“He might’ve been a stranger,” I said, feeling angry heat rise from my neck to my forehead, “but he was as much my father as he was yours. And you know a lot more about having an easy life than I do. I wonder if that’s why Edward didn’t leave you any money. Maybe he thought it would do you some good to find out what the real world is like. Maybe he thought having to earn a living would make you a better person.”
She bolted off the couch and clomped across the floor in her black hiking boots. I’d never seen anybody wear those ghastly things in July. Then she got so close to me that my back was against the door and her nose was an inch from mine.
“You don’t know anything about my father,” she said as a foamy bead of spit sprang from her mouth and landed on my cheek. “All he was to you was a fucking sperm donor. And if you stay in New York, it’ll be the biggest mistake you’ve ever made … trust me.”
My heart was thumping beneath my pink satin shirt. She stared at me like she was waiting for me to cower and cry and book the first available flight back to Charleston.
“I don’t trust you, Caroline. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m staying.”
She stormed off. Ned had been watching from the couch; he sauntered toward me as I wiped Caroline’s spit from my face with the back of my hand.
“My sister,” he said, raking his fingers through his wavy hair, “is a smart girl. She went to Harvard. She used to work for a public interest group, and she loved that job even though it didn’t pay much. Of course, money didn’t matter when Dad was alive … he subsidized everything to ease his guilt.”
“Guilt?” I said, confused. “About what?”
Ned ignored me. “Now that things have changed,” he continued, “Caroline has to pay her own rent. She won’t be able to travel as much as she used to, and she has to give up her job to work at Stone News. I’ve worked there since I finished my MBA, albeit in a much less time-consuming position. Still, I’m used to this industry … but it’ll be a rough adjustment for her.”
I supposed that was true. And even though most of Earth’s population has to pay rent and doesn’t get to travel much I still felt bad for Caroline. But it would have been easier to show her some compassion if she weren’t—as Tina would say—such a snotty B. “That was Edward’s decision,” I said, “not mine.”
Ned towered over me. His shoulders were broad and his features had turned stern and sharp. “Like I said … Caroline’s smart. You should take her advice and go back to the shithole you crawled out of. Nobody wants you here, Savannah. We can make your life quite difficult.”
He said the last sentence in a calm, ominous way that sent an icy shiver down my spine.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ned. I deserve to be here as much as you do.”
He stared at me for a moment before taking a step back and adjusting the diamond pin stuck through his silk tie. “That’s your choice. But if you think Caroline’s bad, you better stay out of my mother’s way. She wasn’t pleased to find out that you exist. In fact, she was goddamned furious. Can you imagine how it feels for a woman of the finest breeding to learn that her husband had a bastard kid with some slutty backwoods beautician?”
I wanted to yank the pin out of his tie and use it to slice his throat. “Don’t you ever disrespect my mother,” I said, standing on my tiptoes to get up in his face. “And get out of my apartment. Too bad Edward didn’t leave one for you.”
“Is that supposed to sting?” he asked, giving me a smarmy smile. “I don’t need an apartment, Savannah. My wife is loaded. We live in a lovely brownstone on East Seventieth that she inherited from her aunt before we were married. I’m partial to that side of town anyway.”
He walked out with a sickeningly self-assured swagger. I slammed the door behind him and collapsed into a heap on the glossy floor, where I stayed until I heard another knock. Even though this one was mannerly, I thought Ned and Caroline might be back for a second round of mind games. But it was just the doorman I’d seen downstairs.
“Package for Ms. Savannah Morgan,” he said.
I grabbed my purse so I could give him a tip, and then I took the delivery from him. It was just a thin envelope. “Thank you,” I said, slipping him a five.
He gave the money back. “That isn’t necessary. The messenger who dropped off the envelope wanted me to tell you this: Ms. Stark said you have unlimited access to the car service, courtesy of Stone News. Tony Hughes will be your personal driver. His direct number is in the envelope.”
