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“Well, then I suppose you didn’t really know her,” Preston snapped, taking a long draught of his wine. As usual, things were dematerializing pretty quickly between all of us, maybe even more so since Preston hadn’t shown up drunk this time. I cleared my throat and interrupted their talk of all things Jane with what seemed like a reasonable question.
“Was there something you wanted to talk to us about this evening?”
Mr. Harvey didn’t answer right away. He glanced from me to my mother, then back to Preston. For a moment, I was sure he knew about us, about what we had done. Just as the knot in my stomach grew too heavy to hold down anymore, he spoke.
“I heard about the Verger deal.”
I let out a long breath into my glass as I drank, swallowing both the red wine and the bile that had risen into my throat. I had to stop being so on edge. There was absolutely no way either of our parents could know what had happened, or might what continuing happening between Preston and I.
Was I really considering this? Was I really giving serious thought to continuing my affair with my soon-to-be stepbrother?
The mention of the Verger deal made me question myself even more. That was the client Preston had been on the phone with last night, the one who wanted to tear down a homeless shelter to put in a luxury condo development. It was infuriating. It was absurd. It was unethical. And yet Preston’s father seemed almost proud of him for it. I wondered how proud he would be when Preston called the whole thing off.
“I take it you want this to happen?” Preston said. He tried to play it cool, but I could hear the note of anticipation in his voice clear as a bell.
Mr. Harvey nodded, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll be honest, Preston: I wasn’t sure you’d have it in you to make a bold move like that, especially without Jane around to give you a little shove in the right direction. I thought maybe you’d gone soft on me. Not everyone in your position would have the stones.” He chuckled softly. “They’d be too afraid of going to hell.”
I couldn’t help but scowl. It twisted across my face before I could stop it.
“Rightfully so,” I muttered, knowing well the magnitude of the argument I was about to start. “It’s disgusting. You’re talking about taking the one safe haven these homeless people have and replacing it with a glorified apartment building for the wealthy. You ought to be ashamed.”
Mr. Harvey seemed taken aback at my little outburst, as if he wanted to reach across the table and smack me for speaking out of turn and beyond my station, but before he could say a word, my mother stepped in.
“Oh, Madison,” she sighed, amused by what she might call my “misguided pluck.” I watched her nine-carat engagement ring glitter under the prismatic spray of the chandelier above our heads. “You can’t possibly think we’re responsible for their misfortune. It’s not our fault they’re homeless.”
I met her gaze first, then Preston’s. “It is now,” I said.
Though I doubted it would make any difference, for once, nobody argued with me. The elder Harvey just smirked as he chewed on a bite of his disgustingly beautiful food while holding a silver fork that was probably worth more money than one of those poor homeless people would come by all year…
Chapter 12
There was something about Maddy’s disapproval that made mincemeat of my heart, especially as she dressed down my father.
I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but as she glanced over at me like that with such a righteous fire in her eyes, I felt incredibly small. No one ever made me feel that way, not even my father. He had made me feel a lot of things in my lifetime, very few of them good, but I could always tell myself that he did it as some kind of perverse power play, and that would make me feel better again.
I couldn’t do that with Maddy, and I didn’t know why. Maybe it was because, deep down, I knew she was right. But what was I supposed to do? Mr. Verger was one of the biggest clients we had. It was definitely going to upset Maddy, but I couldn’t just tell him “no.” The kind of shit storm that would bring down on my father’s head would be unreal. I might have done it just for that reason, if not for the fact that shit rolls downhill.
No one said much else during dinner, though I could tell from Maddy’s mother’s sighs that she considered the evening ruined. I still didn’t fully understand what we were doing here. Was this some kind of “atta boy” for handling the Verger problem? Or perhaps some misguided reinforcement to ensure I didn’t chicken out on the whole sordid matter? If so, it seemed very unlike my father.
When we’d all finished our meals, he stood up from his place at the head of the table. “Vivian,” he said, “why don’t you take Madison into the parlor for some after-dinner drinks. Preston, you go ahead and take a few minutes to finish up here, and when you’re done, we will finish this discussion in the study.”
