“Why didn’t you stop us?”
“I tried. You didn’t listen. After a while, I realized you needed to believe I was struggling. It made you feel better about your own choices.”
Charles’s phone buzzed. He checked it and smiled.
“Miss Chin, the mayor’s office called. They want to confirm your attendance at the New Year’s charity gala. You’re receiving the entrepreneur of the year award.”
“The mayor knows her.”
Marcus’ voice was weak.
“Miss Chin is quite prominent in the business community,” Charles said. “She sits on the boards of three nonprofits, mentors young entrepreneurs, and has donated over $10 million to local charities in the past 3 years.”
“10 million,” Derek repeated numbly.
“The Grand Celestial also provides free venue space for charitable events,” Victoria added. “Last month, we hosted a fundraiser for children’s literacy. Miss Chin personally donated matching funds that raised over half a million dollars.”
My mother was crying now quietly.
“We’ve been horrible to you.”
“You’ve been dismissive,” I agreed. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” Derek looked at me. Really looked at me maybe for the first time in years. “Sophie, we’ve spent years making fun of your car, your clothes, your job, your life. And all that time, you were more successful than any of us.”
“Success isn’t a competition, Derek.”
“Isn’t it though? Dad always said.”
“Dad said a lot of things. Some of them were wrong.”
Marcus stood up, walking closer to me.
“Why are you here for Christmas? I mean, after how we’ve treated you, why spend the holiday with us?”
“Because you’re my family. And I kept hoping that eventually you’d see past your assumptions and actually ask about my life.”
“We never did,” my mother said.
“Not once.”
“No.”
A well-dressed couple approached the desk, clearly waiting to check in. Charles gestured to Elena to help them while he stayed with us.
“The grand ballroom,” Derek said suddenly. “I booked it for tonight for our family gathering.”
“I know. I approved the reservation.”
“You approved? Of course you did. It’s your hotel.”
He laughed. A slightly hysterical sound.
“I’ve been bragging about treating the family to a fancy dinner at the Grand Celestial. And it’s your hotel.”
“The ballroom looked beautiful when I toured it this morning,” I said. “Chef Michael has planned an excellent menu.”
“Chef Michael,” Amanda repeated. “The one with the Michelin star.”
“We were very fortunate to recruit him.”
My mother wiped her eyes carefully, trying not to smudge her makeup.
“Sophie, I don’t know what to say, how to apologize for years of…”
“Of condescension,” I supplied gently. “Dismissiveness, assumptions, all of that. You could start by asking questions instead of making assumptions.”
“What do you want us to ask?”
I thought about it.
“Ask me about my work, my goals, why I built this hotel, what I’m planning for the future. Ask me about my life instead of telling me what’s wrong with it.”
Derek stood up, walking to the massive windows that overlooked the hotel’s landscaped grounds.
“This is incredible, all of this, and we had no idea.”
“He didn’t want to know.”
He turned back.
“That’s fair. That’s completely fair.”
He took a breath.
“Sophie, tell me about the hotel. Why this? Why hospitality?”