ALEC & SUSAN

Not One of Us

I smoothed my skirt for the third time, catching my reflection in the hallway mirror to make sure not a hair was out of place. Today was the day—Alec was bringing her here. After two years of dinner dates that ended before the check arrived, I held my breath, wondering which well-bred family this new girl hailed from. If she was worthy of my picky son, I might just have to invite her mother to join our ladies’ club.

That some girl had actually captured his heart seemed impossible; she had to be extraordinary. Heart fluttering with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, I stepped away from the bedroom mirror, determined to be waiting at the bottom of the staircase when they walked in. Susan, I reminded myself, tasting the name. It was a pretty name—a hopeful start for someone who was hopefully going to be around for more than just one meal.

Halfway down the polished mahogany staircase, I froze. Someone was sitting on my freshly cleaned cream-white sofa—a stranger, by the look of the cheap, frizzy ponytail—treating my living room like a cheap boarding house. As I hit the bottom step, she turned, her face bright with a servile grin that made my skin crawl. It was a maid, daring to sit on my furniture.

She started to speak, but I held up a sharp hand, cutting her off before her unrefined words could soil the air. I didn’t answer to the help. Panic bubbled into rage in my chest; how did she even get in here? "Get out," I spat, my voice shaking with a cold, sharp venom. She scrambled toward the door, and I followed closely, watching her dash toward my chauffeur, likely asking for a ride. "Don’t you dare," I snapped at him, loud enough to cut through the quiet driveway. "Put her in my car, and you're fired before she hits the seat."

I watched her scurry down the long driveway and out the gate like a terrified rabbit. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I whispered to myself, closing the door on her. Taking a breath to calm my pounding heart, I walked down the long, quiet hallway to the back patio. Through the glass, I spotted Alec and his father locked in a serious conversation. I walked over slowly, and when he turned, the sharp, cold anger vanished, replaced by the biggest smile just for me. He walked over, wrapping his arms around me, planting a soft kiss on my cheek that made the world feel right again.

"Hello, son," I cooed, smoothing my skirt as I scanned the hallway behind him. "Where is this mysterious girlfriend? You promised us an introduction today. Did she lose her nerve, or were you just teasing your father and me?"

Alec just smiled, that calm, infuriatingly patient smile of his. "No, Mom. She’s right here."

I furrowed my brow, glancing past him toward the empty hallway. "Where?"

"I left her in the living room while I came to fetch you both," he explained, starting to turn back. "Did you not see her when you passed through? No worries, I’ll go get her."

As Alec disappeared down the hall, I turned to Ronald, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Did you see who was sitting on the sofa? Some girl who looked exactly like a maid. I already told her to leave—she had no business in our living room."

Ronald blinked, looking genuinely perplexed.

"No, I didn't see anyone. The living room was empty when I came downstairs."

Alec burst back through the door, his eyes wide and scanning the room frantically before locking onto mine. He shoved his phone into his pocket, still staring at the screen as if waiting for it to finally show a missed call. "She’s gone," he breathed, the panic in his voice turning into a frantic sprint through the living room and out into the yard. I watched him confront Lance, gesturing wildly, before turning back toward me. His face was a mask of pure fury, a sickly shade of red, and his hands were clenched into tight, trembling fists.

He marched back in, the wooden floors creaking under his rapid steps. "Mom," he barked, his voice straining, "What did you do?"

I barely had time to move from the doorway before he was upon me.

"You chased Susan out, didn't you? How could you? She doesn't know this area! If anything happens to her, I will never, ever forgive you."

That girl? Susan? A cold knot formed in my stomach. "No… Alec, no. You wouldn't."

He paused, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You brought that… that stranger in here, left her alone in my living room," I stuttered, stepping back. "Think, Alec! What if she took something? She is not one of us, not good enough for this family."

Alec stared at me, his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Unbelievable," he whispered, a sharp, cynical laugh breaking from him. "I can't believe you are my mother."

"Ronald!" I yelled, glancing toward the kitchen. "Talk some sense into your son!"

Alec didn't even turn around. "Dad, I'm done. I will not be coming back to this house if Mom can't accept Susan. I love her, and she loves me. That’s final."

"Lance, let's go! Find her!" Alec shouted, his voice cracking as he scrambled into the backseat, abandoning the front door wide open.

I stood paralyzed on the welcome mat, watching my son dissolve into frantic hysteria over a girl who was utterly beneath him. He tore out of the driveway, leaving me with nothing but the echo of spinning tires and a silence that stretched for hours. My calls went straight to voicemail—each beep a fresh insult. Ronald actually had the audacity to suggest I was wrong to send that… creature… packing, but I refused to let some low-stature fortune hunter drag our name through the dirt.

"Ronald," I barked, not looking away from the empty street. "Call your son. Make sure he hasn't ruined everything."

