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THE WALLACE-LEICESTERS—DESCENDANTS OFrailroad tycoons,naturally—were lifelong friends of the Cases. Gale had been Collin’s unrequited admirer since their charmed childhoods. From being banished to boarding school during their formative years to family summer vacations at a luxury resort or ranch or aboard yet another yacht, Collin and Gale had an undeniable history together. As an adult, she looked exactly as one might picture. A rather bookish brunette with strikingly broad shoulders for her average height, dressed head to toe in an online-only clothing brand, like a student of library science instead of an actual heiress who could easily engage a personal stylist to evoke elegance with a custom-tailored wardrobe. Instead, she chose to roam the earth in ill-fitting basics that did absolutely nothing for her figure, all in the name of faux sustainability. Her skin-care regimen must have been similarly underwhelming, since she was only a few years older than me but her pronounced crow’s feet and pink undertones went completely unaddressed, all suggesting that she was on the wrong side of thirty-five when she was still on the right side of thirty.
Well,just.
Like Collin, she didn’t have to work for a living but subjected herself to the corporate grind regardless. Gale was an editor at Spartina, a modern art book publisher, a vanity career if I ever heard of one, and something I was certain she’d be ill-suited for considering shedidn’t seem to possess any taste whatsoever. She couldn’t have been making considerable money from such an endeavor, but she had a generous trust to dip into at any time and thus could afford to take a low-paying job with perceived prestige.
Collin invited me to his friends’ weekly trivia night at an Irish bar downtown—it doesn’t really matter which one, they’re all the same—and I was instantly turned off, not by the bar but by their chosen activity. Collin and his ilk thought they were so cheeky and clever and cool for associating with the plebes like that, all out in the open, over happy hour pints of Guinness and red baskets of french fries and potato skins dripping in cheese and sour cream, topped off with bacon bits from a plastic cylinder. They exchanged brief glances when a guy their age would walk by the table, sporting a Timex instead of a Rolex. They chuckled when the waitress asked if she should keep track of their orders by seat, in case they wanted separate checks later. They raised an eyebrow after sipping a cocktail made from the well, shrugging their shoulders with a smile, continuing to drink it anyway. What the hell! Down the hatch! When in Rome!
I noticed that Collin participated, too, but never initiated anything himself, which offered some relief. He was just fitting in, and how could I fault him for that, since I was guilty of doing the same? So Collin’s loathsome friends thought it was entertaining to pretend they were just like everyone else in a humdrum bar, all while knowing they had the kind of access and money the others knew absolutely nothing about, and probably never would. Was it gross? Sure. But what kind of behavior did I expect? There wasn’t anything normal about them. Besides, having to suck it up being with them would always be preferable to being with anyone else. Follow the money.
Henry Ogilvy’s mother was literal Spanish royalty, disgraced after an exposed affair, unfaithful to her first husband with a much youngerfootballer, but still a princess all the same, now married into the Ogilvy American banking empire. Evan Burkhart was to inherit the storied candy throne from his family, well-known in the continental United States for their classic varieties, especially favored at Christmastime, but often joked about how he didn’t touch the stuff, since the only chocolate worth its salt was imported from foreign lands, not to mention he also had a well-known problem with the candy of the nose. Recreationally and generally harmless, unlike Marty Knox, whose ancestors essentially invented the framework for modern American publishing, and he went to rehab three times on their dime, which must have been the charm because now he and his wife were regularly lauded in the society pages for their philanthropic efforts, like rehab never even happened.
These were people with a family net worth in the actual billions of dollars.
That said, most of Collin’s friends were innocuous enough on a personal level, never having to really cultivate strong personalities in any singular direction. Sure, I suffered daggers from the eyes of their respective romantic partners, but that was par for the course in my experience with women. Hannah Ogilvy, Elizabeth Scott and Paisley Cooper-Knox were completely interchangeable as far as I was concerned, all vacant eyes peering out of their sunken faces, birdlike bodies clad in Ralph Lauren and Tory Burch for such a casual outing, but with Birkins slung on the interior of their elbows, making the obvious social statement no matter how objectively hideous the bags actually were. Despite their palpable disdain for me, I pressed on with the introductions alongside Collin, smiling sincerely and kissing their cheeks adorably, ready to speak their stupid language that would win them over just enough to keep me there without any fuss. They didn’t smile back at me, they sneered. They didn’t embrace me, they held outa flaccid hand. They didn’t say my name, they just called meCollin’s girlfriend, because I was an outsider. To those women, I didn’t deserve to congregate at the same table, much less have them address me directly. Why wasn’t Collin keeping it in the club, they must have wondered, and certainly discussed amongst themselves later. But when they watched their partners take me in with their eyes that night, it made them sit up straighter. More aloof, yes, but also more alert. Good. I’d just have to be sweet as pie to make their chilly behavior toward me look even worse. I wanted those men to do missionary to those shrews that night with their eyes closed, thinking of me. All of them.