So was a check for ten thousand dollars, made out to me. I discovered this after the doorman left and I opened the envelope as I stood like a statue in the middle of the living room, trying to figure out whether this was a nightmare or a dream.
Five
I couldn’t stand around. The Stone News Corporation was waiting.
I dashed into my bedroom and flipped on the clock radio as I stripped off my clothes and listened to a traffic report warning about road construction on the Cross Bronx Expressway and an accident inside the Holland Tunnel. After that, I went to the master bathroom and stepped into the shower, which was so much better than the one at home. This shower was made of tiny silver squares that sparkled beneath recessed lighting, and the water cascaded in a firm stream from a metal circle in the ceiling.
An hour later, my hair was done and my makeup was on and I was dressed in a suit I’d taken from my suitcase and wished I had time to iron. Then I called Tony, who pulled to the curb in front of my building while I waited on the sidewalk. He jumped out and headed toward the back door, but I got in his way before he could touch the handle.
“Mind if I sit in front?” I asked. “This isn’t Driving Miss Daisy.”
He smirked and opened the front door. “At least let me do this. You shouldn’t stop me from doing my job right, especially since we’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on. Ms. Stark said I’ll be driving you to and from work every day.”
I gave in and got into the car, and Tony sat in the driver’s seat beside me.
“When do you get off work?” I asked when he sped away from the curb. “I’m not sure what time I’ll leave the office every day, and I don’t want to call and bother you while you’re not on the clock.”
He shook his head. “It’s no bother. You’d be doing me a favor, actually. After six on weeknights and anytime during the weekend is overtime pay … so feel free to call whenever. I’ll probably be in the city anyway, driving some of the service’s other clients.”
“Oh,” I said, glancing at the picture of his daughter as it dangled from the ignition. “But don’t your wife and daughter want you at home at night and during the weekend?”
He turned a corner. “Sure. But they also know I don’t want them living in a cramped apartment for the rest of their lives. We’re saving for a house.”
I nodded. “I’m sure the sacrifice will be worth it, then.”
“I think so. I’d like to get a little place out in Nassau County where my daughter can have her own yard. And fortunately, my mother lives down the hall in our building, so we have a babysitter on call twenty-four/seven.” He stopped abruptly, like he was breaking Chauffeur Etiquette by talking about himself. “So … what will you do at Stone News?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but they must have something set up for me. Before we head that way, though … would you mind taking me to any bank that’ll let me open an account?” I said, and a few minutes later I was inside Chase Manhattan with my check while Tony waited in the car.
“I’d like to open a checking account and a savings account,” I told a woman behind a desk as I sat opposite her and explained how she should divide my money into each account. “I’ll take the rest in cash … thousand-dollar bills, please.”
Her tired eyes rose above her bifocals. “Thousand-dollar bills haven’t been printed since 1945, dear.”
“Is that so?” I said, trying not to sound as stupid as I felt. “Hundreds will be fine, then.”
The money
was inside my purse when Tony stopped the car in front of a massive skyscraper near Rockefeller Center that had a ticker spelling out the latest news in red neon letters. Headlines from Stone News, I read as I stared through the window at people rushing through revolving doors with Stone News Corporation carved into a plaque above them. There was also a line of protesters on the curb, chanting and holding signs that said Stone News Kills.
“What floor is it on?” I asked, my eyes gliding up and down the building.
“Every floor,” Tony said. “Don’t be nervous, Savannah. You’ll be fine.”
I grabbed my purse and a folder that held my résumé, which I’d printed in my office at the apartment because I thought it might be needed for my employment records. I clasped the folder tightly to my chest, trying to slow my heart.
“Who’s nervous?” I said as I slipped out of the car. “See you at five.”
I closed the door, and he drove away. I lingered on the sidewalk, listening to the protesters and the voice in my head. You can handle this. You can handle all of it.
