Independently Wealthy: A Novel

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Independently Wealthy: A Novel Page 11

by Lorraine Zago Rosenthal


  Those days after Christmas were so crammed with Broadway and shopping and sightseeing that they flew by, and suddenly it was the night before New Year’s Eve and I was lounging in my living room with Mom and Tina. We wore our bathrobes, the lights on my tree were blinking, and I gazed sadly at the suitcases lined up by my front door.

  “We’ll be back,” Tina said.

  “In the summer,” Mom added.

  Mom and I were stretched out on the couch and Tina was on the loveseat. Each of us had a drink in our hands—apple cider with a hefty dose of Southern Comfort—and I nearly choked on the sip that was sliding down my throat. I knew Mom had enjoyed the past few days, but each night she seemed so exhausted by the traffic and the noise that I wasn’t sure she’d want to see New York again anytime soon.

  “Don’t look so shocked,” Mom said. “I like Manhattan—in small doses. So I’ll come up during the summer … and my Christmas visit can become a tradition, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Do you really have to ask?” I said, stroking my new necklace. It didn’t match pajamas, but it was too pretty to take off.

  She grinned while she stirred her drink with a cinnamon stick. “Being here makes me appreciate what you’ve done even more, Savannah. It isn’t easy to come from a quiet life to a place like this … and do so well. I’m very happy to hear you’re editing at Femme now.”

  “How is work lately?” Tina asked. “I mean … how are the step-devils treating you?”

  “Not all that devilish,” I said as I put my glass on the coffee table and sank back into the couch. “Caroline is really making an effort to get along. But Ned is so Jekyll and Hyde … nice one minute, miserable the next. I don’t think he’s doing well personally or professionally. The divorce seems to have made him kind of … unhinged.”

  “Well,” Mom said, “he’s probably in pain. The most important lessons tend to hurt.”

  I nodded, kicking off my slippers. “I’m sure he’s sorry for ruining his marriage … and I think he’s learned from that, but not as much as he should have. He’s involved with too many women … and not one of them is good for him.”

  Mom shrugged. “He doesn’t know better. But you do. So why don’t you help him?”

  “I’ve tried, Mom. I’ve talked to him, but it didn’t work.”

  “Try harder. Remember: Knowing what is right to do and not doing it is sin.”

  “James 4:17,” Tina called out, like we were on a game show. “I remember that verse from Sunday school.”

  “I do, too,” I said.

  Mom smiled again, and then she pulled a stray strand of tinsel off the couch and tossed it toward the tree, where it stuck on a branch. “I’m not surprised Ned is having trouble … between the divorce and the responsibility of running Stone News, he’s probably stressed to the limit. I’m sure it’s hard to handle that company as well as Edward did. Your father was a lot for a son to live up to.”

  That was another thing I knew. I nodded, thinking about Edward’s notes locked in my desk and the investigation I’d put on hold. But I didn’t let myself think any more about it, because the holidays weren’t over yet and I had to enjoy my last few hours with Mom and Tina. It was nearly midnight and they were going to catch a cab to the airport at six tomorrow morning. Alex had offered to drive but I wouldn’t let him because he was working late tonight, and Tony deserved some time off.

  “So,” I said, turning toward Tina, “are you really going to come back next summer … or will I be flying down to Charleston to celebrate your engagement to Bryce Newell?”

  She laughed. “I’m optimistic about a future with him … but I’m not rushing it. I want my college degree before my wedding.”

  “Smart plan,” I said. “Make that boy wait.”

  “Is that what you’re going to do to Alex?” she asked.

  I blinked. “What are you saying? There’s been no talk of marriage.”

  Tina shrugged. “I suspect there might be soon. A guy doesn’t pick up your mother at the airport, lug her suitcase around, spend Christmas with her, and buy something like that,” she said, pointing to my necklace, “if he isn’t serious.”

  “Tina’s right,” Mom said. “He’s twenty-seven and you’re nearly twenty-five … and even though people tend to get married later nowadays, a church could be where he sees things going by the time he’s thirty. What are you going to do if he gets down on one knee six months from now?”

