“I know. That’s why you’re coming with me,” I said. “There’s barely any room to move, so you can just stand still and let me hang all over you.”
He liked that idea. I led him to the dance floor and Allison did the same with Tony, and then we were jammed inside the crowd. I draped my arms over Alex’s shoulders and swayed to the music while he held my hips and his suit rubbed against my sequins.
“See?” I said, standing on my toes to talk into his ear. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”
He laughed and nuzzled my neck, and we stayed in our spot through five songs—until Alex suggested we rejoin Tony and Allison, who had gone back to our table. I nodded, Alex took my hand, and he walked in front of me to clear a path through the crowd. I recognized faces as we moved—a reality-show star, a Giants football player, and that sleaze Fabian Spader.
Alex didn’t notice him. Then we were back at our table, where we took our seats and Charlie’s cell vibrated on a cocktail napkin. He read a text message and turned to Kitty.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, “but I have to leave.”
“Is something wrong?” Kitty asked.
He nodded. “I texted Ethan’s nanny to check on him, and she thinks he’s coming down with the flu. She told me not to leave the party … but I’m going to. I prefer to take care of him myself when he’s sick.”
Kitty watched as he stood up from his chair. “I completely understand, Charlie. And I can leave, too. I’d love to help with Ethan … if that’s okay with you.”
Two lines creased between his eyes. “Seriously?” he said. “You’d give up your New Year’s Eve to witness a toddler vomiting all night?”
She laughed. “Not any toddler … but definitely Ethan.”
That made Charlie smile. He and Kitty said good-bye to everyone, and then there were two empty chairs beside me. But the one that Kitty had been in didn’t stay vacant for long, because Caroline emerged from the crowd and sat in it.
“Hi, Savannah,” she said, then looked to my right and greeted Alex.
“Happy New Year,” he replied before letting out five consecutive sneezes.
I gave him a fresh tissue from my purse and turned to Caroline, whose hair had been curled into tousled waves. “Kitty thought you might be here,” I said. “Is Trish with you?”
She nodded toward the back of the room. “She’s sloshed and doesn’t have the balance to get over here. She spoke with Kitty and Charlie, though … they passed our table on their way out. And I’m glad you’re still around, because Trish and I are about to leave for another party and I want to ask you something.”
“Ask away,” I said as I reached for a glass of water.
“Did you go to Carys Caldwell’s house when you were in Larchmont?”
I’d just raised the chilled glass to my lips, and I felt Alex’s scalding stare. For a moment I considered denying everything, but I dropped that idea because there was no reason to lie. Just because Alex had told me to let Ned’s new PI do his job and stay out of it didn’t mean I had to.
“Aunt Baby,” Caroline continued, “claims to have seen you there when her driver was taking her home after my mother’s party. But she also thought she’d seen Ned sneaking around with Heather Schmidt that night, so I’m not sure how reliable she is.”
She’s as reliable as a tax bill. And that Nearsighted Nonagenarian reputation is a joke.
I kept my gaze straight ahead as I took a sip of water. “She’s right about me.”
I saw Alex from the corner of my eye. He was looking at me in a shocked and outraged way, like he was waiting for an explanation, but I didn’t believe I owed him one.
I felt differently toward Caroline, though. I turned to her and started talking about why I went to the Georgian Colonial and everything that had happened when I was in its garage.
“So you don’t think Carys had a role in Dad’s accident?” Caroline asked.
I shrugged. “I have no proof … but my gut feeling is that she didn’t.”
Caroline bent her elbow on the table and leaned her face against her hand. “But you think she convinced Dad to keep the Amicus–Lake Kolenya connection away from Stone News.”
“She either sweet-talked him or tricked him into believing there was no connection.”
“Yes,” Caroline said musingly, “although I think Dad was too smart to be fooled.”
I nodded. “You’re right … but I prefer not to think that, if you know what I mean.”
She sighed, leaned back in her chair, and folded her arms. “I prefer that, too.”
