by Josie Litton
I did the same, politely, then said, “It wouldn’t hurt.”
She sighed. “Fine then, be that way. You went to your grandmother for money.”
I didn’t question how she knew. Of course, she would. Grandmother held all her daughters-in-law in contempt even as each of them strained to earn her approval. My mother was no exception but at the same time she couldn’t entirely conceal how much she resented not having any real authority in the lives of her own children.
Had the two women been more evenly matched, an armed truce would have existed between them. As it was, all my mother could do was hit back when and how she could.
“Yes,” I said, “to help Haven House.”
“That place…” She gave a long suffering sigh. “You didn’t have to go to her. Your father hasn’t wanted it known because he hates to be pestered but ever since he became head of the family, he’s had authority to access all of our children’s trust funds. Your grandmother didn’t want to give it to him but for once, he stood his ground. Rather than have you go to that woman--”
She broke off suddenly, as though taken aback by her own audacity. I could imagine her glancing around, afraid, not without reason, that she might have been overheard by a servant who would report her rebellion to Grandmother.
We didn’t know who her spies were but we were always sure that she had them. It was a running joke among the younger Delaneys that for us paranoia was a sign of mental health, not illness. Patrick had reminded me of that the last time we talked.
Rather than think of him right then, I concentrated on what I’d just learned. “Father can release funds?”
“He can,” my mother confirmed. “However, if you want him to, you’re going to have to make yourself more amenable. He is your father, after all. He has a right to see you and to know that you care about his feelings and wishes.”
So I would have done in the past but now he was the man I had overheard talking with Uncle Brian that night as I stood on the terrace. A shiver ran down my back. A few weeks before, I would have said that Grandmother was far and away the most dangerous member of the family. Now I was no longer sure. In my father’s case, the acorn definitely hadn’t fallen far from the tree.
On the other hand, if I could convince him to grant access to my trust fund, not only would I be able to provide for Haven House, but I’d also have the means that I needed to escape.
As much as I was at odds with my family, I was a Delaney. We didn’t back away from challenges, we just found a way to make them to work for us.
“What time?” I asked.
“Seven pm,” my mother said briskly. “Don’t be late.” Having accomplished her mission, she hung up.
I stared at the phone for a moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened, before I shrugged it off and stumbled into the shower.
Half-an-hour later, feeling somewhat revived, I was making coffee when a reminder on my phone beeped. Glancing at it, I groaned. I was supposed to be at a campaign rally for my brother in an hour.
On second thought, I realized that was good. I’d go, play the part expected of me, act as though everything was normal and hopefully that would put me in the right frame of mind to do the same at dinner.
After dressing quickly, I left the small apartment that I was lucky enough to have on loan from a college friend. My parents had expected me to move into one of the family’s many apartments around the city, kept mainly for political and business associates. Instead, I’d jumped at the chance to achieve at least a little independence while figuring out how to get a job on my own and actually support myself.
What I’d learned a few weeks ago had derailed my grand plan. Since then, all I’d been able to do was try to deal with my shock and the emotions that came with it, namely fear and growing anger that was beginning to scare even me. I needed to move on and quickly. If only I could figure how to.
The rally was being held in Washington Square Park, at the heart of the district that my brother was seeking to represent in Congress. The park was close enough to the campus of New York University to attract an enthusiastic group of students from there. But others had turned out as well--young couples who lived in the area, some with strollers and baby packs, seniors, and the usual gaggle of media that showed up wherever Delaneys were.
The day was crystal clear with a dazzling blue sky overhead and a fresh breeze from the harbor to the south. Clusters of balloons had been tied to lamp posts and red--white-and-blue bunting hung everywhere. A warm-up band was playing.
Unlike the practice with some political candidates, the media wasn’t confined behind a rope line. Instead, they were free to wander around in the crowd, interviewing people. Some of those were plants whose job was to reinforce my brother’s talking points. But there didn’t seem to be any lack of potential voters who were genuinely excited about him. The Delaney magic was obviously working.
Security cleared me through to the area behind the temporary dais that had been set up for the event. Todd was nowhere to be seen. I guessed he was in the trailer next to the stage, probably with his feet up making calls to campaign contributors. But I spotted Will right away.
He saw me at the same time and made his way through the crowd of staff to my side. His smile looked genuine but at the same time, I saw the shadows in his eyes
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
Will shrugged. “We got new polls this morning. Your brother is up in every one of them. November is starting to look like a romp and our major ad blitz hasn’t even kicked in yet.”
I wasn’t surprised. Todd had received fawning media coverage from the moment he announced his candidacy. There was already talk that the Congressional seat would just be a stepping stone to the Senate. And beyond…who knew?
“Any plans to go to Washington with him?” I asked. It would be a logical step for Will to take, greatly enhancing his resume in the process. The revolving door between government and the private sector was well worn for a reason. There were few better routes to success.
“Maybe…” he said. “The firm has already indicated that if I do, a partnership will be waiting for me when I come back.”
