Chapter 7 - The Masks Slip Away
The entire marina went dead silent. The only sound was the cry of a distant seagull and the rhythmic slap of water against the wooden pilings. Derek stared at me as if I had suddenly sprouted wings. Brittany dropped her expensive designer sunglasses onto the dock, the dark lenses clattering against the wood.
"What did you just say?" Gerald whispered, his voice trembling violently. "Miss Patterson? Maya?"
"Yes, Mr. Patterson," James replied, his tone devoid of any warmth. "Miss Maya Patterson is the majority shareholder of Sinclair Hospitality Group, which owns the Grand View Resort, its private marina, and all maritime vessels attached to this property. She is the legal owner of The Sovereign."
"No... no, that can't be true," Derek stammered, shaking his head frantically. "She's a preschool teacher! She drives a ten-year-old Subaru with a dent in the bumper! She buys her groceries with coupons! You're lying! This is some kind of sick joke!"
I took off my sunglasses and looked directly into my brother's terrified eyes. "I drive a Subaru because it's reliable, safe, and gets me to work through the winter snow, Derek. I teach preschool because building children's character matters to me far more than building an empty ego. My grandfather Arthur Sinclair knew that true wealth isn't about bragging or putting other people down. That's why he placed the controlling interest of Sinclair Holdings in my trust, while leaving Dad only a modest advisory stipend."
Gerald’s face transformed through three distinct shades of red before settling into an ashen grey. "Arthur... Arthur gave it to you? All of it?"
"He gave it to someone who wouldn't spend sixty years exploiting his family's name for cheap vanity," I replied calmly.
I turned toward Grandma Evelyn and Grandpa Richard, who were watching the entire scene with quiet understanding. Grandpa Richard leaned on his cane and smiled warmly, a twinkle in his tired eyes. He had known Arthur Sinclair well; they had been friends long before their children ever met.
"Grandma, Grandpa," I said, walking over and taking their hands. "Would you like to come aboard for your anniversary cruise? The captain has prepared an afternoon tea with fresh scones and your favorite wild blackberry jam."
"We would love nothing more, sweetheart," Grandma Evelyn said, her voice rich with pride.
As I helped my grandparents up the gangway, Brittany suddenly rushed forward, her previous sneer replaced by an agonizingly fake, desperate smile. "Maya! Oh, sweetie, we were just joking earlier! You know Derek and I have the weirdest sense of humor. We were just teasing you about the car! Of course you're amazing! Can we come aboard too? I’ve never been on an eighty-foot yacht before!"
Derek followed close behind his wife, nodding eagerly like an obedient puppy. "Yeah, Maya! We're family! Blood is thicker than water, right? Let bygones be bygones!"
I stopped at the top of the ramp, looking down at the two of them. The memory of Derek mocking my simple dress, and Brittany laughing at my presence only twenty-four hours earlier, echoed clearly in my mind.
"I’m sorry, Brittany," I said with cool, unwavering composure. "As you pointed out yesterday, my presence might make you feel uncomfortable. And given that this yacht costs significantly more than five hundred dollars an hour before maritime fees, I wouldn't want you worrying about how it's being paid for."
May you like
I looked at the deckhands standing by the moorings. "Cast off the lines, please."
The heavy lines splashed into the water, the diesel engines rumbled to life with a deep, authoritative roar, and The Sovereign glided effortlessly away from the dock. Behind us, standing in the blazing afternoon sun, Gerald, Derek, and Brittany watched helplessly as their grand illusions drifted away across the open water.
