by Sophie Lark
“Oh?” Anika said. She was trying not to betray any emotion, but Gwen was too sharp for that.
“Yeah,” she said, giving Anika a meaningful look. “I don’t think Hannah would be too heartbroken if he moved on to someone else.”
As if to prove her point, the doctor came into the room to check on Hannah. He was on the young side of 40, with blond hair and a beard. Hannah cheerfully said, “Welcome back, Dr. Thor! You want a bagel?”
“You seem like you’re feeling better,” the doctor said, smiling.
“Honestly, this room is nicer than my apartment,” Hannah said. “I might stay here a few more days.”
As the doctor pulled back the blanket to examine her ankle, Hannah waited until he gently lifted her foot and then yelped loudly, making him jump.
“Just kidding!” she said sweetly. “They gave me OxyContin—it doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Your sister is trouble,” the doctor said to Gwen.
“Believe me, I’m well aware,” Gwen said, rolling her eyes.
“Weren’t you supposed to be off at seven?” Hannah asked, smiling up at the doctor.
“I was,” he said, carefully examining her ankle. “But I thought I’d stick around to do your cast. You can’t trust the afternoon shift—they get way too much sleep. It’s just unnatural.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” Hannah said. “I definitely think sleeping is overrated as a night-time activity.”
Gwen mimed a retching motion at Anika. Anika laughed softly and said, “She’s obviously recovering just fine. Hopefully that means she’ll be back at work in a few days to help us out with the awards dinner.”
“She will be,” Gwen said firmly. “Even if I have to drag her away from Dr. Dreamy.”
Assured that Hannah was on the mend, Anika headed over to the office, though it was Sunday. She knew that with Hannah laid up for the foreseeable future, she needed to get a jumpstart on the week’s work, particularly the preparations for the dinner.
It was an event they held every August for the year’s scholarship recipients who had successfully graduated from an undergraduate or master’s program.
Anika was particularly excited for this year’s dinner, as they had a record number of graduating students: twenty-six. Some of the students Anika had been working with for the last seven years, and she felt an intense sense of pride in their achievements.
She also had the paperwork to finish for their license renewal, and new content to write for the website. This kind of tedious, detail-intensive work was best done when the office was empty and quiet.
As she was working away on her computer, she saw a message pop up from Calvin. He must have had his own laptop open at home and noticed that she was accessing the system.
Anything wrong? he wrote.
Not at all, Anika said. Just getting a jump on the week.
After a pause, he typed, You need some help? I could come down?
No! she said. That’s really nice of you, Calvin, but just enjoy your weekend.
Alright, he wrote with apparent relief. I’m binge-watching Game of Thrones again with Joslyn.
You’re not going to freak out again about the ending, are you? Anika asked.
I’m still team Dany, Calvin said. That city had it coming.
Anika rolled her eyes and went back to work.
So the week went on, in great effort, with Gwen coming in promptly Monday morning, and Hannah arriving to cheers on Tuesday afternoon. After she finished regaling Calvin with a much-embellished version of events—in which she fell down a twenty-foot cliff and barely survived the journey down the mountain—she settled down to work admirably, catching up on a good portion of what she had missed.
Anika noticed that Hannah’s cast was indeed flawlessly wrapped, and that in between feverish bouts of typing on her keyboard, she was giggling and texting on her phone even more than usual. Anika also noticed that James didn’t pick Hannah up for lunch any of the days that week, though she didn’t comment on this to Hannah or Gwen.
That Thursday, with Dominic in a better state, Marco asked Anika if she would join them for dinner at Gallow Green, the rooftop restaurant of the McKittrick Hotel.
Anika dressed carefully. Though she’d known Dominic since childhood, she felt a strange sense of nervousness at joining him for dinner as his son’s girlfriend instead of merely his business partner’s daughter. She knew Dominic had a soft spot for her, but she felt somehow that she would have to impress him anew. She was almost more anxious than she would have been meeting someone entirely unknown.
She styled her hair in long, soft waves and wore one of her favorite dresses from the Bennet Knight line of three years past. It was simpler than many of her father’s designs, a perfectly-fitted gray-blue silk that she knew complimented her dark hair and blue eyes. She wore the earrings from her mother’s sapphire set.
Bennet was reading a book on the couch when she passed through the living area. He was aware of her plans for the evening, and Anika suspected he had been lying in wait to ensure she was dressed appropriately.
“Is that one of mine?” he asked, examining her closely.
She knew her father never forgot a single one of his designs. He would sometimes point out his own pieces as they walked down the street, commenting contemptuously if he didn’t approve of how they were paired, or lighting up with joy if he noticed a particular favorite, or something vintage he hadn’t seen in a long while.
“Yes, it’s yours,” Anika said. “I know how everybody at Bennet Knight likes to see them in the wild.”
“I don’t know if Dominic will recognize it,” Bennet sniffed. “Not without the P and L sheet stapled to it.”
“I don’t think that’s fair,” Anika said gently. “Dominic loves your work.”
“And what about you? You didn’t like anything from this summer’s line?” Bennet said, not mollified.
“This one’s my favorite dress,” Anika said simply. It was true, and Bennet was pleased at last.
