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Especially her.
CHAPTER
4
I KNEW EXACTLYwhat I was up against with the Cases. It would have been much simpler to set my sights on someone with an easier family to charm, or even better, someone with no family at all, but the Cases offered a forever type of security, the kind where I could stop being such a cunning little vixen for good. Nothing worth it comes for free. But I was an unknown entity to the Cases. I knew they must have held a deep-seated belief that their only son would ultimately marry into another family like their own, allowing some young society journalist the opportunity to craft a wedding announcement for the ages, one that would both impress and infuriate the Cases’ elite social circle because the match was so favorable to both families.
Mr.and Mrs.Hayes and Haven Case were the quintessential American couple with cash. Consummate hosts of parties and luncheons and galas. Golf and tennis and equestrian enthusiasts. Philanthropic. Personable. Presbyterian. And in possession of absolutely noedge to speak of unless you count watching Fox News behind closed bedroom doors with two glasses of brandyeach. Married for thirty-five glorious years, in addition to prodigal son Collin, they also bore two hellacious daughters, Chloe and Calliope, born as bookends to Collin, paraded around like a couple of bootleg Bush twins. Chloe was the eldest and looked up to her mother, while Calliope brought up the rear and idolized the likes of Tinsley Mortimer. Both were single, which put me at an even further disadvantage with them, especially Chloe, who I’m sure would have liked to be married before her younger brother.
The Case family compound was in the Golden Triangle of Greenwich. A historic Georgian mansion with all the bells and whistles and servants’ quarters that purposely stood atop a gentle hill so they could always look down on their neighbors. The gated rainbow driveway and six-car garage was host to many a classic car per the patriarch’s preference, but also a ridiculous red Ferrari. I made a mental note to ask Mr.Case for a pleasure cruise to take an interest in his hobby and to garner favor with harmless flirtation via one-on-one face time.
The vast interior of the home was soaked with various shades of beige and ecru and eggshell with a smattering of crimson. It was fully staffed, as were all of their residences, and those employed were always silent unless spoken to. Tennis courts. A greenhouse. A fitness studio. A screening room. Nine bedrooms. Twelve bathrooms. A pool that existed purely for decoration over recreation. It was resplendent. A marvel of a manse. I would have felt instantly at home if Collin’s family were to give me a warm welcome. Opulence soothed me. That feeling of undeniable security was intoxicating.
Collin fetched me from the front of my (well, Morris’s) building in a black Range Rover, which was a thrill, since we were usually cartedaround by a driver on the Case payroll. Collin thought it would be fun to drive us himself, like it was a novel thing to do. I hadn’t been in the passenger seat of a vehicle in quite some time, so I enjoyed our leisurely journey to the suburbs, basking in the rays shining in from the window. SPF 100+ applied to preserve the moneymaker.
Calliope Case was waiting for us just outside the entrance, eager to pass judgment on her older brother’s new companion. She waved nonchalantly, nibbling on a small packet of sunflower seeds in bare feet, not quite smiling, but a warm enough reception for Connecticut. She wore a short-sleeved white T-shirt, sheer enough to see her white underthings, and a long blush skirt made of tulle. The ballet boho babe vibe was unexpected, but it suited her as the youngest of the clan with her long and wild strawberry ringlets.
“Hi,” she buzzed in that odd East Coast accent of theirs. “Wow, Coll. She’s gorgeous.” It was definitely a compliment, but more for Collin’s benefit than my own.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Calliope.” I held a tasteful bouquet of peonies for the lady of the manor, a gesture that was well-suited to my fabricated upbringing in the South, but Calliope snatched them from me.
“Mm-hmm, how was the drive?”
Collin and I followed Calliope into the house, the two of them making idle chitchat about traffic and the annoyance of other drivers on the road. She had the kind of skinny ankles with a protruding Achilles tendon that suggested Calliope toed the line between naturally thin and disordered eating. She led us into the front parlor and took a big whiff of the flowers before she flopped onto a cream chaise, her skirt flouncing along with her.
“Mom and Dad should be out in a sec and Chloe isn’t even here yet. She’salwayslate,” Calliope explained to me, finally making direct contact.