I was glad for him but I couldn’t help noticing that he looked even more stressed than he had at the gala.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” I asked softly.
Will shrugged. “Sure, I guess. It’s what I’ve been working for since I was a kid. I sweated blood to get into the Ivy League and even more to pay for it. But with everything I did, I’d never be where I am today if I hadn’t met your brother.”
He broke off and looked at me directly. Quietly, he said, “I owe your family a great deal, Grace.”
At the moment, he didn’t seem any too happy about that. I had to wonder why.
“Perhaps,” I said, “but it’s equally fair to say that you’re a great asset to the Delaneys.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. His gaze changed, becoming warmer and appreciative. But I still felt the tension in him.
“Patrick always said that you had a gift for making people feel good about themselves,” Will said. “He was right.”
The sudden mention of my dead cousin startled me. Since the funeral, I hadn’t heard his name uttered by anyone in the family. Apart, of course, from that night a few weeks ago. Except for that, he might as well have vanished down a memory hole.
Will had always impressed me as being well attuned to the unspoken rules that shaped all interactions in the family. That being the case, why would he be the one to bring up the Delaney that almost everyone else was determined to forget?
“How well did you know Patrick?” I asked. Given the difference in their ages--nine years--I wouldn’t have expected them to be friends. But perhaps I was wrong.
“Not as well as I would have liked. But we talked sometimes.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. The posture was oddly defensive, as though he was trying to protect himself.
; “I don’t think it will surprise you that Patrick felt like an outsider when it came to the family,” Will said. “Maybe that’s why he gravitated to talking with me, since I actually am one.”
“Why do you think he felt that way?” I agreed that he had but I still wanted to know how Will had realized it.
“Patrick was a smart guy. I mean scary smart. And he had a knack for putting things together. The only problem was that when he got curious about something, he just kept drilling down into it. He didn’t know when to stop.”
On impulse, I asked, “Should he have?”
Without warning, Will said, “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
I stared at him in shock, unsure that I’d heard him correctly. The band was still playing, the crowd cheering but a great well of silence opened up in me. Unless I was horribly mistaken, Will had just revealed an understanding, or at least a suspicion, about Patrick’s death that surpassed my own.
Distantly, as though I was standing apart observing the scene, I heard myself say, “What was Patrick curious about that he shouldn’t have been?”
A shadow passed behind his eyes. I waited, hardly breathing, hoping against hope that he would tell me. But the moment passed. With a quick shake of his head, Will said, “Forget it, Grace. I’m just spouting off.”
How could I possibly forget it, especially given what I already knew? I was about to insist that he tell me, even to plead with him to do so, when a sudden cheer went up.
My brother, Todd came striding onto the stage, tall, dark-haired, smiling broadly. His lovely blond wife, Carla was at his side. Together, they raised their joined hands as the crowd of supporters applauded and cameras whirled.
I only glanced at them for a moment but when I looked back at Will, he was gone. I didn’t see him through the remainder of the rally. On the way back to my apartment, I tried calling him but the call went straight through to voice mail. I made up my mind to keep trying. One way or another, he was going to tell me what he knew.
I had changed and was getting into a cab to take me to my parents’ apartment when a thought occurred to me. Like Patrick, I might not know when to stop either.
Chapter Eight
I arrived at my parents’ apartment on Fifth Avenue, a few blocks south of where Grandmother lived, shortly before 7:00 pm. Their long-time butler, Steven, opened the door and showed me in.
We exchanged a few pleasantries as I handed him my coat and checked my hair in the entry hall mirror. It was twisted into a neat chignon that left my neck bare. The dress I’d chosen had an off-the-shoulder neckline, a fitted waist, and a slim skirt that tapered to just below my knees. The pale harvest gold wool was accented by a narrow cranberry red leather belt.
With it, I wore the pearl earrings my parents’ had given me as a graduation present. They were lovely and I truly had appreciated them. But that night they were props in the role I had to play, that of the good daughter, amenable and above suspicion. I might choke in the process but I didn’t see that I had any other choice.
Mustering a smile, I stepped into the living room. Ordinarily, I would have taken a moment to enjoy the sweeping view out over Central Park. At the very least, I would have greeted my parents. In the periphery of my vision, I saw my mother--tall, slender, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed and her lovely features making it impossible to believe that she was in her early fifties. My father was beside her but I didn’t look at him.
Instead, I stared at the man who stood beside the fireplace, chatting with them. Adam appeared totally at ease. His presence exuded confidence, as though he had every right to be there.
I couldn’t help envying him. For my part, I was thrown into confusion. I had been prepared to deal with my father, I hoped. But now I had to realize that I faced an even greater challenge.
The true purpose for this dinner became clear: Adam Falzon wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
Even as I rebelled against his arrogance, a kernel of excitement bloomed in me. This stunning man--gorgeous, dangerous, powerful--was there for me, in some sense at least. Or so I would have liked to believe.
