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“I was talking to Walt Simon,” her father was saying even before Heather entered the room. He was sitting, stiff-backed, feet crossed at the ankles, in one of two brown leather wing chairs in front of the large stone fireplace that took up most of the east wall. Her mother was sitting in the other, her feet similarly crossed. Both were dressed as if to go out, although Heather doubted they had anywhere to go. She probably should have put on something more substantial than white shorts and an off-the-shoulder top.
“Who’s Walt Simon?” she asked, eyes traveling across the built-in bookshelves lining the other walls. Had anybody actually read any of these books? she wondered.
“He’s my bank manager.”
Heather waited, wondering what this had to do with her.
“I told him about you, and asked if they were hiring. Apparently they are.”
“What kind of job are we talking about?” Heather asked.
“They need tellers. Of course, you’d have to interview…”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“What don’t you understand?”
“Why you think I’d be interested in a job as a fucking teller.”
“Heather, really!” her mother said. “Your language!”
“Bev, please,” her father said, his face turning a dangerous shade of red. “I’ll handle this.”
“Handle what? Me?” Heather shifted from one bare foot to the other, wishing her father would have a heart attack and die. First, he’d given her all of one week to get her act together, and now he was telling her he’d found her a job. As a teller, for fuck’s sake. “I can find my own job, thank you very much.”
“Can you? I don’t see you trying very hard.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing all week?” Heather asked, managing to sound indignant.
“You mean other than sleeping till noon and lying around in the sun?”
“For your information, I’ve spent hours on my laptop, looking at what jobs are available in my field, trying to find something for someone with my qualifications,” Heather lied, pretending not to notice the roll of her father’s eyes. “It’s going to take time. There’s not a lot out there right now. Look at Paige. She’s been unemployed for months. I don’t hear you complaining abouther.”
“First of all, Paige isn’t my daughter, much as I wish she were.”
“Great,” Heather muttered under her breath, hating her cousin more than ever.
“Secondly, she was a casualty of a New York takeover, not her own irresponsibility.”
“You saying I’m irresponsible?”
“You’re the one who left work in the middle of the day.”
“I had a very good reason for leaving the office that afternoon,” Heather protested. “I’d just found out that Noah—”
“Noah,” her father scoffed, his hands waving dismissively in front of his face, as if warding off a pesky fly. “Another one of your wise decisions. As if going after your cousin’s boyfriend wasn’t foolish enough. Did you really think that a man stupid enough to cheat on someone like Paige wasn’t going to cheat on you, too?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe a daughter of mine could be that dumb.”
Heather’s eyes filled with angry tears. “I am not dumb.”
“Then prove it. Let me call Walt Simon and tell him you’ll interview for that job.”
Heather looked from her father to her mother, then back to her father. “There is no way I’m working as a fucking teller in a fucking bank. So you can take your fucking job and shove it up your fucking ass.”
“Oh, Heather,” her mother said as the color drained from Ted Hamilton’s face.
“Okay, then,” her father said, with infuriating calm. “I’m afraid you leave us no choice.” He paused, whether to collect his thoughts or for dramatic effect, Heather couldn’t be sure. “I’ll arrange to have some money transferred into your account, enough for first and last month’s rent on an apartment, plus enough to tide you over for a few months. Hopefully by the time your money runs out, you’ll have found a job suitable forsomeone with your qualifications.”
Heather looked toward her mother. “I can’t believe you’re letting him do this.”
“You have till the weekend,” her father said. “If you haven’t found a place by then, well, maybe you can persuade one of your brothers to take you in until you do.”
“I don’t need till the weekend,” Heather said. “I’ll be out of here this afternoon. In fact, you won’t ever have to see me again. How’s that?” She spun around on her heels, then fled the room, bounding up the stairs to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her. “Fuck you!” she cried, cursing her father, her mother, Noah, and Paige. Precious Paige. The daughter her father had always wanted.
“Heather, please,” she heard her mother call. “Be sensible.”
Heather sank down on the bed, her body shaking with rage. She had no idea where she was going to go or what she was going to do.
Only one thing was certain: she was way past sensible.
