Chapter 1

On my first day at the private society program, the receptionist checked the enrollment list, then stared at my canvas tote for a long time.

"Two years ago, the limited-edition handbag Mr. Lockwood bought for his mystery girlfriend made the society pages. You're really bringing this to class instead? Aren't you worried people will laugh?"

"I sold the bag."

"To buy another one?"

I shook my head.

"Grandma needed heart surgery last year. We were short twenty-six thousand dollars on the hospital deposit."

The receptionist's expression changed.

I awkwardly pulled the strap of my canvas tote higher on my shoulder.

Duncan had been overseas at the time, and I was afraid that waiting for Diana Cross, his executive secretary, to approve an emergency transfer would take too long, so I sold the bag.

I had only carried it once anyway.

A handbag sitting in a closet mattered less than Grandma getting her surgery.

The receptionist lowered her eyes to finish my registration, then told me there was also a six-hundred-eighty-dollar materials fee.

"Mr. Lockwood covered tuition. Jewelry appreciation, floral design, and formal-event training materials are paid separately by the students."

I opened my banking app. My balance was $11.70.

Ten dollars of it was set aside in my little budget notebook for Nell's meals.

I covered the screen with my hand.

"Can I pay next month? I can't touch that ten dollars."

Ms. Palmer happened to pass by.

She looked at the balance, then at my canvas tote.

"Duncan sent you here without giving you money for the materials?"

I hurried to defend him.

"Diana sends me five hundred dollars every month. I just didn't ask about the extra fees beforehand."

Ms. Palmer studied me for several seconds.

Then she told the receptionist to bring out the class samples.

"Start class today. The materials fee can wait. Don't touch your child's food money."

Our first class was called relationship-value assessment.

In plain language, we were supposed to explain why the person supporting our lifestyle should consider what we did worth paying for.

The woman beside me, Miranda Fox, went first.

Her monthly budget was forty thousand dollars, and all she had to do was attend two formal events a month. Birthdays were extra.

When it was my turn, I followed the worksheet line by line.

I took care of Duncan's grandmother, drove Nell to and from preschool, prepared Duncan's clothes and stomach medication, kept notes on his clients' food allergies and preferences, and picked out gifts for his relatives every holiday.

When I finished, Ms. Palmer asked, "And how much does he give you a month for all of that?"

"Five hundred dollars."

Someone in the back row blurted out, "Is that a housekeeper's salary or a snack allowance?"

Afraid they'd gotten the wrong idea, I quickly explained, "It's for living expenses, but the house belongs to Duncan, so I don't pay rent..."

Even Ms. Palmer went silent.

My face burned.

It wasn't because I thought five hundred dollars was too little.

I was suddenly afraid they'd see the real reason Duncan had paid for this class: I couldn't even handle five hundred dollars gracefully.

Before we left, Ms. Palmer wrote one sentence on my assessment sheet.

"Labor does not stop having value because the relationship is intimate."

I didn't fully understand it.

Duncan had told me before that I had no sense of money.

Diana had also said that aside from being pretty, I did nothing useful for him.

So if he was willing to pay for me to learn, I should be grateful.

That evening, we had dinner at the Lockwood family home.

I brought Grandma three boxes of the soft peaches she loved.

During dinner, Duncan's younger sister, Mallory, noticed the sale sticker on the packaging and laughed.

"Nora, you sold a handbag worth hundreds of thousands, but now you need coupons to buy Grandma fruit?"

"No. The grocery store discounted the total order. The peaches aren't spoiled..."

I stopped halfway through.

If I explained further, I would have to mention the surgery deposit.

Duncan's grandmother, Margaret, had dementia.

Her memory often slipped back decades, to the years when the Lockwoods had barely had enough money.

Everyone in the family silently avoided discussing the cost of her treatment because she'd start insisting she wasn't worth it.

My mother-in-law, Evelyn, heard my unfinished explanation and told the housekeeper to remove the peaches.

"A Lockwood daughter-in-law bringing discounted food into this house embarrasses Duncan."

I touched the edge of the fruit plate, then withdrew my hand.

Nell sat beside me staring at a bowl of white strawberries.

She looked at me first, then asked quietly, "Mommy, can I have one?"

I was about to take one for her when Mallory pushed the plate farther away.

"I bought these for Grandma. If you want some, tell your mother to buy them."

Nell immediately shook her head.

"I was just asking. I don't like strawberries."

I looked down and wiped a tiny oil stain from her sleeve.

I couldn't bring myself to meet her eyes.

Duncan video-called just then.

Evelyn immediately complained that I was cheap.

He had just landed in Ashmoor and looked exhausted.

But he didn't scold me.

He only said, "Don't cut corners on household expenses.

"If you need more money, talk to Diana. Don't let Nell go without."

My eyes suddenly stung.

I had just opened my mouth when someone on his end called him into a meeting.

The call ended.

I followed Diana into the parking area.

She pulled three ten-dollar bills from her wallet and handed them to me.

"Mr. Lockwood is dealing with multibillion-dollar acquisitions. Don't bother him with fruit, meals, and other household trivia.

"This is also next month's money in advance."

I clutched the three bills and quietly thanked her.

On the ride home, Nell rested her head on my shoulder.

"Mommy, can thirty dollars buy white strawberries?"

I hesitated.

"After we buy Great-Grandma's medicine, I'll get some for you."