Independently Wealthy: A Novel

by Lorraine Zago Rosenthal

  He rubbed his chin and seemed to be thinking that over. “Well,” he said finally, “that’s a rather positive euphemism, considering what it refers to.”

  I nodded as we strolled by an antique shop. Then we passed a bar and a boutique, and we were nearing the café when someone called Wes’s name—a guy we saw standing outside the bar after we turned around. He was dressed in a suit but his tie was undone and draped loosely around his neck, and he was smoking a cigarette. He tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under his foot, and walked toward us with a confident swagger.

  “Wesley Caldwell,” he said. “I haven’t seen you since graduation day at Georgetown.”

  “Tyler Durant,” Wes said. “Good to see you.”

  Tyler was a somewhat bloated young guy with blondish hair and a Rolex like the one Ned always wore. He smiled and shook Wes’s hand and patted him on the back, but I sensed that Wes was only pretending it was good to see him. Wes introduced us, and Tyler shook my hand.

  “What are you doing in Old Town?” Wes asked him.

  “Postbusiness meeting drink-fest with some captains of industry from Chicago,” he said. “I was showing them around our fair city after dinner at Morton’s. Wooing clients is a pain in the ass, but at least Chamberlain and Roth picks up the tab.”

  “So you’re still working there,” Wes said.

  “Hell yeah,” he replied indignantly. “I’m not crazy enough to throw away two long years slaving on the partnership track. And what about you? Which firm are you with now?”

  Wes shook his head. “I’m not with a firm … I’m still at Legal Aid.”

  Tyler’s mouth fell open. “You surprise me, Wes. I figured you’d get that out of your system after six months and join a firm like the rest of us. They’d still hire you at Chamberlain, you know … the higher-ups thought a lot of your work when we were clerks.”

  “They did,” Wes said. “But it wasn’t what I wanted to do.”

  Tyler nodded as a horse-drawn carriage passed by. I heard hooves clomping against the cobblestones and held my hand to my nose to block the horse’s scent, thinking about how wrong it was that an animal was forced to walk in circles all day. As far as I was concerned, horses should be running around a grassy field out in the country. They didn’t deserve a life of drudgery, stuck on a city street for people’s entertainment and profit.

  “Are you sure?” Tyler asked. “One of our associates recently switched firms … the spot is still open and I’d put in a good word for you … not that you need it. Your class rank was higher than mine at Georgetown … and you were the only one of us who got an A in Antitrust Law.”

  Wes smiled. “I appreciate the offer … but I’m happy where I am.”

  “How can you be? It’s a dead end.”

  The sound of the horse’s hooves faded along with Wes’s smile. He kept quiet, but I couldn’t. “You’re wrong. It’s a meaningful job and a starting point for Wes’s political career.”

  “Oh,” Tyler said slowly, shifting his eyes from me to Wes. “The Senate?”

  “Congress,” Wes replied dully.

  Tyler nodded. “Good for you. You’ve got balls to go in that direction, especially after what happened to your mother … and your father, too. For the record, I think they’ve both been treated unfairly by the media … and even though I’m sure they’ll be vindicated, the press has created such a shit storm that neither of them will ever be able to recover from it. It’s a shame that all of your parents’ education and work has gone down the toilet.”

  I supposed there was a reason Wes hadn’t seen Tyler Durant since their graduation day. Tyler was so dense, he probably thought he was being compassionate. Wes and I had been doing a great job of putting our parents’ problems out of our minds, but now they were fouling the air even worse than that horse’s stench.

  Tyler glanced over his shoulder. “I’d better get back,” he said, and then he shook hands with Wes and tried to do the same with me, but I just gave him a sub-zero stare and watched him disappear into the bar, wishing he’d never come out of it.

  Wes looked at me. “Do you mind if we skip dessert? I’m just … not in the mood.”

  I mulled that over for a moment. “You know what?” I said finally. “I’m not, either. But we should have dessert anyway … and we should enjoy it … because we can’t let people like that,” I said, jerking my head toward the bar, “ruin our moods.”

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re right. It’s just … I try to forget everything, but it surfaces one way or another. Even though I push it back down, it’s always … there.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s our very own Recent Unpleasantness.”

  His crooked smile crossed his lips. “I don’t think I can justifiably compare our situation to the Civil War, but—”

  “War of Northern Aggression. You’ll have to call it that if we’re going to be friends.”

  He laughed, which was what I’d hoped for. “Maybe we’d better not discuss it all. And as far as our Recent Unpleasantness … I might be wrong to say this, but I’m glad we can share it. I can’t talk about the situation with many people … nobody could understand like you do.”

  I felt the same way about him. “You aren’t wrong, and I’m happy that I can share it with you, too. I mean … how many twentysomething Americans know what it feels like to watch their parents being trashed in the media?”

  “Not many,” he said. “It’s a pretty exclusive club.”

  I smiled and motioned toward the café. “So are we ready to go in?”

  Wes nodded. “Thanks for cheering me up. Maybe I can return the favor by giving you that tour of D.C. we didn’t do today. I’ve got some vacation days stored, so I can take off work again tomorrow … but can you miss your conference?”

