She then handed the baby over to me, saying, “Come on, godmother, hold the baby. I’m sure you’ve brought a generous gift for him.”
Her husband, John, followed her closely, pretending to scold Jane.
“She’s still working on her PhD. It’s not easy to save up. Don’t make her spend more than she can afford.”
“That’s right, I’ve been barely scraping by lately,” I jumped in, handing Jane the toy I had prepared.
The smile vanished from her face as she questioned me, “Weren’t you going to give my son a solid gold rattle?”
I sneered, “You’re so rich, and you still expect me to give your son a gold rattle? Doesn’t seem right.”
She immediately frowned. “If you weren’t going to give it, you shouldn’t have promised in the first place. It’s really tacky to say one thing and then back out.”
I resisted the urge to slap her. Ever since she got married, it’s been one occasion after another – childbirth, baby showers, birthday parties. Each time, she would outright ask me for gifts.
When she had her third child, I gave her a large cash gift, followed by an expensive designer bag while she was recovering. Before the baby shower, she even hinted that I should get something extravagant, like a solid gold rattle.
And all of this was while she had no clue if I was actually well-off.
Jane’s demands were ridiculous.
It was as if I was a perpetual fool at her disposal.
We were about to start arguing when the event host called Jane up to the front.
She strutted up in her high heels, dressed to the nines, linking arms with her husband as they stepped into the spotlight.
After a few brief words, she rushed over to invite John’s boss, who was sitting at the head table, to give a speech.
When I saw who it was, I couldn’t help but laugh. It was Frank Stone, the general manager of one of my subsidiary companies.
Jane grabbed the microphone and called me up to the front.
“And now, let’s welcome my best friend, Bree!”
My mind flashed back to the message Jane had hastily retracted yesterday:
[Tomorrow, I’m setting Bree up with a balding old man. This is going to be hilarious. You guys better show up!]
I glanced at Frank, who was indeed the “quality man” Jane had mentioned.
As I walked onto the front, Jane leaned in close and whispered, “Bree, this guy is my husband’s boss. He’s got a house, a car, and a kid. You’d be set as a mom with no hassle.”
The closer I got, the more visibly uncomfortable Frank became.