Cunning

by Aleatha Romig

  Did she expect mine to be? Was this meeting supposed to be where I begged her for my birthright?

  As she approached, I stood, wondering what to say to my own mother. She stopped in front of me and nodded to the maître d’, who quietly thanked her and backed away. The clatter of dishes and voices of other patrons disappeared as the tightness in my chest grew.

  Before my very eyes, Adelaide Fitzgerald’s mask of perfection shattered. Apprehension, concern, perhaps even love twisted her customary expression. The façade she’d worn for most of my life fell to the floor, shards of flawlessness broke into a million pieces as she wrapped her arms around me, squeezing my shoulders with more emotion than I could recall her ever showing.

  I didn’t move or reciprocate. I was paralyzed and dumbfounded.

  I’d been mentally prepared to meet her ice with ice. I’d been ready to bask in my victory of remaining in school with the ability to live in New York, and all without her or Alton’s help. But this was different. The woman clinging to me in the middle of a Manhattan lounge high above the city was my momma. Tears prickled my perfectly painted eyes as my arms found their way around her quaking shoulders as she cried silently.

  Finally, she pulled away, her hands still on my arms and looked at me. It wasn’t the scan for imperfections I was accustomed to. Her blue eyes glistened with tears. She was looking in my eyes, really looking.

  “Alexandria, I love you.”

  I couldn’t speak, could only nod as we both took ragged breaths and sat.

  “May I start you ladies out with something from the bar?”

  We both turned to the waiter who had either been watching our public breakdown or magically appeared out of thin air. “Yes,” we said at the same time. Again our eyes met as our cheeks rose.

  “May I suggest our Bloody Mary?”

  “That sounds perfect,” Mother said. “Alexandria?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  She reached out for my hand. “Darling, you’re beautiful. I’ve been so worried about you, about how you’d live.”

  The indignation I’d harbored for the past week found its way back through the emotion. I kept my voice low. “You weren’t worried enough to stop Alton from stealing my trust fund.”

  “Are you truly going to start with accusations? I came all this way to see you and your school and you’re going immediately for the jugular?”

  My school? Like this was second grade at the academy and I was going to show her the papier-mâché ornament I made.

  I sat taller and smoothed the napkin over my lap. “I’m so sorry, Mother. Perhaps we should discuss the lovely view. Do you see the Empire State Building over there?”

  Her lips pursed. “This is difficult for me.”

  “For you? Leaving me, the last Montague, penniless on the streets of New York is difficult—for you?”

  “Dear, we never thought you’d leave. We never thought you’d walk away. That was your decision. You have a home. You don’t need to be on the streets of New York.” She leaned forward. “You aren’t on the streets, are you, dear?”

  The waiter placed our drinks. Undoubtedly sensing the tenor of our conversation, he wisely left without speaking.

  “No, and you’re right. It was my decision—my choice. I chose to have a life, one away from Savannah, one where I’m happy.”

  “You could be happy in Savannah,” she replied.

  “Like you?”

  Her shoulders straightened. “I don’t understand why you continue to say things like that, why you throw that in my face. Don’t you realize that I did it all for you? You, Alexandria Charles Montague Collins. I did it for you.”

  I closed my eyes as I took a sip of my Bloody Mary. It was tart and strong, making my throat clench as the burn made its way to my stomach. Before its effects could numb the ache in my heart, I took another longer sip. “Then stop.”

  “Stop?”

  She was stirring her drink with the large stalk of celery. Maybe that’s what I should have done. I swear my sips were pure vodka.

  “Yes, stop. If you’re putting up with Alton and living under his thumb for me, stop.”

  After a prolonged drink, she spoke. Her tone was whimsical as if she were telling me a bedtime story. Not that I could ever remember her doing that. I was about to ask about Jane, but her words held my attention.

  “Your father loved you very much. He didn’t feel the same way about me.”

  I stared, silenced by her uncustomary honesty.

  “He wanted to leave me, leave Montague, the company and manor. He detested everything to do with it, much like you.”

  There was something in that sad statement that gave me hope. Maybe I was more like my father than I ever knew.

  “He didn’t want to leave you. He told me that he’d take you with him. You were all he cared about. He didn’t want the money, name, or status. Only you.”

  I wiped a tear I didn’t know I shed. “But he never got the chance?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  A new thought came to mind. He’d wanted to leave and then he died. My skin peppered with goose bumps. “Was he…? His accident…?” I couldn’t make myself ask the question that churned the Bloody Mary in the pit of my stomach, a question I’d never before pondered.

  “The police did a thorough investigation. There was no sign of tampering or foul play.”

  “So it was suspected? Why else would there be an investigation?”

  “There are always investigations with accidents. Your father liked fast cars. He may have been driving that way because he was upset. We’d argued again over the telephone. He was on a business trip.”

  “Why haven’t you ever told me this?”

  Her slender shoulders moved up and down. “Alexandria, at what age is a daughter ready to learn the secrets of her past?”

  “Did you love him? I’ve never heard you say you did.”

