New Money

by Lorraine Zago Rosenthal

  As if he needed to apologize for how he looked. And now that I thought about it, Tony and I actually were a little early. Alex invited us to wait inside while he got cleaned up, and a few minutes later Tony and I sat across from each other in the living room as we listened to a shower running down the hall.

  Tony shifted in his chair. The plastic covering the cushion squeaked. “I like this,” he said. “You and Alex, I mean. I approve of the situation.”

  I took off my hat, put it on my lap, and combed my fingers through my hair, hoping the humidity hadn’t wilted my curls. “That’s good to know, Dad. I’m sure Alex will ask you for my hand in marriage very soon.”

  “Don’t crack wise with me, young lady. I’m just saying that Alex is the sort of person I can see you with. He’s a good guy. I’ve known him for a few years … he’s the cage fighter I mentioned.”

  “Cage fighter?” I said. “He’s a bartender … and an aspiring actor and writer.”

  “He is … but he fights on the side. Well, he used to, that is. He stopped about a year ago. Did you notice that scar on his stomach? It’s from his last fight. He got kicked so hard that it ruptured his spleen.”

  I winced. “Is that why he stopped fighting?”

  The pipes creaked when the shower shut off. We knew Alex could probably hear us now, so we stopped gossiping. And a few minutes later, he was in the living room, dressed in tan pants and a black polo shirt, smelling of soap and aftershave and a masculine musk that made me want to tear off his shirt and kiss his scar.

  “Are you ready?” I asked demurely, clutching my hat.

  He nodded, and then I put the hat back on and we sat together in the rear of the sedan while Tony chauffeured us to Windmill Lane in East Hampton and left us at a huge house on a sprawling piece of property that was surrounded by cherry trees and had a curving gravel driveway crammed with expensive cars. The roof was peaked and it had four chimneys, and inside were soaring ceilings and French doors through which I saw a kidney-shaped pool and a big tent set up in the backyard.

  “Savannah,” Kitty said, weaving through the crowded living room as she headed in my direction. Her red hair had been ironed stick straight, and she wore her eternity-ring necklace with a white sundress. “I’m so glad you came,” she said before moving her eyes toward Alex. “But this isn’t Tina.”

  I felt him tense up beside me. “This is Alex,” I said. “He’s—”

  “An amazing bartender,” Kitty said, giving him a smile. “Welcome to my party.”

  We followed her outside and into the tent, where there were twenty tables draped in ivory cloth and a cocktail hour was in full swing. People filled their plates from a buffet and a live band played the kind of music I’d heard at the club on Murray Street with Jack.

  Some of the guests were talking to Fabian Spader as he stroked his strawberry-blond hair, and his sidekick photographer snapped pictures of them with a blinding flash. Alex took a glass of wine from a waiter while I sampled caviar on toast and decided that Tina was kind of narrow-minded, because it didn’t taste all that bad.

  Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around and saw my reflection in cat’s-eye glasses.

  “What do you think this is?” Caroline asked. “The Kentucky Derby?”

  I tried not to let her snarkiness bother me. Someone who chose to pair a denim miniskirt with combat boots and wear them to a birthday party was in no position to criticize.

  “Ladies can wear hats indoors,” I said. “Gentlemen must take them off.”

  She rolled her eyes at my etiquette lesson and gave Alex the once-over. “Unwise choice,” she said, like he couldn’t hear. “Does my brother know?”

  I shrugged, thinking about my verbal contract. “Ned won’t say a word.”

  “Oh, really? Let’s see about that,” she said, turning away and swerving through the crowd of guests, most likely searching for Ned so she could tattle on me. I watched as she found him standing in a corner with Virginia.

  “What’s going on?” Alex asked.

  I kept my eyes on Caroline, who whispered in Ned’s ear while Virginia gave me a chilly glare. “Nothing,” I said, relishing the childish crankiness on Caroline’s face when she stormed away from Ned and disappeared into the house, nearly crashing into Ainsley and a silver-haired man who was probably her father. I recognized him as the speaker at the gala who’d commemorated Edward Stone. An attractive woman with long curly brown tresses followed Caroline inside, and I turned toward Alex. “She’s rude. Ignore her.”

