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Chapter 303:
🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙
Hey babe! Big baby shower for Charlotte Van der Woodsen at the St. Regis this afternoon. You have to come! I know you’ve been through hell, and I feel awful for being stuck launching the London office for the last six months, but I’m back now. You need to get out, show your face, and remind these people who you are. It’s going to be the event of the season. Details attached.
Elisa smiled. Maeve was a good friend, and a distraction sounded nice. A room full of powerful women, champagne, and tiny shoes — it was exactly the kind of normal, civilized afternoon she needed after the chaos of the past week.
She dressed carefully — a simple, elegant cream dress that whispered money without shouting it — and took a car to the St. Regis.
The hotel was a hive of activity. The ballroom was draped in white silk and overflowing with tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of white peonies. The guest list was a who’s who of New York society.
Elisa walked to the check-in table, feeling a rare moment of relaxation. The woman behind the table, a young assistant with a headset, scanned the list without looking up.
“Name?” the assistant asked.
𝘑𝗼𝗂𝗻 𝘁h𝗈𝘶ѕa𝘯𝗱s о𝖿 f𝖺𝗻ѕ on 𝗴a𝘭𝘯ove𝗅ѕ.с𝘰𝗆
“Elisa Wilder,” Elisa said.
The assistant’s finger scrolled down the iPad. She stopped, her brow furrowing, then looked up at Elisa with a polite, slightly confused smile. “Oh! You must be Ms. Sinclair’s assistant. Right this way, please. The staff entrance is through the side door.”
Elisa froze. “Ms. Sinclair’s assistant?”
“Allena Sinclair,” the assistant clarified, gesturing to the side. “The VIP lounge is for guests only, but we have a designated area for personal staff.”
The cold, sick feeling of humiliation washed over Elisa. She was on the list — but not as a guest. She was listed as the assistant to her husband’s mistress.
Before she could respond, a frantic voice called out. “Elisa! Oh my god, you made it!”
Maeve Kearney rushed over, looking stunning in a pink suit, but her face was a mask of horror. She grabbed Elisa’s arm and pulled her away from the desk, into a quiet alcove behind a massive floral arrangement.
“Maeve, what is going on?” Elisa asked, her voice tight. “Why am I on the list as Allena’s assistant?”
Maeve pressed a hand to her forehead, her eyes squeezed shut. “I am so, so sorry, Elisa. I don’t know what happened. This feels… deliberate.”
“What do you mean?”
“My new assistant swears she listed you under my name as a VIP guest,” Maeve said, opening her eyes, her expression agonized. “But the final list that went to the hotel — something changed. Allena’s team was also cc’d on the final coordination. I don’t know how, Elisa, but this has their fingerprints all over it.”
Elisa understood instantly. This wasn’t a mistake. It was a message — a public shaming orchestrated with cruel precision.
“It’s fine,” Elisa said, her voice hardening. “I’ll leave.”
“No!” Maeve grabbed her arm. “Don’t leave. If you walk out now, it’ll look like you were thrown out. It’ll be all over Page Six by tonight. ‘Chambers’ Ex Flees in Tears from Allena’s Party.'”
Elisa hesitated. The thought of giving Allena that satisfaction was unbearable.
“And besides,” Maeve lowered her voice, her eyes darting toward the ballroom, “they’re here. August and Allena. They just arrived. Everyone is treating them like royalty.”
.
.
.