“It’s so lovely to finally meet the group.” I beamed at Collin’s friends after he announced my presence.
“We’ve heard so much about you, Bea.” Gale Wallace-Leicester smirked openly, unlike the other women, who barely spoke and at least had the decency to take a sip of their drinks when they wanted to purse their lips at me in disapproval. Gale did not seem bothered to keep up appearances, not even for Collin’s sake.
“Only good things, I hope.” I chuckled in a way that chilled my bones, expertly mimicking the type of woman expected to be alongside Collin Case.
“Collin tells us you’re an ad woman. What’sthatlike?” Gale put a hand up to her face, playing at fascination, when she was actually condescending to me. She wasn’t wearing any polish at all, and a set of gels would have made a world of difference on those hooves of hers. Squat fingers. Short nails. Unfortunate. A pale pink or nude would have offered the illusion of extension, but I wasn’t about to give her an unsolicited beauty tip in mixed company. In fact, all of the women had underwhelming manicures with little in the way of length. Men love a long nail with a French tip. Surely their mothers told them soor at least made a passive-aggressive comment about it once or twice. Nothing outrageous, just enough to deliver the right amount of scratch during sex. How silly they all were to not put in the effort. It’s not like they worked with their hands. Didn’t they want to keep their husbands?
“I find it to be an exciting career,” I answered Gale. “We have a lot of fun at the office, all sorts of clients, which keeps things interesting. And, obviously, it led me to Collin, which is nothing to sniff at either.” I grinned at my boyfriend, going in for the sweet and obligatory peck on his thin lips, to make the men in our company jealous and the women internally groan. Collin gazed at me like I was the queen to his king, visibly proud that I belonged to him.
At the same moment, Gale noticeably flinched, showing her hand.
So shewasstill in love with Collin.
Oh, now my ears were up, my heart was aflutter. Some recreational sport presenting itself? Excellent.
“That’s right,” Gale continued. “Collin is your client,isn’t he?” She took a sip of dark beer. A curious poison for a woman, considering the physical ramifications. Mother would say something about beer being the kind of libation that could settle on a woman’s thighs until the end of time if she was not careful with the frequency. I could hear her voice again and needed to snap out of it.Focus.
“Correct. One of many clients.”
“But the only one you’re sleeping with, I hope.”
“Gale, stop!” Collin reprimanded her jovially with a good-natured scoff, and the table laughed, including me. What else could I do? It was all but necessary to be deemed affable, which was the whole purpose of the charade. Collin would be getting reviews by the end of the evening, and these were the people he cared about, so I wanted raves.
“Yes, Collin is the only client I’m currently bedding,” I said, carefulto use tasteful yet evocative language in Gale’s presence to further twist the knife. “But that’s because he was special. Most of my clients are bald and boring with little imagination, which tends to be why they hire the agency. Nothing like you, babe.”
I ruffled Collin’s hair playfully and then swept it back out of his face so we could exchange an intimate look for all to see. His tresses were finally getting longer, so he was getting better-looking.
“Oh, Gale, on that note, I could set you up with one of them, if you like? I hear you’re still single. How could that possibly be?”
Even the wives and girlfriend clearly appreciated my wily burn disguised as good-natured jest. Hannah squeezed Elizabeth’s knee under the table while Paisley stifled a small laugh. Their bony shoulders shook to keep laughter inside, their buoyant medium-length blowouts bobbing up and down, all but giving it away. They glanced at Gale for her reaction and then quickly looked elsewhere—clearly she wasn’t part of their little gaggle of gal pals. Gale didn’t even acknowledge their poorly repressed reactions at her expense because she knew the truth, too. Their forced camaraderie was only a technicality based on proximity. She took another sip of her beer, buying herself a moment to decide what to say next.
“Thanks, Bea, but I’m actually seeing someone,” Gale said, surprising all of us at the table. Satisfied, she pushed her hair back behind her ears. It was far too long and a muted brown, in definite need of some highlights for dimension if she actually cared, which she obviously didn’t. Must be nice to not have any of your self-worth wrapped up in appearances. So much space for so many other things. Intriguing if not altogether confounding to someone like me, whose priority of the physical was always nonnegotiable.
“Who?” Collin was the first to inquire. A littletooquickly. In fact, he seemed to be the only one present with a true affection for Gale. Acharacter flaw I’d just have to overlook, much like his narrow shoulders.
“A coworker introduced us a little while ago. We’ve been on a few dates and it’s going pretty well.” Gale searched his face for even a modicum of jealousy but came up short. In fact, Collin looked delighted by the news.
“That’s an exciting development. Do we know the guy?” Collin asked, and I knew what he meant. Was this alleged boyfriend of Gale’s one ofthem?
“No, probably not, but Bea might.” Gale’s eyes narrowed at me, a predator closing in on her prey, as if I were some other girl she could reasonably dangle about for fun. “He went to Duke.”
