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22
North Haven
Sarah declined Phillip’s Somerset’s offer of a car service and rented a premium European-made sedan instead. They collected it from a garage in Turtle Bay at half past ten the following morning and by noon were speeding through Suffolk County on the Long Island Expressway. To help pass the time, Sarah read aloud the quaint-sounding names of the towns and hamlets as they appeared on the faded green exit signs—first Commack, then Hauppauge, Ronkonkoma, and Patchogue. It was a silly game, she explained to Gabriel, that she had played as a child, when the Bancrofts had passed their summers in East Hampton with other rich Manhattan families like theirs.
“The new crowd is much richer than we were, and they’re not ashamed to show it. Grotesque displays of wealth are now de rigueur.” She tugged at the sleeve of the dark pantsuit that she had brought from London. “I only wish I’d had time to shop for something more appropriate.”
“You look beautiful,” said Gabriel, a hand balanced atop the steering wheel.
“But I’m not suitably attired for a weekend gathering at the North Haven estate of Phillip Somerset.”
“How should one be dressed?”
“As expensively as possible.” Sarah’s phone chimed with an incoming text. “Speak of the devil.”
“Have we been disinvited?”
“He’s checking on our progress.”
“Do you suppose he’s contacting all his guests, or only you?”
“And just what are you implying?”
“That Phillip Somerset sounded inordinately pleased to hear from you yesterday.”
“Our relationship is both personal and professional,” admitted Sarah.
“How personal?”
“We were introduced by a mutual friend at MoMA’s annual Party in the Garden fundraiser. Phillip was going through a messy divorce at the time. We dated for several months.”
“Who ended it?”
“He did, if you must know.”
“What on earth was he thinking?”
“I was in my late thirties at the time, and Phillip was looking for someone a bit younger. When he met lovely Lindsay Morgan, a yoga enthusiast and model twelve years my junior, he dropped me like an underperforming stock.”
“And yet you remained invested in Masterpiece Art.”
“How do you know that?”
“Lucky guess.”
“I had already entrusted a small portion of my assets to Phillip before we began dating,” said Sarah. “I saw no reason to demand a redemption simply because our relationship went awry.”
“How small a portion?”
“Two million dollars.”
“I see.”
“I thought I made it clear the last time we were in New York that my father left me rather well off.”
“You did,” said Gabriel. “I only hope that Phillip has looked after your interests.”
“My current balance is four point eight million dollars.”
