The invitation arrived on a Tuesday.
Gold lettering on cream card stock, the kind of paper that communicated importance through the physical weight of it rather than through anything it said. I had received invitations like this during my years as Mrs. Tobias Prescott, when the social calendar had been my professional responsibility and attendance at the right events had been part of the role I had agreed to perform.
I was no longer performing anything.
I set the invitation on the desk beside the Eleanor Harrington files and the Knight company archive and the legal brief I was preparing for the Prescott Foundation restructuring and I looked at it for a moment before opening it.
The Malibu Coastal Conservation Gala. Black tie. The Prescott Media Center, which had been renamed after the