I had to remind myself of the truth: I was only a pawn in my family’s great game of wealth and power. Adam Falzon himself was no stranger to that game. On the contrary, by all reports he was a master of it.
For a moment, the thought of being pitted against all three of them made me quake inside. But if I had learned one thing growing up surrounded by extremely ambitious and ruthless people, it was to never yield to intimidation.
With that in mind, I squared my shoulders and prepared to face them as calmly as I could.
My mother saw me first. The effort I had made with my appearance must have pleased her. She beamed me a smile.
“Darling,” she said as she came toward me. “Don’t you look lovely.”
We air kissed as my father came forward as well. Silver-haired, tall and broad-shouldered, he possessed a natural air of command. But just then I couldn’t help thinking how overshadowed he was by the man whose presence in my parents’ home, coming on top of our contrived meeting at the gala, had to be taken as a declaration of intent.
Having lived all my life in a society where most men at least pretended to respect women, I could hardly grasp how little my wishes mattered to Adam Falzon. He simply batted them aside as though they didn’t exist. Or worse, he saw beneath them to the part of myself I didn’t want to acknowledge. The part that was excited to see him. Even aroused.
That simply wouldn’t do. I refused to be that woman--secretly yearning to be dominated, quivering at the sight of a powerful male. The very idea was laughable. And besides, I had more than enough to deal with in my life already.
“Grace,” my father said, “come and say ‘hello’ to our guest. I believe you already know Adam.”
As he spoke, he put a hand on my arm. His touch was light, virtually impersonal but it sent a shock of alarm and revulsion through me. Knowing as I now did what he was truly capable of…
Bile rose in the back of my throat. I fought it down as my heartbeat suddenly accelerated.
All my attention was focused on not recoiling or doing anything else that would cause suspicion. Desperate for any distraction, I turned my head. At once, my gaze met Adam’s.
He was watching us, his brow slightly furrowed and his gaze intent. Once again, I had the sense of being stripped bare, as though where he was concerned, I had no defenses.
And yet, another sensation blossomed in me…relief. As though in some sense I couldn’t begin to understand, I wasn’t alone. Somehow, we were in this together.
That was absurd but I still couldn’t deny it. The best I could do was put it aside for the moment and keep my attention where it needed to be.
With an effort, I said, “Mister Falzon, I had no idea that you would be joining us for dinner.”
That was as close as I could come under the circumstances to reprimanding him. Even so, my displeasure must have been obvious, if only to him.
His eyes darkened slightly. With a faint smile, he said, “Adam, please, and I hope you’ll allow me to call you Grace. As for your parents’ kind invitation, I was delighted to accept it.”
My mother trilled a laugh. I stared at her in unwilling fascination. She was as close to simpering as I had ever seen her.
“Mister Falzon…Adam…is only in the city for a few days,” she said. “We’re extraordinarily lucky that he could join us this evening.”
Lucky? I didn’t believe that for a moment. The entire encounter had obviously been orchestrated, just as our meeting at the gala had been. A short time ago, I would have been bewildered by my family’s acceptance of a man with Adam’s dark reputation. But now that I understood how far they were willing to go to achieve their goals, I wasn’t surprised at all. On the contrary, looking again at the three of them, my sense of helplessness deepened.
No matter his disturbingly attractive I found Adam, I couldn’t let myself be manipulated, my wishes ignored, and my futu
re decided for me. But if I walked out, I could forget any hope of my father giving me access to the money I desperately needed. It would be a cold day in hell before he would grant his disobedient daughter anything.
Instead, I had to find a way to hold off my parents as well as Adam while still getting what I wanted. With the sense that I was stepping out onto a tightrope, I said to him, “We certainly are fortunate. What a shame that you won’t be with us longer.”
A flicker of surprise passed across his sinfully handsome face. With it came a quick gleam of admiration. I had no doubt that he knew perfectly well that my show of pleasantness was just that, a show. But the falseness of it didn’t seem to trouble him at all.
Smiling, he said, “Perhaps I will find a reason to extend my stay.”
My parents exchanged a quick glance of approval. I wanted to believe that they wouldn’t be quite as willing to whore me out to Adam as Grandmother was, but I couldn’t be absolutely certain of that. From their perspective, the encounter was going very well.
My throat tightened. Just then, I would have given anything to belong to a normal family, one with problems of its own but in which I would have had at least a chance of being loved and valued for myself, not for the use I could be put to.
Fortunately, before I could give into the hurt and anger building in me, Steven reappeared to announce that dinner was ready.
“Shall we sit down?” my mother said brightly.
Chapter Nine
With a graceful gesture, my mother indicated the way to the smaller, more intimate of the apartment’s two dining rooms. One could host a sit-down dinner for dozens. The other was intended for much more private occasions.
Both my parents stood aside, leaving the way for Adam to escort me. I hesitated before taking the arm he offered. Stepping closer to him threatened the control I was fighting so hard to maintain. Too readily, I remembered his scent, his touch, the heat of his body…