  “You should, too. I think your hat’s adorable. And so are you.”

  I wanted to say the same, but I didn’t. I just smiled, took his hand, and led him to a table where we ate dinner while a singer crooned an Ella Fitzgerald tune as the sun faded from the sky.

  “How’s the writing coming along?” Alex asked.

  It was getting dark, waiters were serving cake, and candlelight flickered against Alex’s face. “I’ve been slacking since I arrived in New York. And you?”

  He sat back in his chair. “Another submission was turned down. I also didn’t make it past the first round of an audition for a small part in an independent film. I’ve been through so much rejection that I’m close to giving up.”

  “You can’t. I felt like that once, too, but everything changed in a second. You never know when things might get better. You just have to hold on until it does,” I said, and even though Alex smiled, I felt my cheeks flush. I’d meant what I said, but I sounded as rah-rah as Ainsley. I cleared my throat, a waiter slid slices of cake in front of us, and then I went back to our original topic. “Do you have much time to write?”

  He sipped his coffee. “Not as much as I’d like. Work keeps me busy.”

  “Is that why you quit cage fighting?”

  He put his cup down. His whole body stiffened. “How’d you know I used to fight?”

  Dishes shattered. A tray rolled along the floor and stopped at my feet. I glanced across the tent, where a waiter was apologizing to a table of guests as he crouched down to the floor. Then a tall man with blondish hair got out of his seat, squatted beside the waiter, and helped him pick up shards of porcelain and forks smeared with vanilla icing. The light in the tent was so dim that it took me a moment to realize the man was Jack, whose eyes connected with mine.

  “Savannah,” Alex said. “What’s wrong?”

  I turned toward him, feeling flustered and dizzy and very, very guilty. My pulse shouldn’t have been racing for Jack when I was with Alex. Besides, Jack had probably forgotten about me anyway and was back to courting European models.

  “Everything’s fine,” I said, snapping out of my daze. I took off my hat and set it on an empty chair. “You asked how I knew you used to fight, and … Tony told me.”

  Alex’s face was straight and serious. “What else did he tell you?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Why? Is cage fighting illegal or something?”

  He shook his head as his body relaxed into his chair. “It is in New York, which is why I did it in New Jersey. But then I just … wasn’t interested anymore.”

  I nodded. “So how’d you get into it in the first place?”

  He chuckled. “When your father’s an ex-boxer and has three sons who play football and one who aspires to join the drama club and write novels … you get pushed into more traditionally masculine activities.”

  I laughed, too, and a few minutes later I excused myself and went into the house, which was empty except for the catering staff washing dishes in the kitchen. I stuck my head through the doorway to ask for directions to the bathroom, and a pudgy woman at the sink told me it was down the hall and on the left.

  The only problem was there were three doors on the left, each made of dark wood with a crystal knob. I opened one, but the bathroom wasn’t inside. This room was a study that was faintly lit by the moonlight streaming into the windows. I squinted through the shadows at dark walls and photos on a fireplace mantle, and then I saw a wall made entire
ly of shelves that contained only leather-bound books.

  They seemed to be antiques and I knew I shouldn’t snoop, but antique books fascinated me. So I closed the door and crept across the room, where I ran my finger along a row of gilded hardbacks. I had just pulled one out when the door opened and Caroline came in with the brunette who’d followed her into the house during the cocktail hour. They didn’t see me.

  “I’m tired of hiding,” the woman said. “You shouldn’t be so afraid of your family.”

  “My brother knows,” Caroline told her.

  “But your mother doesn’t. You’ve been hiding us from her since college.”

  “I don’t want to talk about my mother,” Caroline said with an exasperated sigh. Then her voice turned low and flirty, and she took the woman’s hand in hers. “We came in here to focus on us … and that’s much more interesting, isn’t it?”