I took a deep breath and marched past the picket line, through the revolving doors, and into the lobby, where I wondered if every woman who worked at a front desk in Manhattan moonlighted as an actress or a model. The glamorous girl in front of me looked that way, with her ash-blond hair and delicate features. She answered a phone while a hulking security guard stood behind her with his arms folded across his chest.
I waited until she hung up. “Excuse me,” I began. “I…”
She didn’t make eye contact. She took another three calls and then turned her attention to a man who’d cut in front of me.
“I was here first,” I said, but I was invisible. She answered the man’s questions and two more calls before she finally deigned to look in my direction.
“Now what can I do for you?” she asked.
“Forgive me for bothering you,” I said as sarcastically as I could, “but I’m starting my first day of work here, and I don’t know where to go.”
She breathed a long sigh. “You’re working in which division? Who’s your supervisor?”
The only people I knew at this company were Ned and Caroline, but I wanted to steer clear of them. “I have no idea. Somebody’s expecting me, though. Can you please call whoever’s in charge and say Savannah Morgan is here?”
“Just a minute,” she said, and took another call.
I checked my watch. It was after nine, and how unprofessional would it look if I was late on my first day? I kept trying to talk to the receptionist, but she pretended I wasn’t there until I slammed my hand on her desk and raised my voice. “Can you take a two-minute recess from whatever is so important and call whoever’s in charge of hiring people to let him or her know I’m here?”
She glanced at the security guard. He stepped forward, and then his massive hand was clamped around my arm and he was hauling me across the lobby.
“Get your paws off me!” I screeched as he shoved me through the revolving doors and onto the crowded sidewalk, where I lost my grip on my folder and my résumé fell out and drifted to the ground. “You’re clearly abusing steroids, sir. You’re also making a mistake. I’m Edward Stone’s daughter.”
“Caroline Stone is the only daughter I know about,” he said, “and you’re not her.”
My sleeve was wrinkled from all the manhandling. I smoothed it while I tried to catch my breath. “I’m his other daughter … from South Carolina.”
“Right,” he said slowly, and pointed to the street. “Take a cab to Bellevue. Maybe they can help you there. Just don’t trespass in this building again or you’ll find your ass in jail.”
He went back inside and I glanced at my résumé being trampled by a pair of stiletto heels. I crouched down to rescue it, but someone else was faster. She grabbed the crinkled paper, looked at it, and handed it back to me.
“So you’re Savannah.”
We were squatting on the cement. I took the résumé, straightened up, and she did, too.
“I heard what you were saying to the security guard,” she said as I looked at the shiny copper hair skimming her shoulders and her deep-set eyes that were the same shade of brown as mine. She seemed to be nearing her mid-thirties. She stood a few inches taller than me and was svelte and chic in a beige jacket with a matching skirt. “I’m so sorry about the confusion … my husband should’ve let the receptionist know you were coming.”
“Your husband?” I asked.
“Ned Stone,” she said as my stomach dropped and I feared I’d been lured into a trap by Lucifer’s bride. And of course Ned hadn’t let the receptionist know I was coming. It was probably part of his twisted plot to sabotage me. Or maybe he thought I’d run back to Charleston by now. “I’m Katherine … but everybody calls me Kitty. You haven’t met Ned yet, have you?”
“I sure have. He and Caroline made a surprise appearance at my apartment this morning.”
She cringed. “I didn’t know that. I assume they didn’t behave themselves?”
“You assume correctly,” I said.
She stared at me for a moment. “I apologize again, Savannah. Ned and Caroline don’t have much experience with things not going their way, and your sudden appearance has brought out the worst in them. But don’t take it personally … it really has nothing to do with you. It’s just the idea that Edward had more generosity toward a child he never knew than the ones he raised … it’s been devastating for them. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“Yes, I can. It’s already crossed my mind. But it doesn’t mean they can treat me like a…”
I stopped. She grinned. “A redheaded stepchild?” she said. “I agree. But I think they’ll come around eventually. As for me, I’m thrilled to have a new sister-in-law … especially such a beautiful one,” she said, her eyes moving around my face. “You resemble Edward, you know. You have his hair.”