“Well, you have good taste,” he said. “It’s a classic.”
Bennet could give no higher compliment. Despite her exasperation with her father, Anika couldn’t help feeling a flush of warmth from his rare approval.
There was more to come:
“You look beautiful,” he said gruffly. “Your mother would be proud of you. She’d be glad to see you like this: happy, in love, making a success of yourself.”
Since Bennet never talked about Eleanor if he could help it, Anika knew he had made this statement for her benefit. But she was uneasy, because she knew he didn’t see her work at Red Line as “successful.” She supposed he was referring to her relationship with Marco.
Not a romantic, Bennet viewed matchmaking like a feudal lord, as a way to make alliances and progress one’s standing. And apparently, he saw this evening as an important step toward solidifying her position with the Morettis.
“Good luck tonight,” he said, tucking back a lock of her hair that had fallen forward over her shoulder.
“Thanks, Dad,” Anika said quietly.
She took a cab to Gallow Green. Marco had asked her to meet them there, since he wanted to drive his father.
She took the elevator up to the top floor. As the doors slid open, she saw the space was more like a vast greenhouse than a restaurant. The paneled glass ceiling was strung with ropes of lights. All around the room and between the tables stood trellises, thickly carpeted with leaves and vines. Potted trees overhung the tables, and rows of lush green shrubbery formed the walkways for the waiters and the guests. Small lanterns glowed amongst the greenery, and candles flickered on the bare wooden tabletops.
Before she could finish giving her name to the host, Marco waved her over to their table. He had reserved the best spot, or perhaps charmed the host into giving it to him: a table right against the window, secluded beneath the boughs of a lemon tree, offering a stunning view of the sparkling lights of the city laid out below.
/> Dominic stood up to greet her, though Anika wished he wouldn’t—he looked gray and drawn, much thinner than the last time she’d seen him. But he was elegant as ever, his thick black hair combed back off his brow, and a silk square tucked in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. He took Anika’s hand and kissed her on both cheeks.
“So glad you could come, my dear,” he said warmly. “You look gorgeous as always.”
“She absolutely does,” Marco said, kissing her lightly on the lips and pulling out her chair for her.
“How have you been feeling?” she asked Dominic. She was afraid she could see the answer to that herself.
“My dear, there is nothing less interesting than another person’s health woes,” Dominic said. “Suffice it to say, I’m extremely glad to be here tonight.”
Dominic asked Anika a number of questions about the Red Line, and the upcoming celebratory dinner. He said he’d like to attend if he felt up to it.
They talked about Marco’s work as well—the celebrities he had locked in for the next round of advertisements (younger and trendier than the ones Dominic and Bennet had been wont to choose): Kylie Jenner, Zendaya, and Brie Larson. Marco also wanted to shift their focus from traditional advertisements in Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar, over to sponsored streetwear that would be deliberately photographed by paparazzi, as well as Instagram “candid” shots posted by the celebrities themselves.
“Whatever you think is best,” Dominic said placidly. “You’re in charge now Marco. I trust your judgement.”
Marco glowed with pleasure.
He had plans to open another retail store in Las Vegas, in the Crystals retail district, again to target a younger demographic.
Anika looked at Dominic to see how he would respond to this. She knew he considered Vegas tacky and gauche. He had always been protective of the refined image of Bennet Knight. But again, he only nodded.
“We have to keep progressing and improving,” Dominic said. “There’s growth and profitability, and there’s the moral side of things as well. We’ve stopped working with those unlicensed shops in Asia—we’ve got to keep on in that direction. Because it won’t be socially acceptable anymore, and also because it’s the right thing to do. Anika here, she’s always been a good influence on us. She was the first the voice that concern. She’s always been the warm heart of Bennet Knight, the one to remind us of our ideals and our responsibilities.”
He reached across the table to pat Anika’s hand.
“She’s a wonderful woman,” he said to Marco. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see you settling down. There was a time that I worried about you, son. You can’t be a great man without a great woman beside you. I don’t like to criticize your mother, but we were not good partners to each other. Neither of us, I believe, reached the potential we could have. I’m relieved to see that won’t be your fate.”
Marco squeezed Anika’s thigh under the table. As she looked at his happy, handsome face, she thought that perhaps they really could accomplish great things together. Marco was ambitious, and they were part of the same world. She had her own ideas for Bennet Knight, not that she had ever shared them with her father or sister. But she could share them with Marco.
For a moment, she could see their future laid out in front of her: bold, vibrant, full of achievement and every possible pleasure. But as she looked into his dark green eyes, she couldn’t be certain if he was envisioning the same thing.
The dinner went on in perfect accord. Marco looked happier than she had ever seen him, and even the fact that his father ate very little didn’t seem to trouble him.
As they finished dessert—a wickedly rich flourless chocolate cake which Dominic left untouched—Dominic thanked Anika again for coming to meet them. As they parted at the bottom of the elevator, he placed his hand on her cheek as if in blessing.
“I wish I could take you home,” Marco whispered in her ear. “But I have to see him safely home.”
“I know,” Anika said, kissing him. “I’ll see you on Saturday. I’ll come home with you after the dinner.”