"You better pray he finds her, and she’s in one piece," he snapped back, his voice colder than I’d ever heard it.

My heart finally began to calm only after I sent a conciliatory text to Alec—a strategic white lie—which finally prompted a return call. Once I confirmed they were together, I immediately picked up my phone to call my investigator. An illegal immigrant looking to play the lottery with my son’s inheritance? Not under my roof. He arranged a meeting for tomorrow. I couldn't wait to look this little simpleton in the eye, finally putting an end to this pathetic clawing for money and getting her out of our lives once and for all.

The audacity was almost laughable. To imagine that I, Annie Beck, would offer so much as a polite nod—let alone an apology—to a girl of such pedestrian intellect was a testament to her delusion.

After my little "chat" with Susan, she scurried away exactly as I expected, her eyes brimming with the realization that she didn't belong in our world. I watched her go with a cold sense of triumph; the infestation had been cleared. Alec, of course, reacted with his usual shortsighted fire, storming through the restaurant as if I had committed some grand betrayal. He is my son; I am the architect of his future. He simply lacks the vantage point to see the cliff I just pulled him back from.

A month of silence followed, a chilly void where his voice used to be. He blames me, clinging to the memory of that dim-witted girl as if she were a lost treasure rather than a weight around his ankles. Ronald warns me that the bridge is burned, that Alec’s forgiveness is a ghost I’ll never catch. But what does a man know of a mother’s protective steel?

My only son, bringing some… nobody… into my home. The audacity choked me. I would sooner burn my family crest than see her name attached to it. A timid knock echoed on my bedroom door.

"Come in," I snapped, smoothing my silk charmeuse midi slip dress.

Tamara poked her head in, looking polished and annoying. "Well, you look stunning, Mother."

"Thank you, darling," I said, my voice dripping with honeyed condescension. "Tell me, did you actually know about your brother’s... little situation? His new 'girlfriend'?"

"I met her at Alec’s place a few months ago," Tamara shrugged, strolling in. "I thought she was the cleaning girl. Mom, he can't be serious about her. She’s... a nobody."

"She was a nobody," I corrected, walking to my vanity and meticulously reapplying my lipstick. "She broke up with him, Tamara. It's over. I made sure of it." I caught her gaze in the mirror. "That little tramp will be deported so fast she won’t know what hit her. I have a PI following them, keeping tabs on Susan. If she steps one inch out of line, I’ll know."

The phone call came three days later. The private investigator’s voice was too calm. "Alec and Susan were at The Tropicana last night. They left together, ma'am. Spent the night at her place in Brooklyn."

My hand tightened around the antique phone, my knuckles turning white.

"They spent this afternoon shopping in Soho," he continued, pausing for effect. "And then, well, I followed them into City Hall. They just got married."

The world seemed to lurch. I didn’t hear the rest. "What?" I hissed, the silence on the other end confirming my nightmare. "Are you absolutely insane? Tell me you are lying!"

The taste of bile was consistent lately, a byproduct of Alec’s absolute betrayal of the family name. Married. To her. A girl whose entire existence was worth less than the soles of my shoes. I hadn’t just sat by, of course. A few calculated phone calls, a significant amount of money in the right hands, and the problem was already being disposed of.

When my PI called—just as I was taking my morning coffee—to confirm she was being picked up right outside Alec’s restaurant, I felt a familiar, cold satisfaction settle in my chest. Finally.

“You’re playing with fire, Annie.” Ronald’s voice came from the doorway, cold and warning. “You’ll lose Alec for good if you keep trying to destroy Susan.”

“Ronald!” I spat, turning so fast I nearly sloshed my coffee. “He married a worthless piece of trash, and you’re standing there acting like it’s a tragedy? How can you allow him to tarnish our name?”

Ronald sighed, that infuriating, calm look on his face. “Annie, Alec is a grown man. Whoever he chooses to be his wife, that is his choice. We should be happy for him.”

“Happy?” I laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Happy? He could marry a dog off the street, and it would be a better union than this. Susan is a plague.”

“Annie, that’s enough,” Ronald said, his tone turning dangerously low. “What has this girl ever done to you to make you hate her this much?”

I stared at him, refusing to let him see the tremor in my hands. “She existed.”

Seven days later, the phone buzzed, and the news turned my stomach: Susan was out on bond. The sheer annoyance of it was a physical weight, a buzzing in my temples that made me want to smash something. I stared at the papers I’d gathered—Alec’s lawyer trying to manufacture a legal lifeline for her to stay in the country. A dry, humorless laugh escaped me. “Keep trying,” I muttered, tossing the file onto my desk. I picked up the phone, dialing the few people I knew who didn't take no for an answer. By the time I hung up, it was done. Susan wouldn't just be gone; I was ensuring she would never set foot in this country again.