A Bitter Case of Mistaken Identity

SLOANE

"A welcome party?" I demanded, pressing my cell phone tightly against my ear. My mother’s soft chuckles echoed through the line, taking far too long to answer. "I thought you said it was a business party. What changed? Do I have to review another guest list?"

I had worked on the list last night and emailed it back to her, only to have her call me with a sudden pivot.

"Yes, darling," she