  My eyes stuck on my flustered reflection in a mirror across the room. “I don’t know,” I said finally, looking at Mom and Tina again. “I’ve … never thought about it.”

  Tina lifted her high-arched eyebrows as she and Mom exchanged a glance that made me uneasy. I shifted on the couch and coughed and unclipped the barrette that held my hair in a pile on top of my head. I stuck the barrette in my pocket and started fiddling with my hair.

  “Darlin’,” Mom said, “in my opinion, Alex is a special young man. He’s handsome and considerate and sincere. But the fact that you haven’t mentioned a future with him to me or Tina … that you haven’t even thought about it … makes me wonder about your opinion of him.”

  “That fact,” Tina said, “and the cologne issue.”

  I stopped touching my hair and snapped my head in her direction. “What cologne issue?”

  She crossed her legs. “Girl, please. You don’t like the way he smells.”

  “I do like the way he smells … when he isn’t wearing that stuff his sister gave him.”

  “Right,” Tina said, dangling her slipper from her big toe, “when he isn’t wearing the cologne he wants to wear. Frankly, I thought he handled your pushiness about that issue with a saint’s patience.”

  “True,” Mom said.

  My body tensed. Why were they ganging up on me? And what were they trying to stir up here, anyway? Everything with Alex was fine, and I didn’t want to hear unfounded suspicions that it wasn’t.

  “You’re both creating a problem where there isn’t one,” I said. “Just because I haven’t thought about marrying Alex doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong … and the cologne, by the way, means nothing.”

  “Okay,” Mom said, patting my hand like she was trying to calm me down. “We didn’t mean to upset you. Tina and I think Alex is perfect … but we weren’t sure if you felt the same.”

  “Exactly,” Tina said. “You deserve nothing less than perfect.”

  Mom squeezed my fingers. “We want you to be happy … that’s all.”

  My neck was starting to ache. I bent it backward and forward and left and right before I took a deep breath and relaxed. “I know that’s what you want,” I said. “I do, too. Now let’s forget all of this and go to the kitchen. I bought a bottle of Cristal … and since you won’t be here tomorrow night, we need to do our New Year’s Eve toast now.”

  Mom slapped her thighs. “Good idea,” she said, standing up.

  We went to the kitchen, where I took three glasses out of a cabinet and the champagne from the fridge. I popped the cork, which flew across the room and knocked my spice rack off the wall.

  “That’s what we get for trying to be elegant,” Mom said as she laughed and nodded toward the champagne fizzing over my hands and dripping onto the floor. “When I was your age, I’d buy wine coolers from Publix for New Year’s Eve and think I was classy.”

  “Well,” I said while I filled our glasses, “there’ll only be truly classy New Year’s Eve toasts for us from now on.”

  Tina nodded. “To the best year ever,” she said, and then the three of us clinked our glasses as we stood in a very expensive puddle.

  Twelve

  It was after nine on New Year’s Eve when I stuffed some cash into my cabdriver’s hand. Taxis and limos were behind us, and they honked impatiently at the cars in front of them as yellow doors opened and people stepped onto East Forty-second Street.

  The air was freezing and the sidewalk in front of Cipriani was crowded when I left my cab and walked toward an
antique building that resembled a European cathedral. It was marble and stone, a majestic arch surrounded the entrance, and the arch was framed with carvings of flowers and nudes. Hovering above the revolving doors was 110 in gold numbers, as well as a window. Behind it was a celestial ceiling painted blue with gold stars.

  I pressed my back against the building and waited for Alex to arrive with Tony and Allison, watching a stream of dressed-up partiers flood through the entrance. Famous faces hurried by, and I squashed my urge to pull out my phone and snap pictures like I was part of the paparazzi. There were enough of those gnats around—including Fabian Spader, dressed in a plaid suit. He stood at the curb beside his photographer, who was blinding celebs with his flash.

  Fabian glanced at me. I gave him my dirtiest look because I’d noticed how hard he and his crony were trying to get up-skirt shots of actresses and models as they slid out of their limos.