  She pressed her lips together before speaking. “Russell Collins was one of the few men I’ve loved. In college I believe we were both in love.”

  I exhaled. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to know that, but it made me content to think that at some point in my mother’s life, she was genuinely happy, that my parents were both happy.

  “You may help yourself to the buffet at any time,” the magically appearing waiter said as he refilled my water glass.

  “Thank you.”

  As we stood, Mother reached for my hand and squeezed. “Dear, when I decided to visit you, I decided to share more than that story with you. Please give me time.”

  I squeezed her hand back and nodded.

  The volume of the room increased as we made our way toward the buffet. Live entertainment crooned as chefs manned the many tables. Artesian breads, bagels, and rolls were just the beginning. There was a raw bar with tuna tartare and sushi, as well as an assortment of oysters, mussels, and crab. Traditional breakfast foods such as waffles, grits, potatoes, and eggs were also present. The dessert bar was too decadent to approach.

  With plates overflowing we made it back to our table.

  “Tell me about the man you’re dating.”

  “I see you’ve spoken to Bryce,” I said just before I took a bite of fruit.

  “Yes. He’s… well, heartbroken again. And Suzy…”

  “He needs to move on.” And I don’t give a rat’s ass about Suzanna. I didn’t say the last part aloud.

  “But, dear, you agreed just a week ago to stay in contact with him. He’s been contacted by the Evanston police for a deposition.”

  My fork stopped somewhere between my mouth and plate. “I thought Alton had that all taken care of.”

  “He did. He had, but the girl’s parents won’t go away quietly. They’re preaching something about clearing their daughter’s name. They say she’s a victim and since her name is public… well, it’s all the fault of that campus newspaper.”

  “Stop, Mother. It’s not the newspaper’s fault. It’s Bryce’s.”

&
nbsp; Her blue eyes opened wide. “Alexandria, he didn’t do it. She’s just after money. That girl thought she found herself the goose that laid the golden egg. When Bryce rejected her, because you know his heart has always belonged to you, well, Melissa couldn’t take it. She pursued him and convinced him to have sex. Then she had someone else batter her. With Bryce’s DNA she had a case.”

  My head moved from side to side. “Talk about blaming the victim. Jesus, Mother, how in the world did you come up with that story?”

  “I didn’t. Suzy told me.”

  Melissa? Why does that name sound familiar?

  “Oh, and I can see where she’s impartial. Why would anyone do what you just described?”

  “Things aren’t always as they appear. The girl was living in a very nice apartment, yet her parents can barely pay their mortgage.” Mother nodded as she took a bite of her brunch. “Yes, she was after money.”

  “You seriously think she had to convince Bryce to have sex? Do you think that was difficult? If he was done dating her, why did he do that?”

  “You should ask him, dear. Talk to him. He’s distraught over the deposition, especially now.” Mother’s blue eyes widened. “Just this week, she’s gone missing. The evidence doesn’t look good. He needs our support.”

  What the hell?

  “The girl is missing?”

  “Yes.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “If you ask me, she knows that her lies will come out, and she’s just trying to stay out of the limelight. It’s a good thing Bryce was in California last week.”

  I shook my head.

  “Why, Mother?”

  Adelaide took a sip of her drink. “Because, dear, that was the last time she was seen.”

  “No. Why does Bryce need our support?”

  “Because he’s family. That’s what family does.”

  I blinked my eyes, wondering if the scene would change. “No, Bryce isn’t family. He’s your best friend’s son. I’m family and you sent me away with nothing.”

  “Alexandria, we did not send you away. I’ve done everything but get down on my knees and beg you to come home. You left. Never in a million years would we send you away. You’re a Montague. You belong at Montague Manor. There you’ll have all you need.”

  “I need more than money.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “What do you need?”

  She is unreal.

  “How about emotional support?”

  “Where better than from your family? And dear, Bryce loves you. He’ll support you.”

  “God, Mother, I feel like we talk in circles. What do you know about the man I’m dating?”

  “Bryce said he’s dangerous and involved in illegal activities.”

  “Wow. Need we forget that the man you want me to date has rape charges pending… oh and assault and apparently a possible kidnapping? Yet to listen to you, I’m dating a mobster or something.”

  Adelaide leaned forward. “Are you?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Well, I can see the attraction, the excitement, for a young lady such as yourself. You’ve been sheltered your entire life. A good looking man, wealthy—even if through dubious means—and mysterious.” She took another drink. “It’s every sheltered woman’s fantasy. But, dear, it’s not real life. Bryce, a man who’s known you all of your life, who loves you despite this little infatuation, that’s a real future.”

  Little infatuation? Is she talking about me and Nox or Bryce and Melissa?

  I tilted my head to the side. “Was it yours?”

  “My?”

  “Your fantasy?”

  “Oh, I learned a long time ago that fantasies don’t come true.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Do you know the name of my boyfriend?’

  Adelaide’s chest rose and fell as she studied the contents of her plate and moved the food from place to place. Finally, she looked up and straightened her shoulders. Her tone was different, determined. “Alexandria, you played right into his hand. You may not realize how much we are alike, but he did. The young man’s name is Lennox Demetri and you must break it off with him immediately. Your future, our future, Montague’s future is depending upon you.