  The book dropped from my hand, falling to the carpet with a thump that made the brown-haired lady turn toward me and let out a startled gasp. I pressed my back against the shelves, wishing I could disappear as Caroline flipped a switch to turn on a light. When she saw me, her eyes widened, then narrowed and finally blazed.

  “Get out,” she said in a deep growl.

  Why did I keep walking in on Stone secrets? I kept my eyes on the carpet as I slipped into the hallway, and I was near the kitchen when I heard clunky footsteps behind me and felt a hand catch my arm. Then Caroline stepped in front of me. Her face was flushed, and her jagged black bangs clung to her sweaty forehead.

  “Listen,” I said, holding my voice down so everyone in the kitchen wouldn’t hear. “It’s none of my business or anyone else’s. I won’t tell a soul.”

  She spoke in an acrid whisper. “You won’t tell … if what? What are the conditions? That’s how it works with you, right? You’ll keep this a secret if I do something for you?”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t want you to—”

  “Stop playing pure and innocent, Savannah. I know you’re blackmailing my brother … otherwise he wouldn’t stay quiet about your bringing that bartender here. You’ve clearly castrated Ned, but I don’t know what you’ve got on him. So spare me a sleepless night and tell me the truth. Is he having an affair?”

  She’d figured everything out. And she was making me feel horrible—conniving and vengeful and sly—but I’d concocted that deal with Ned for Kitty’s sake, and I was sticking to it.

  “I know how to keep a secret,” I said. “I’m just not sure why you’re keeping yours. These days, nobody cares if—”

  She scoffed. “Don’t be naïve. People care. In my case, it’s the important people.”

  How are you ever going to find a husband? Virginia had said. I supposed that was why Caroline had to hide in dark rooms, but what I’d seen in one of them would never go further.

  “You should sleep well tonight, Caroline,” I said, daring to pat her shoulder.

  She shrugged me off and took a step back. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  I sighed. It was so hard to be decent to that girl. “It means,” I said, “you shouldn’t worry about anything … especially not about me.”

  She just stared. I turned around and walked away, feeling her eyes on the back of my head. As smart as she was, I was sure she hadn’t seen that one coming.

  Fifteen

  Fabian Spader blocked my way to the tent. “Having a sisterly chat?” he said as he leaned against the door and sipped a cocktail. He was inappropriately dressed as usual, in battered jeans and a mint-green shirt with a striped scarf looped around his neck.

  “Is this all you do?” I asked. “Lurk around and eavesdrop on personal conversations?”

  “Mostly,” he said. “At the moment, however, I’m curious about what you were just discussing. I mean, you can’t have anything in common with Caroline. She’s homely. Her fashion sense is appalling. And she’s such a bookish dullard.”

  I perched one hand on my hip. “I happen to be bookish, too.”

  He rubbed his pointy chin, sliding his grayish eyes upward from my feet and lingering on my chest. “You hide it well, Savannah. From the way the men around here have been gawking at you, I think they’re devising plans to lure you into the backseats of their pricey cars.”

  “Well,” I said, “I don’t get into strange men’s backseats. And I’m here with a date.”

  Fabian nodded, stirring his drink. “Yes, I noticed you’re slumming … and you’re fickle. What happened to Jackson Lucas? You were quite chummy with him at the gala last week, and he can’t seem to take his eyes off you tonight.”

  He couldn’t? I hadn’t noticed. I’d been trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t here.

  “Jack’s a delicious subject,” Fabian went on when I didn’t answer his question. “He’s the sort my readers want to know about … handsome, educated, successful. It’s impossible to walk a block in Manhattan without passing a building he doesn’t own.”

  Jack hadn’t told me that. He was even more modest than I’d thought. “He isn’t a subject,” I said. “He’s a person.”

  “Why, of course he is. He’s a fascinating person. So tell me what you know about him.”

  I groaned, feeling like I needed a scalding shower to scrub Fabian’s sleaziness off me. “I don’t know anything,” I said, “except that you should find another career.”

  He snickered. “But I’m so good at this one, sweetie. And I want the two of us to be the very best of friends. I guess I’ll have to think of something to make you fall in love with me.”