“Sounds about right,” Collin said. I noticed he already slipped off his loafers and sat cross-legged on the couch in his socks, slouching forward. Ick. It was fascinating to see these adults ease into such childlike behavior in the home of their parents. It would almost be charming if I didn’t find it so unattractive. I wanted Collin at my side, staking his claim, proud of his prize—me. Not curled into a ball on the sofa like a little boy. I remained upright in a wingback chair, tilting a bit forward myself, with one leg crossed behind the other like Princess goddamn Grace to make a good first impression on my future in-laws.
“I think she was picking up Gale as a favor for Mom. I guess she wanted to join in the fun.” Calliope sneered. While I hated the surprising revelation that Gale would be there for a milestone moment in my relationship with Collin, I was happy to observe that Calliope seemed to share my scorn for the woman.
“Oh, I didn’t know she was coming,” Collin said, clearly surprised, too. “Are Royce and Nora joining as well?” Those had to be Gale’s parents. Thenames.
“I don’t think so. Haven’t seen those two around much in the past month. I think there was a little falling-out over some silent auction item at the NYSCF thingy they all went to. Mom was going on and on about it, but I wasn’t paying close attention because who cares?” Calliope laughed and then turned her attention to me. “Bea, how’swork?”
Calliope saidworklike it was a foreign word to her, in that same patronizing tone Gale had at the trivia night. Whatever affection Calliope had earned from me was swiftly tossed aside.
“It’s fantastic,” I lied. I had really fallen from grace in Len’s eyes since he had found out about Collin and me. It was subtle, but I couldfeel it and I wasn’t pleased about it. “I really enjoy my work. I’m competitive so it scratches that itch.”
“What do you like about it? Besides working forourcompany?” She rolled on her side and extended one of her legs up, taking care to hold on to it through the skirt. I knew I was having a conversation with a woman in her twenties, but I felt like I was being interrogated by a precocious toddler.
“Obviously the Case Companyisone of my favorite clients.”
“I bet.” She grinned.
“Collin!” I heard a woman’s voice bellow down the hallway. Sultry with some texture. Like someone who smoked in the eighties and still engaged in the occasional cheeky ciggy when no one was watching. This was the moment. And there she was. Mrs.Haven Case, a vision in daytime pastel Chanel with a bronzed precision bob, sharp green eyes and not-so-subtle Botox. The archetypal old-money mother. “Sweetheart,” she purred at Collin. I stood up to greet her, but she breezed right past me to embrace her baby boy. Even so, I noticed her maternal touch was still quite removed, with plenty of space in between their bodies. Her kisses were in the air on either side of Collin’s cheeks. She gave him two stiff pats on each of his shoulders. Finally, she twirled around to face me, scanning me up and down with a robotic smile.
“So this is the infamous Bea.” She clasped her hands together, but didn’t reach for me, not for so much as a handshake. “Dear, come and meet Bea,” Haven called out behind me, and Hayes Case rounded the corner.
I had seen Mr.Case before in passing at Collin’s office, though we had not yet formally met. He was still technically the CEO of the Case Company, but he had a slim presence at the office, once or twice a month, preferring to take meetings on the golf course or at theMetropolitan Club if he happened to be in the city. He was a man of average build, shorter than Collin, but broader overall. Still had his hair and embraced the gray. It also looked like he maintained an exercise regimen, absent of a paunch, but he was certainly not ripped. He had a presence. Hayes Case looked like he was somebody. He approached me with a hand held out and a closed-mouth grin. His shake was firm, almost painful, but he released my hand quickly.
“Welcome to our home,” he said.
Neither Hayes nor Haven offered air-kisses or half-hearted embraces to me, so we all took a seat in the parlor. Calliope continued to snack on those infernal seeds with a satisfied smile, like a demented little chipmunk, clearly loving the awkward energy in the room. Staff quickly popped in with mimosas and small breakfast items, miniature croissants and egg bites.
“A vase!” Calliope called after one of them, waving the peonies around like a lunatic.
“Don’t fill up,” Haven said, her eyes on me as if I would actually put anything with bread in my mouth, even diminutive in size. “We’ll have a whole spread in the dining room when the girls arrive.”
