Meanwhile, a blueblood with dwindling fortunes begins the hunt for a suitable husband. Thirty-five years old and as wealthy as sin, George was married to his job. Nothing gave him more pleasure than raking in more money. He wasn’t born poor neither was he born rich. His father had been a hardworking businessman who could provide just enough for his family to keep them comfortable. George and his brothers had never gone to bed hungry, lacked clothes or a little spending money. Everybody except George was satisfied. George had never been one to give life so much credit. He was an overachiever, who always yearned to be part of something bigger. George was his mother’s child. Recently, dinner at Milly’s Palace, as his mother loved to call the home George had given her as a birthday present, had become more work than sealing business deals. The ever-magnificent Millicent had gotten into the new found habit of trying to hook George up with blue bloods.