We were quiet for a moment, listening to Lady Gaga singing and Alex sneezing. “Well,” I said finally, “I’m going to keep pursuing this.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “Do you have other leads I don’t know about?”
Only one. And it’s probably nothing.
“Not really … but I’m trying to find some,” I said. “I know the new PI is working on this and Ned doesn’t want me involved … so it’d be better if you didn’t tell him that I spoke with Mrs. Caldwell or that I’m trying to figure things out on my own.” I glanced around the room. “Ned isn’t here, is he?”
“No … he has a date with some harlot,” she said dully, then tucked her hair behind her ears and thought for a few seconds. “Anyway … I’ll keep this from him … if you don’t keep anything from me. You’ve already broken our agreement to wait until the PI finishes his investigation … but can I trust you to keep this one?”
“You can,” I said.
We shook on it. She stood up and blended into the crowd on her way back to Trish, and then I had to deal with Alex fuming beside me.
“I heard every word,” he said.
His face was flushed, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or the almost-empty glass of vodka in his hand. “Alex,” I said calmly as I twisted toward him, “it doesn’t matter if you heard. I wasn’t trying to keep my discussion with Caroline a secret.”
“But you did keep your visit to Senator Caldwell’s house a secret,” he said loudly enough for Tony and Allison to stop talking to each other and look at us.
I sighed. “The only reason I didn’t mention it is that I didn’t want you to worry. I knew you were concerned about me digging into what happened to Edward, and—”
“Damn fucking right I was concerned,” he said, slamming his glass down on the table. “I told you not to do it.”
The party was in full swing, we were all drenched in that sublime purple light, and this was no time for an argument. I’d been trying to avoid one, but my temper suddenly flared.
“You can’t tell me to do or not to do anything, Alex. I thought I’d made that clear.”
He punched his hand against his thigh. “That isn’t what this is about, and you know it.”
Tony reached across Allison to pat Alex’s shoulder. “Don’t get worked up, buddy. Savannah wasn’t in any danger … I was parked outside that house the whole time.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re just filling me in now?”
Tony glanced my way, and I felt a surge of nausea. “It’s not his fault,” I began. “He—”
“I would’ve told you if it had come up,” Tony said, looking at Alex. “But it didn’t.”
Alex let out a bitter laugh. “I’d say you made sure it didn’t come up. I understand, though … Savannah’s your boss so you have to be more loyal to her than to me. I guess she owns you now … since she gave you that ten grand.”
Allison’s body crumpled into her chair. She looked down at her skirt while Tony’s gaze shot among her and me and Alex, whose allergy seemed to be worsening. The whites of his eyes were pink, and he rubbed them before sneezing twice.
“What ten grand?” Tony asked.
I glared at Alex. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you so very much.”
That woke him up. Scorn drained from his face and he reached over to touch my hand, but I yanked it away. Then I shifted my focus to Tony, who was staring at Allison because she wouldn�
�t look at him.
“What is he talking about?” Tony asked.
“I gave Allison ten thousand dollars,” I said quickly, “to use toward the down payment on your new house. It was your Christmas bonus … but I knew you wouldn’t take it.”
“You’re right,” he said after a stunned pause. “And we’re giving it back.”
Allison shook her head. “We can’t, Tony. I’ve already invested it with Alex’s brother … it’s locked up for a while, and we’d lose a lot if we asked for the money now.” She jerked her head toward Alex, her face in a furious twist. “Why did you have to say that?”
“Because he’s drunk,” I said disgustedly.
Alex’s shoulders slumped. “I am,” he said, and rubbed his forehead before turning to Allison. “And I’m really—”
“Excuse me,” Allison said, leaping up from her seat. “I need to get some air.”
Alex watched her flee from the table. “I’m going to go and apologize to her,” he said.
“Good idea,” I snapped.
Then he was gone, and there were two empty seats next to me, which I slid across to sit beside Tony. His arms were folded and he was eyeing me indignantly.
“Tony,” I said, “please don’t be mad at Allison … or at me. You deserve that money, and Allison and Marjorie do, too. Think about how much sooner you can buy your house.”