  “I didn’t see it. I didn’t understand it.” She continued, reaching for my hand. “I was too stupid. But not you. You’ve been strong your entire life… and smart. Alton couldn’t beat you, until now. Please, I will beg. Please come home.”

  “STOP ASKING ME to do that,” Alexandria implored. “I don’t understand a word of what you just said. What does Alton have to do with Lennox? And don’t you care if I’m happy?”

  I did. With all of my heart, I cared. My fingers trembled as I clenched the mostly empty glass of Bloody Mary. How could I possibly explain the web of lies and deceit when I’d played a vital role in all of it?

  “Alexandria, I do want you to be happy. I believe Bryce can give you that.”

  “You haven’t even met Lennox. How can you dismiss him?”

  “I don’t need to meet Lennox.”

  My beautiful daughter’s eyes dropped to the table. “You don’t even want to meet the man I think I love.”

  Love?

  “Dear, you’ve only just met him.”

  “I didn’t just meet him. We met—”

  “In Del Mar,” I interrupted.

  “How? How did you know that? Oh, Bryce. That’s right. I told him I met Lennox this summer on vacation.”

  “What made you choose to vacation in Del Mar?”

  Alexandria shrugged. “Chelsea and I love the water, the coast. We wanted to go south.”

  “But why Del Mar? Why that week?”

  I motioned to the waiter for two more Bloody Marys. I wouldn’t be the only one needing it by the time I was done.

  “Mother?” she questioned.

  “Newport Beach, Laguna Beach, Half Moon Bay. There are so many possibilities, and you chose Del Mar, the particular week that Lennox Demetri was there.”

  “Fate?”

  “That would be nice, but if you’re old enough to learn the truth about your father, you’re old enough to know that fairytales and fantasies don’t exist and neither does fate.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying. If you’re insinuating that Nox was there for me, it’s not true.”

  Nox?

  “I didn’t say that. I’m saying you were there for him.”

  “This isn’t making sense. I’d never heard of him. He’d never heard of me.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to explain, “Sometimes… it’s a rare thing… but sometimes there’s an attraction too strong to resist. An invisible pull that even though you shouldn’t give into, you can’t resist, no matter the consequences or repercussions. Call it chemistry. Call it love at first sight.”

  The waiter took our empty glasses and brought full ones.

  “Was that you and my father?”

  I smiled. “No. An attraction that strong never dies.”

  Alexandria sat back and stared. Her expression turned as if the words she were about to utter tasted sour. “You and Alton?”

  I couldn’t even justify that with words.

  I tried to explain, “You were about ten. He was the only time I ever broke the rules. It almost cost me everything.” I took a deep breath. “I’d do it again, and I wouldn’t stop him. In hindsight, it would’ve made things better.”

  In the moments it took for me to collect my thoughts and decide what I could share, I remembered. I remembered how it all started.

  It was another dinner party, another function. I knew my role. With my parents gone, it was even more vital. However, ever since the death of my father, Alton’s power had grown. Both in and out of the boardroom, he was unstoppable.

  Usually when he traveled, he preferred to be alone. I knew he wasn’t really alone. I also knew that occasionally Suzy was unavailable while he was gone. I didn’t know how stupid they thought I was, but the truth was, I didn’t care. It was a break, a r
eprieve. It was time I could spend with Alexandria, time when I saw her smile.

  This trip was different. Alton needed his wife by his side. We were in New York and it was almost Christmas. I would’ve much rather been in Savannah than freezing in the north. People say snow is pretty. It chills me to the bone.

  Alton never told me about the business, about Montague Corporation. It was my name above the doors, yet I was too stupid to understand. At least that’s what I’d been told. I wanted to know, to learn, but that wasn’t my job. As we settled into the back of a limousine, with me trimmed out in jewelry and fur, decorated like a Christmas tree to appease the eye, I was reminded again not to speak, not to embarrass him. It was the same speech I heard before every affair.

  It usually didn’t matter. Once we crossed the threshold, he’d be off talking business and I’d be left with the wives to talk children, charities, and fashion. That was why I was always required to wear the finest and newest. It wasn’t enough to know the designer: I needed to own them.

  We always arrived in time for cocktails. According to Alton that was when deals were started. It was like fishing. Cocktail time was the time to bait the hook and cast the line. During dinner was the time to tighten the line, and after dinner, set the hook and reel them in.

  The room was festive, elegant, and chic. Though I didn’t know the amount, I was confident we’d spent a lot of money to attend this function. Busy with the other wives, some of whom I knew from other functions and many I didn’t, I looked up and our eyes met.

  I didn’t know who he was or even his name. All I saw were his eyes, the palest blue I’d ever seen, and they were looking at me. Like a scene from a movie, the rest of the room faded into a fog. The music and chattering stopped, replaced by the sound of my beating heart.

  “Hello.” His deep voice echoed in my mind, sending ripples through my body.