“I can’t wait,” Marco said.
18
To Anika’s great surprise, Bennet and Stella decided to attend the Red Line dinner, something they had never done in any previous year. To Anika, this showed the lengths to which Bennet was willing to go to stay on her good side, now that he believed his fate rested in her and Marco’s hands. Perhaps Stella felt the same, or perhaps she simply couldn’t stand to be left out anything if her father was going.
They all rode to the dinner together, in a car Bennet had ordered. Her father and sister were far more polite than usual. Bennet even mentioned an article in the Times about the growing number of Red Line graduates.
“It’s good press,” he said. “This whole venture might all be paying off after all.”
Yet, somehow, it all rang a bit hollow to Anika. She couldn’t take any pleasure in her power over them, and she found that their approval didn’t bring the satisfaction she had always imagined it would.
“Mom’s set looks nice on you,” Stella said stiffly.
Anika was wearing the sapphire necklace and earrings as always.
“Thanks,” she said. “Do you remember when she used to let us put on all her pieces at once? With her furs and her heels?”
Stella actually smiled. “I was too old to be playing dress-up,” she said. But Anika could tell it was a happy memory for both of them.
“You lost one of her diamond pendants that way,” Bennet reprimanded Stella, “Probably fell down the heating vent, or else the maid took it when she was pretending to look for it.”
The smile fell from Stella’s face.
“Lena wouldn’t have done that,” Anika said.
“No matter how well you pay them, they’re never above taking something if they think they can get away with it,” Bennet said.
Usually Anika would have let this go, but she wasn’t in the mood to let that kind of statement go unchallenged anymore.
“But we didn’t really pay her all that well, did we, Dad?” she said coolly.
Bennet, never one to admit a point, switched effortlessly to another point of attack, “Why should we? It’s a job a trained chimp could do.”
“Lena was lovely,” Anika persisted. “She used to help me with my homework during her break time.”
Bennet looked like he wanted to press the argument—perhaps with a comment on how a chimp could also have completed Anika’s grade school homework without much trouble—but he swallowed his retort and began swiping through his phone as if too bored to even respond to her.
Under that cloud, they arrived at the banquet hall where the dinner would be held. It was less luxurious than the Red Line gala. The budget for the dinner wasn’t nearly as large, but Anika, Hannah, and Gwen had tried to make it as festive as possible with enlarged photographs of all twenty-six graduates, along with short bios describing why they had been selected for the program, and their various achievements to date.
The guest list was also less grand, comprised mostly of friends and family of the graduates, many of whom came from poor and broken homes. Still, everyone had at least an aunt, and uncle, a sibling, or a grandparent in attendance, and in rare cases, two happily beaming parents carefully dressed in their best apparel.
Hannah had set up an elaborate backdrop with black and gold glitter, and a massive banner reading, “Congratulations Graduates!” The attendees had lined up with their families so the photographer could take their pictures on his camera, as well as on their proffered cellphones. Other guests were sampling the hors d’oeuvres or getting a pre-dinner drink from the bar.
“I think I overdressed,” Stella said sourly, looking around at the motley crew.
Anika ignored her, leading Stella and Bennet to their table.
“I’ll come sit with you after I’ve welcomed everyone,” she said. “Keep an eye out for Marco, there’s a seat for him as well.”
Marco ha
d texted her earlier to say that his father wasn’t feeling well enough to join them, but he would be coming alone as soon as he wrapped up a few things at work.
Anika went up on the raised dais at the front of the room to welcome the graduates and their families. She tried to keep her remarks simple, since she knew everyone was there for the students and not to hear her talk.
“We’re so proud of you all,” she said. “And we can’t wait to see what more you’ll accomplish in the years to come! To give you a little inspiration, we’re going to have a couple of our most distinguished alumni come up to speak. But I know you’re all probably starving, so we’ll serve dinner first. Bon appetit!”
The catering staff began to bring out the first course, a harvest salad with roasted squash. Anika joined her father and sister at their table.
She saw that Aunt Molly and Liam had arrived as well, and that James was with them. She was surprised to see him, especially since he had apparently not come with Hannah, who was sitting alone at a different table with Gwen and Calvin.
Bennet was making awkward conversation with Liam. He seemed to think that as landlord, he owed his tenant a certain amount of friendliness. On the other hand, he didn’t like remembering the financial crisis that had led to his removal from the Hamptons estate. It had sparked a painful time-period for Bennet, one that had not yet concluded in any satisfactory way. Though Liam had been the reliever, not the instigator, of his troubles, Bennet nonetheless seemed to resent him.
Liam showed nothing but warmth and gratitude for the house, which he complimented in every way possible. Unfortunately the features that he most cherished were those that Bennet barely noticed: the grounds, the horses, and the greenhouse. Bringing up the parts of the house that Bennet actually missed—the billiards room, the sauna, the master closet—only reminded him of the amenities lacking in his penthouse suite.
Aunt Molly had similar luck with Stella. Though she tried not to show any favoritism between her two nieces, making conversation with Stella was like hitting a deflated tennis ball against a brick wall. She could swing with all her might, but every comment fell flat.