She seemed too kind and sincere to be from the dark side. My wife is loaded, Ned had told me. Maybe he put on a nice-guy act to keep her fortune around. “Thanks for the compliment,” I said. “I’ve seen a picture of Edward online. Ned has his chin.”
“And his jawline … but that’s where the resemblance ends. Ned looks like his mother, and Caroline … well, she’s an original. Of all the kids, I think you favor Edward the most. Anyway … I hope nothing else you’ve seen on the Web about Stone News scared you too much. There’s a lot of mudslinging going on,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the protesters on the curb, “and the Internet can be a real sewer.”
“I don’t scare that easily,” I said, which was almost true.
“I’m happy to hear it. And I’m even happier that you’re mixing some new life into the gene pool. Now let’s go and get you started in the family business.”
Kitty hooked her arm around my elbow and led me into the lobby, where we stopped at the front desk. The receptionist and the security guard stared at me, and I stared right back.
“I realize you two were uninformed this morning,” Kitty said. “You should’ve been told about Ms. Morgan’s arrival. You also should’ve checked with somebody upstairs before you tossed her out into the street. She’s part of the Stone family now, and you’ll treat her with all the respect you give the rest of us. Understand?”
Damn straight. I’m part of the Stone family. I deserve to be treated with respect. Maybe you should’ve investigated my lineage before you got uppity with me, Bitchy Receptionist Chick.
I didn’t say any of that, of course. But I didn’t need to. The chagrined look on the security guard’s face and the irritated way the receptionist nodded at Kitty was enough for me.
“I’m glad that’s settled,” Kitty said, tightening her grip around my elbow. She guided me toward an elevator, we darted inside, and it raced upward. I smiled to myself, relieved that at least one living member of the Stone family wanted me around.
*
Kitty gave me a tour of what she said was the corporate division of Stone
News. The lobby looked like a living room, with lavish couches, elegant lamps, and an oil-color portrait of Edward Stone. She led me down halls with offices and cubicles, introducing me to secretaries and people with titles like GM and FCO, and then we were standing in front of a closed door that had a placard engraved with Edward Stone, Jr., Chairman & Chief Executive Officer.
“What’s he doing?” Kitty asked a dowdy secretary who sat across from the door.
“Talking to your college buddy,” she said.
Kitty twisted the knob. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said when the door opened into an office that could have doubled as an apartment. Ned sat leisurely at a wide desk in a stuffed leather chair while a woman who was blonder and even more glamorous than the receptionist downstairs sat opposite him. “It’s been a while, Darcelle. We’re due for lunch.”
“We sure are. You should come up here more often,” Darcelle said, springing from her chair to give Kitty a hug. “You’re as gorgeous as ever. And tan, too. Have you spent much time at your parents’ house in the Hamptons this summer? Or have you been too busy jetting off to the islands in your dad’s plane?”
“Neither,” Kitty said. “The magazine’s struggling, so I’m needed here.”
“I have no doubt that an editor with your talent can whip it into shape.”
“You’re a sweetie,” Kitty replied, and then moved her eyes between Darcelle and me. “Darcelle Conrad … I’d like you to meet Savannah Morgan, Edward’s daughter. I’m sure Ned has mentioned her.”
He looked out the window. Darcelle’s forehead creased. “No,” she answered, and quickly broke the awkward silence by giving me a firm handshake and a dazzling smile. “But it’s nice to meet you. Do you live in New York?”
“I just moved here,” I said.
“That’s so exciting. And what do you do?”
I glanced at Kitty, who snapped her head in Ned’s direction. He was still focused on the window and a foam rubber ball he’d snatched from his desk and was squeezing in his fist.
“That’s what we came up here to find out,” Kitty said. “Edward wanted Savannah to work at Stone News, and I’m sure Ned has made plans for her.”
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