  Fabian puckered his lips and sent me an air-kiss. I would’ve sent back my middle finger if I weren’t a lady. I ignored him and looked away, and soon a taxi’s back door opened and Alex came out. Semiformal attire was required for tonight, and he was dressed in a black coat with a matching suit and the aubergine tie that had been one of his Christmas gifts from me. His bruise from the subway station was completely gone, and he’d put on some Clive Christian. I smelled it when he met me at the building while Tony and Allison pushed through the crowd behind him.

  “You’re the definition of gorgeous,” I said as he leaned down to give me a quick smooch.

  Alex opened my coat and glided his blue eyes over my aquamarine necklace and my cocktail dress. The dress was glitzier than what I’d been wearing lately—one shouldered and form-fitting and covered in silver sequins—but it was also tasteful and appropriate for December thirty-first. I felt as glamorous as the divas strutting past, and Alex seemed to think I looked just as good. His eyes were craving as they lingered on me.

  “Very nice,” he said in his deep voice that gave me cravings, too.

  “Savannah,” Allison called as she and Tony swerved between people on her way toward us. They made it through, and she couldn’t have looked more thrilled to be here. “Thank you so much for inviting us,” she said, springing up and down in a pair of bejeweled pumps that were the perfect accent to her dress that was simple and sea-foam green. She pointed to the dress while Alex and Tony talked beside us.

  “I’ve had this thing in the closet for two years,” she said. “I wore it to my cousin’s wedding and didn’t think I’d ever get another chance to put it on.”

  “The color suits you. But I don’t deserve thanks … we owe tonight to Charlie Beckford.”

  She grabbed my hands. “Is that really true? It’s what Tony told me after Alex called and asked if we wanted to join you guys … but I thought Tony might’ve heard wrong.”

  “It’s true,” I said, shifting my eyes to a boisterous group heading toward the entrance. Right in the middle was Jackson Lucas, who turned his head my way. Our eyes locked, but not for long. I quickly looked back at Allison, wondering why I hadn’t considered that Jack might be here tonight. We seemed to travel in the same circles, even though I wished he’d move to distant ones. And I really hoped Alex hadn’t seen him. “Charlie,” I went on, trying to remember where I’d left off, “is dating my boss, and we’re going to be at his table.”

  Allison released my hands and held hers over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she said through her fingers. “That’s just too incredible. I watch him on ABN all the time.”

  “You and the rest of the country … that’s why his network is number one.”

  “Ladies,” Tony said, and Allison and I looked at him. He wore a charcoal-gray suit beneath his coat and was still standing beside Alex, who had his hands jammed into his pockets and steam floating from his mouth. “Are we going to stand here all night? It’s freezing.”

  I reached into my purse and pulled out our tickets, which I handed to everyone. Alex had just taken his when he sneezed twice into his sleeve. “Alex,” I said, “are you getting sick?”

  “No,” he answered, and sneezed three more times.

  I latched my arm around his. We followed Tony and Allison toward the entrance, where our tickets were taken before we passed through the revolving doors. Then we walked directly into the crowded party inside a room that was tall and wide and looked like a palace. There was a draped window at the far end, lots of columns between here and there, and elaborate archways all over the place. The lighting was spectacular—soft and expertly placed and the same shade of purple as Alex’s tie. The tables were round and had showy floral centerpieces, and Alicia Keys sang “Empire State of Mind” through a DJ’s speakers.

  “This used to be the Bowery Savings Bank,” Tony told us as we headed toward our table.

  “Is that right?” I said, and he nodded just as Alex let out four sneezes in a row. I found a tissue in my purse and gave it to him, and he wiped his nose before sneezing again.

  “It must be an allergy,” he said. “It started when I was getting dressed tonight.”

  “When you were getting dressed?” I said while we walked along. “What are you allergic to … your cuff links?”

  He laughed and then sniffed. “I doubt that. Don’t worry about it, Savannah.”

  “But we have to find the culprit. Did you use a new shaving cream?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Or maybe you need to ask your superintendent to clean the vents in your apartment. Dust can cause health problems.”