He kept staring, his youthful face stern and unyielding. Then he loosened his arms and rubbed his hair with his palm, leaving an unruly auburn mess. His chest heaved and fell as he inhaled a deep breath and slowly released it. “Okay,” he said after thinking for a while. “You’re right. I guess I’m still learning not to let my pride get in the way of your generosity.”
I shook my head. “The check wasn’t so generous. I’d pay the whole down payment if—”
“If I’d let you. But I won’t. And I’ll only accept this ridiculously extravagant gift on the condition there won’t be any more.”
“Well,” I said reluctantly, “if it’ll make you keep the ten thousand … then I agree.”
“I’m holding you to that,” he said, finally giving me a smile. “And thank you.”
I smiled back at him. I thought the old adage about giving being better than receiving was a fact, and it was no wonder that Edward had dished out so much philanthropy. “I hope Alex found Allison,” I said, turning toward the dance floor. Midnight was near, and its approach brought louder music and an even bigger crowd.
“I think I’ll try to find her myself,” Tony said. “Do you mind if Allison and I skip out before the clock strikes twelve? I got too old for late-night parties the day Marjorie was born.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t miss the midnight toast, but it’s okay if you want to. And since you’re going to search for your wife, I suppose I should find my blabbermouth boyfriend.”
We left the table and started shoving through the mob. We were halfway through when we ran into Alex, who had taken off his jacket and slung it over his arm.
“Hey,” he said cautiously, looking between Tony and me before he let out a sneeze. “Allison’s outside … she said it’s getting too noisy in here and she wants to go home.”
“Is she still upset?” Tony asked.
Alex shook his head. “She’s fine. She accepted my apology … and I hope you will, too.”
Tony slapped Alex’s shoulder. “It’s no problem, my friend.”
Alex smiled. They gave each other one of those two-second man hugs and a hard smack on the back before they said good night, and then Tony left and it was just Alex and me, lodged between people who were dancing and pounding down drinks. Their faces kept turning ghostly white from the flash of a camera held by Fabian Spader’s photographer. He and Fabian were nearby, poised like jackals waiting for a fresh kill.
Alex didn’t see them because he was focused on me. “I’m sorry,” he said.
His eyes were pleading and even more bloodshot than before, and the lids were slightly swollen. “It’s all right,” I told him, raising my voice over the music. “You shouldn’t have said those things to Tony … but I know you didn’t mean it. You were just angry about my conversation with Caroline.”
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “I was … and I still am.”
“But there’s no reason to be. The Senator Caldwell thing … it shouldn’t cause problems between us. I am going to keep trying to figure out what happened to Edward … and like I said before, I won’t let you dictate what I can and cannot do.”
“Savannah,” he said, “you’ve got it wrong. I’m not trying to—”
“I can barely hear you. Let’s go outside so we can talk.”
A light burst in his eyes. He blinked and squinted and looked around, and he frowned when he saw Fabian, whose photographer snapped another picture of Alex and two of me. “That son of a bitch,” Alex snarled as he scowled in Fabian’s direction.
I caught Alex’s face in my hands and turned it toward me. “Ignore him,” I said.
“I can’t. Do you think I’ve forgotten that shit he started about you on the Internet?”
“Listen,” I said, standing on my toes to speak into his ear, “I haven’t forgotten it, either. But I know how to handle him … so please do what I ask. Don’t talk to him, and come outside with me. He’s just baiting us so we’ll argue with him and he can write about it on his blog.”
Alex gave me a grudging nod and we turned toward the exit, but Fabian and his partner blocked our way as the shutter on their camera snapped open and closed. The flashes started again, popping in our eyes and leaving splotches behind.
“Fuck off,” Alex told them, his voice coming out in a deep growl.
Fabian snickered. Then he grinned at me. “I never caught you under the mistletoe, Savannah … so I hope your boy toy here is in a sharing mood. I want to kiss you at midnight … in places more intimate than your mouth.”
