“Princess Marah,” as the girls at school had always called her, faithfully preached the gospel of thin, rich, and beautiful. She felt she had everything, and most people, looking at her, felt she did, too.
To top things off, Marah Prince, heiress, was cheap. You’d lose the skin off your fingertips trying to pry a nickel from her hands, even if you could prove she owed it to you.
Marah considers regular attendance at Marah Largo to be an important part of her role in Washington, D.C., society. She insisted that Helaina create business cards for her, complete with a job title and a phone number that is answered by a secretary assigned only to Marah. As Ysabel pointed out, “Sometimes, when the stakes aren’t very high, it is better to humor Marah than to oppose her.”
Marah’s best friend within the Priya Club is Zara Kane.
It is one of life’s ironies that Marah reached the pinnacle of modern fine living not on her own merits, but on the humble shoulders of her motivated and hard working ancestors. People that, today, she would not acknowledge on the street, much less invite to dinner.
When she wakes each morning, Marah has nothing to do for herself, create for herself, or prove to herself. She does not have to earn her survival, or face the fears of job insecurity, or strain against the pressures of mounting debt.
Marah either left or was kicked out of every school she ever attended. By the end of her junior year of high school, she had exhausted all of her options. (At least, those she was willing to consider.) She ended up being prepped for the GED Exam by a series of hired tutors. She did not pursue higher education.
Keep an eye on this space for hints about the thrills in Marah’s story.
Keep an eye on this space for hints about the love in Marah’s story.
Helaina Karras owns “The Darlings,” a fleet of restaurants she designed that incorporates the particular lifestyles and favorite foods of the Priya Club members. Each woman eats and drinks for free at her namesake establishment.
Marah Largo is furnished in the opulent style of a turn-of-the-20th-century club. The table settings drip with expense, and so does the menu. When you scan the crowd, there isn’t a T-shirt, or a pair of flip-flops or jeans in sight. By design, this restaurant is a sanctuary for the old-schoolers, the people who crave elegant dinner attire, a refined palate, and fine table manners from their fellow patrons.