Whenever I wore the dress, I remembered her standing behind me in the mirror and telling me never to measure my worth by another person's approval.
That memory was especially comforting at gatherings where people seemed determined to announce their importance before anyone had even asked their names.
I adjusted the delicate fabric near my waist and took another slow sip of sparkling water.
Somewhere behind me, a burst of laughter rose above the music, followed by a woman's bright, theatrical voice.
I didn't turn around immediately because I already recognized the sound of someone performing for an audience.
When I finally glanced over my shoulder, I saw a striking blonde woman wearing a silver sequin gown that captured every reflection from the terrace lights.
Her lipstick was flawless, her diamond earrings shimmered extravagantly, and her posture suggested that she expected the room to rearrange itself around her.
That woman was Chloe Bennett.
I had noticed her earlier because she seemed to be everywhere an important conversation was taking place.
If an investor laughed, Chloe laughed louder, and if an influential executive moved toward another group, she somehow appeared beside him moments later.
Her movements were practiced rather than spontaneous, and I could almost see her calculating the value of every person she approached.
There was nothing wrong with ambition, of course, because I respected people who worked hard and refused to surrender their dreams.
What concerned me was how quickly Chloe's warmth disappeared whenever she encountered someone who couldn't immediately advance her career.
I first noticed it when a young waitress approached her carrying a tray of drinks.
The waitress couldn't have been much older than twenty-three, and she balanced the heavy silver tray with the tense concentration of someone determined not to make a mistake.
Chloe selected a cocktail, examined the glass, and wrinkled her nose as though someone had handed her something unpleasant.
"Is this really how they're serving the signature cocktails tonight?" she asked.
The waitress nodded politely and explained that the bartender had prepared them according to the hotel's special menu.
Chloe gave a dismissive laugh and turned toward the businessman standing beside her.
"I suppose standards aren't what they used to be," she remarked.
The waitress lowered her eyes and moved away without answering.
I watched the young woman's shoulders tighten as she passed my table, and something about her expression reminded me how exhausting it could be to remain polite while someone deliberately made you feel small
"Are you all right?" I asked when she stopped to collect an empty glass.