  “Actually,” he said, “it might be … the cologne you gave me for Christmas.”

  His tone was surprisingly meek. It made me stop walking.

  “You think so?” I asked.

  Guilt lingered on his face until he banished it with a smile and tightened his arm around mine. “No,” he said, “probably not. And even if it is … I’ll get used to it.”

  “What? Alex … I don’t want you to—”

  I didn’t finish. I’d lost his attention to a nearby table where there was a raucous burst of laughter and Jack was pouring Grey Goose.

  “Pretend he isn’t here,” I said, watching Alex’s mouth set into a firm line. “We can’t let him spoil our night, can we? He isn’t worth it.”

  Jack was absorbed in his entourage and his vodka, and he didn’t notice Alex glaring at him. But Alex held his stare until I tugged on his sleeve and repeated what I’d just said.

  “Forget him,” I added. “I have.”

  Alex looked at me for a moment, and then his mouth relaxed into a smile. We moved on and caught up to Tony and Allison, who had found our table. Six of the ten chairs that surrounded it were taken—two of them by Kitty and Charlie.

  “Hi, everybody,” Kitty said, popping up from her seat in a dress made of sepia satin.

  Charlie was beside her, and he looked as smashing as she did. His suit was dark and his tie was crimson, and he was friendly and charming as introductions were made and he shook hands with Alex and Tony and Allison.

  “I can’t thank you enough for sharing your table with us,” Allison said. “I’m sure you hear this constantly, but I watch your show all the time.”

  “So you’re the one,” Charlie said.

  Everybody laughed and I did, too, but I couldn’t let him be so self-deprecating. “We all know Allison isn’t your only viewer, Charlie. You’re crushing the competition.”

  “That’s for sure,” said a brunette seated at a table close by. “Are you going to find another network when your contract is up in June, or are you going to leverage your success at ABN to get another million or two tacked onto your salary?”

  I was dying to ask that eavesdropper who had invited her into this conversation. But Charlie handled it himself. He just smiled and said, “I’m exploring my options.”

  “Well,” Kitty said as the music changed to hip-hop with a Latin beat, “let’s sit down. They’re bringing the hors d’oeuvres around … and I could use another drink.”

  I leaned
toward her ear. “Do no-class people make you thirsty?”

  “Yes,” she said, glancing at the brunette. “I’m parched.”

  I laughed as we took our seats. Charlie sat to Kitty’s right and I was on her left, and Alex sat beside me while Tony and Allison settled down next to him. White-gloved waiters came by with a vast selection of appetizers, and everyone at the table snatched them up except Alex.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked after he returned from his third trip to the bar and refused another round of food. “There won’t be a dinner … it’s just hors d’oeuvres and drinks.”

  He leaned away from me and sneezed. Then he knocked back a Midnight Kick and reached for the SKYY on our table. “I’m okay with just this,” he said, filling his glass.

  I wasn’t okay with it. He was putting away too much alcohol on an empty stomach, and that worried me. But he wasn’t usually a big drinker, and I wanted him to have fun, and New Year’s Eve wasn’t the time to nag. So I didn’t.

  “Have you seen Caroline?” Kitty asked, talking over a song that was louder than the last.

  “No,” I said. “She’s here?”

  Kitty shrugged as she glanced around the room. “A friend of Trish’s from the art gallery invited them … Caroline said they might stop by.”

  I went back to the Emerald Breeze I’d been nursing as Kitty shifted her attention to Charlie. Alex visited the bar once more and returned with a Zombie that he drank too quickly while he talked with me and Tony and Allison. When his glass was almost empty, he leaned forward to swipe the SKYY again.

  “Let’s dance,” I said, seizing his wrist.

  He looked at the mob of people bumping and grinding and raising their hands in the air. “I don’t know,” he said, letting the bottle go. “That kind of dancing is for—”

  “Girls?” I asked with a laugh. “And men who aren’t as tough as you?”

  He smirked and threw what was left of the Zombie down his throat. “You said that … I didn’t. But why would you want to be out there, anyway? It’s packed.”

 

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