Now it made sense. There was more to it than met the eye, but not something my father wanted to discuss in front of Maddy and her mother. Madison looked absolutely terrified at the prospect of spending alone time with Vivian, and I couldn’t blame her. As my father retired to the opulently decorated library at the far side of the house, I very quickly decided I wasn’t hungry anymore. I took a moment to intercept Maddy just outside the parlor door.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’ll try to make this quick.”
“It’s fine,” she snapped. I could tell she was still upset about the thing with the shelter. “I can handle myself against my mother. I’m sure you have other things to worry about.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “You just don’t understand, Maddy. This is the way of the world. If I don’t do this, somebody else will, and then…”
“And then you’ll all have just a little less money,” she finished for me, her fiery eyes leaping up to meet my own. “Gee, when you put it like that, Preston, I can almost wrap my tiny plebian brain around it.”
“I didn’t mean…” I began, but Maddy was already pulling away from me and heading into the parlor with her mom. It spoke volumes that she’d rather subject herself to Vivian’s unique brand of torture than remain in my company one more minute. Was she really going to put me through the ringer over this?
The whole thing was unsettling for a variety of reasons, the least of which involved memories of my mother and father’s relationship before she’d finally divorced him and moved out.
She had been a lot like Maddy. She had morals and principles, and she never backed down when someone like my father challenged them. He always regarded her with a condescending kind of amusement, as though someone like her couldn’t possibly understand the nuances of running a multi-billion dollar business. I realized with no small sense of shame that I had been treating Maddy similarly, and as I turned to walk into my father’s office, I wondered if it was worth it.
My father had hardly ever bestowed a kind word on me before. Even when I was doing his bidding. But the way he’d looked at me over dinner this evening, I could tell that he was proud in some sick and twisted way. He wanted me to be cutthroat, and knocking down a building was just one in a long line of tasks he’d forced on me that ate away at my moral pillars.
And the twisted thing was, I wanted this.
It was what I’d always wanted from my father. I could afford all the diamonds and gold in the world, and yet I’d never been able to afford his approval. It was always just out of my price range, so to speak, and I’d spent my whole life coveting it.
Perhaps if my father hadn’t demanded full custody of me, I’d have had my mother there to put things in perspective. But he and his team of lawyers had seen to it that my mother wasn’t granted even the barest of visitation rights. Money could buy a lot of things, including a family court judge.
What changed? I wondered as I slowly pushed open the office door. What kind of game is he playing tonight?
I waited patiently just beyond the threshold of the study. Clearly he’d expected to have a few more minutes before I arrived. My father was on
the phone.
“No, of course not,” he was saying, his back to me as he stared out the window at the garden beyond. I realized he probably had no idea I was even there. I was just about to clear my throat when he continued: “Just because I’m going through with the marriage doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
I stood stock still as I let those words sink in. Who the hell was my father talking to? It sure as hell wasn’t Vivian. My stomach churned. Was he cheating on Maddy’s mother?
The answer was obvious, but that didn’t mean I wanted to believe it. Of all the things I’d imagined my father was over the years, a philanderer wasn’t one of them.
But now it all made so much sense. I’d always wondered what made my mother ask for a divorce. Philosophical differences were one thing. My mother was a tolerant person, and to a degree, she could have looked past those. But infidelity—adultery? That was something my mother wouldn’t have been able to ignore.
Very quietly, I sat down on the opposite side of his desk and listened to the remainder of his conversation.
“No, darling. It isn’t like that at all,” he continued. I’d heard that tone before, the one he used when trying to keep irate board members nice and calm. He was working this woman over, and if I knew my father’s powers of persuasion, then she was buying it hook, line, and sinker. “She’s no more special than you are. In fact, I have it on very good authority that mistresses have more fun. You benefit from my attention and my money without being tied down to a family. Isn’t that what a young girl like yourself wants?”