  I scooted past him and into the tent, where his photographer lurched forward and snapped my picture. Blue and yellow splotches floated across my vision as I made my way back to my table and plopped into the chair beside Alex.

  “I’m sorry for taking so long,” I said. “I got caught in a couple of unexpected conversations.”

  There was a soft tap on my bare shoulder; I twisted around to find Kitty smiling down at me while she held hands with Ned. “We’re just checking on everyone,” she said. “Are you two having a good time?”

  “Yeah,” Alex replied as Ned and I locked eyes. I’d never seen him out of a suit before; he was dressed like Alex, in casual pants and a polo shirt, and he kept staring at me as if he was afraid I’d make a sudden move. “Thank you for having me.”

  Kitty jammed her elbow into Ned’s ribs. He slowly unlaced his fingers from hers and offered his hand to Alex. “Glad you could come,” he said with a stiff smile. “No hard feelings about that misunderstanding at the gala?”

  Alex glanced between me and Ned. “All’s forgiven … as long as Savannah agrees.”

  “Oh,” I said blithely, summoning my best acting skills, “it’s forgiven and forgotten.”

  Kitty’s face brightened. “I’m thrilled to hear that. So why don’t we make a new beginning to this brother-sister relationship? Give each other a hug and start fresh.”

  No. No, no, no, no, no. I didn’t want to hug him. I didn’t want to touch him. I could barely stand to breathe the same air. But Kitty was nudging me and everybody at the table was staring, and before I knew it I was standing up and Ned’s hulking frame was pressed against me. I had to squelch a gag to keep my dinner down.

  “See what you’ve done?” he whispered into my ear.

  “You started it,” I said through a frozen grin.

  We stepped away from each other, and Kitty clapped her hands like we’d just signed an international peace treaty. I glanced around the tent, where I saw Ainsley talking with her father, Jack looking my way, Fabian eyeing me and typing into his iPhone, and Caroline sitting next to the brunette. Then there was Virginia, who rose from her chair and crossed the floor with the most graceful posture, as if she’d been trained to walk with a book on her head. Her chin was up, her back was straight, and her hips swayed ever so slightly beneath her chic beige dress until she stopped beside Ned.

  “What on earth are you doing, dear?” she asked through a fake smile
.

  “What he should be doing,” Kitty said. “He’s getting along with Savannah.”

  Virginia’s black lashes fluttered as she shifted her eyes toward me. “Well,” she said, biting her lip to stifle a laugh while she examined my dress and my date. “That’s a matter of opinion.” She reached up to smooth Ned’s hair. “I think you have more important guests to see.”

  He walked away with her, and Kitty followed them, glancing at me over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes and smiled.

  I dropped into my chair, completely exhausted.

  “Are you okay?” Alex asked.

  I nodded. “I’m sorry again … I didn’t mean to expose you to so much drama.”

  “I don’t care,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve learned how to tolerate these people … but what about you? Did you really want to make up with Ned?”

  “No,” I whispered. “I can’t stand him.”

  “Then why’d you do it?”

  I shrugged and talked about something else. I’d learned from the Jack disaster that it was better to be honest, and I’d tried to do that so far with Alex. Still, I couldn’t tell him why my peace with Ned was just an illusion.

  *

  Tony picked us up a half hour later. We sat in the back of the car, where Alex pinched his forehead when we were a block from my building.

  “Do you have a headache?” I asked.

  “Too much wine,” he said with a nod.

  I took him inside to give him aspirin while Tony waited in the car, reading one of his library books. Alex turned to me when we were in the elevator and the doors slammed shut.

  “This is a real nice place,” he said.

  “I know. But I didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe you did … and you just don’t know it.”

  The doors parted after we reached the eleventh floor. Then we were at my apartment, where I stuck my key into the lock and opened the door. All the lights were on and Tina was slumped on the couch, an ashtray filled with lipstick-stained Marlboro butts and a People magazine by her side. She was all gussied up, but her hair was lifeless and her skin was white and wan.