?" she asked.

Stanley leaned forward. "Well, I just finished a big campaign with the American Cancer Society. I think with my connection with them, I can maybe bring some much-needed help to the shelter." Sylvia noticed Claudia and Jackson coming toward them. Stanley stood up and hugged his mother and father, then turned to Sylvia. "Hey, I was just talking to Sylvia. Mom, the room looks great. You really outdid yourself this time."

Claudia smiled and took her son's hand. "Well dear, after 40 years, what did you expect?" "I told her money was no object for this one. When we hit the 50-year mark, that'll be even bigger!" Jackson Roberts announced.

Sylvia smiled and chuckled. She wasn't feeling well. She wasn't sure if it was the cancer or anxiety. Either way, she didn't feel like herself.

"Stanley was just telling me about his charity work," Sylvia said.

Jackson frowned a little and said, "My son, the charity boss. I swear, Stanley if you put that energy toward my company, we'll double, triple our profits."

Sylvia gently touched Stanley on the arm. "Dance, Stanley?" she said.

He looked a little confused. "Sure. Mom, Dad, I'm going to take Sylvia out on the dance floor. Care to join us?"

"Oh, I need to check on the cake," Claudia said.

"Well then, that gives me time to make a call," Jackson said.

"You promised no work tonight, Jackson," Claudia protested.

"It'll only take a moment. Excuse me," he said and walked away.

Claudia watched him walk away. "That man. I swear," she exclaimed and headed toward a waiter.

"Shall we?" said Stanley to Sylvia.

She smiled and walked with him to the dance floor. He slid his hand around her waist and started moving slowly from side to side.

"You know," he said, "I was a little surprised to see you here. You know, with everything that happened."

"That was a long time ago. Me and Claudia have made amends."

Stanley continued to lead her as they danced. "You've made quite a reputation for yourself, Sylvia. I mean, you start off printing smut and gossip, and now you print fashion tips.���

She glared at him. "I mean, even after the article you ran on my parents, you did nothing. Well, not until you ran a story on your own mother."

Sylvia stopped dancing and looked at him. "People change, Stanley," she said in a huff and walked away.

Stanley stood alone on the dance floor, smiling. He watched her a moment longer, then headed toward the table.

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