My pulse seemed to halt as I feared what Alex might do next. Then I put my hand on his chest like I had when I was trying to stop him from tearing apart that jerk in the subway station. His heart was thumping just as fast as it had been that day, his jaw was tight, and he was taking deep breaths in and out of his nose. But he wasn’t filled with tequila and vodka and rum then like he was now, and I knew it would be even harder to restrain him.
“Get out of our way,” I told Fabian as I puffed out my chest, which was a mistake because it drew his gray eyes there.
“That dress hugs you in all the right places. I only wish it wasn’t so tight here,” he said, lifting his finger to make a circular motion in the air that traced my left breast. “Why not loosen it up? Then it might fall down … and my readers would adore a close-up photo of a Savannah Morgan nip slip.”
Alex dropped his jacket. His hand shot past me and grabbed Fabian’s throat. I skidded in my heels as I tried to hold Alex back, but I couldn’t, and I didn’t have to. Two men were trying to pry him off Fabian as the photographer took pictures and women gasped. Faces around me blurred—some I’d never seen before, others I recognized from TV, and one I knew too well. It belonged to Jack, who was in the crowd and watching those guys struggle to separate Alex from Fabian. When they finally did, Fabian coughed and wheezed and clutched his throat, but I could tell he was putting on a thick layer of drama. He wasn’t really hurt, and there would be no permanent damage from anything except what was inside his photographer’s camera.
It would go viral tomorrow. I could see the headline: “Stone News Heiress Savannah Morgan’s Boyfriend Attacks Famous Blogger.” But I didn’t care that people would be reading about me. I’d been through that before. I could deal with it, and it just didn’t matter. But it did matter that Alex was going to get smeared. I was sure the esteemed advertising agency of Fletcher, Cole, Goddard and Bristol would pull his employment offer when it saw evidence of his short fuse and violent tendencies, and Fabian would dredge up Alex’s past and Mike Neill and turn a tragic accident into a celebrity scandal.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing Alex’s arm.
He didn’t pick up his blazer, which was under a gaping spectator’s blinged-out slingbacks. We made our way through the mob, passing stares and whispers until we were outside the revolving doors and in the biting air. We’d left our coats inside, but I wasn’t cold. I was so furious that I was sweating when I led Alex away from the people milling around the entrance and toward an empty spot on the sidewalk.
“Why did you do that?” I asked angrily.
“Why did I do what?” he yelled. “Do you expect me to stand there and let some motherfucking scumbag talk to my girlfriend like that?”
“Calm down,” I said. My ears ached and rang from hours of too-loud music, and his dirty mouth didn’t help. It was no better than what had come from that idiot he’d wrestled to the subway station’s floor. “I wish you wouldn’t cuss so much, Alex. You sound like…”
I paused. He waited for me to finish, but I didn’t.
“Like what?” he asked.
Like an oaf and a brute and the goons in your neighborhood on Staten Island. Not that I have anything against Staten Island. I’m a fan of Staten Island. I just don’t love the goons.
“Nothing,” I said, and moved on. This was so complicated that it made my head hurt, and I rubbed it as I tried to calm down. “Alex,” I began, “I appreciate that you want to defend me, but … since I inherited my father’s money, I’m in a position that makes the Fabian Spaders of the world want to destroy me and everyone I care about. It doesn’t matter what he writes about me, but I can’t stand that he’s going to trash you. And I warned you about this … I asked you to let me handle people by myself because it’d cause trouble if you didn’t … and you told me you would.”
He shook his head. “No, Savannah. I said I would try. And I have.”
“Not hard enough,” I muttered.
He threw his hands in the air, stomped his feet as he paced around in a circle, and looked at me again. “I’ve tried harder than you will ever know to meet your never-ending demands.”
“My demands?” I said.
“Yeah … the list of expectations you’ve forced on me. You wanted me to accept your gifts, so I have. You asked me to control my temper, and I’ve done the best I can. And now—even though you won’t admit it—I get the feeling that even my language offends you. What else is wrong with me, Savannah? Point out all my other deficiencies so I can fix them, too.”
Independently Wealthy: A Novel Page 12