  I’d already been through a tour of D.C. But I wasn’t going to tell Wes that, because I wouldn’t mind seeing the landmarks again if I was with him. I glanced down at my boots, thinking about something I had to admit.

  I looked up at him. “There’s no conference. The only reason I came here was to confront Terrence Miller about Edward. I hope you won’t hold that lie against me.”

  Wes leaned his shoulder against a storefront. “I won’t. And I told you I’d give you a chance with Terry … so I will. Amicus is hosting a black-tie gala at the Mayflower, and I’ve been invited to attend with a guest. Terry still includes me in his major social events … so it looks like there are no hard feelings and he’s such a bighearted guy.”

  “Ugh,” I said, nearly gagging.

  “I wasn’t planning to go, but this would be the perfect chance for you to corner him. He’s not going to make a scene in a ballroom filled with colleagues and politicians. So if you’ll still be in D.C. on Friday and don’t mind being my date, I think you should come.”

  I almost laughed at the idea that any straight female would mind being his date. “I’ll still be here. My flight back to New York leaves early on Sunday morning … so I can definitely go to the gala with you. Thanks for doing this for me.”

  “It’s no sacrifice, Savannah. I can’t wait to see you make Terry squirm … and to spend more time with you.”

  I smiled as a gas lamp flickered behind his head. “I’d like to spend more time with you, too. I’d love that D.C. tour tomorrow.”

  “Great,” he said, taking a step away from the storefront. “So are you ready for dessert? This café has the best grasshopper pie.”

  This was my second and best reminder that Virginia was a Southern state. “I hate to be disagreeable … but my mama makes the best grasshopper pie. I’ll try a slice here, though.”

  I heard that horse again, heading in our direction down King Street. He was working the same route, pulling different passengers. The thought that he’d done this all day and would probably do the same tomorrow made my heart hurt.

  “What’s the matter?” Wes asked.

  “Oh,” I said wistfully, nodding toward
the horse. “I just hate unfair things.”

  Wes looked that way. “Yeah,” he said, “me too.”

  He gave me an encouraging smile and we started walking toward the café, listening to the horse’s hooves plod against those ancient stones.

  *

  “Excuse me,” said the waitress. “We’re closing now.”

  She walked away. Wes and I looked at each other over our plates covered with remnants of Oreo cookie crust from our grasshopper pie, and he seemed as surprised as I was that it was so late. We’d been talking and laughing for two hours, but it had felt more like minutes.

  I glanced at my watch. “I should find a cab to take me back to my hotel, especially if we’re going to get an early start on our sightseeing tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “I’ll meet you in the lobby at nine … and I’d like to drive you back to D.C. if that’s okay. I live right up the street … we can just grab my car and get going.”

  “That’s very considerate,” I said with a smile.

  He shrugged. “It’s really just a scheme to get another half hour with you.”

  I laughed as we stood up and slipped into our coats. Then we went outside and walked to Wes’s place, which was not far from the center of Old Town, but in a secluded area on a street lined with townhomes.

  His was on the corner. It was made of brick and had three stories and windows with dark-blue shutters. “This is precious,” I said, admiring the house as we stood on the sidewalk.

  “It was built in the mid-1800s,” Wes said. “All the houses in this neighborhood were … but they’re remodeled inside. Want to see mine?” He pulled his keys from his pocket and dangled them in the air.

  I nodded. He unlocked the front door, and then we went inside and he showed me around. The house had modest-sized rooms and low ceilings and casual furniture, and the modern décor contrasted with original fixtures, like the fireplace in the living room. We stood beside it after Wes had shown me the rest of the house.

  “This is a beautiful home,” I told him.

  “Thank you. I wish I could say I bought it myself … but I didn’t. My parents gave it to me when I graduated from law school … and I also have a trust fund from my grandparents that helps out a lot.” He looked down at the wood floor as he jangled the car keys he was still holding. “I’m not sure why I told you that … I don’t usually admit it.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He shrugged, shifting his eyes to mine. “The guys I graduated with … like Tyler Durant … can afford to support themselves on their salaries. I feel sort of inferior that I can’t.”

  “You shouldn’t,” I said. “Unfortunately, the most important jobs often pay the least.”

  He smiled. “You sure do know how to boost a guy’s self-esteem.”

  “I’m just telling the truth, Wes. And we’re in the same position. My apartment was bought by my father. If I had to pay my own rent in Manhattan, I couldn’t afford a closet.”

  Wes laughed. And then he just looked at me. His undivided attention made my stomach flutter and my fingertips tingle and my knees turn to mush. Those feelings had disappeared during the month since Alex and I had broken up, and I hadn’t expected to feel them again so soon—especially from Senator Caldwell’s son.

  He stepped closer. I smelled his woodsy cologne and heard a car passing through the quiet neighborhood.

  He stuck his keys into his pocket and lifted his hand. He rested his palm on my face and slid it slowly and gently from my cheek to my chin, which he caressed with his thumb while he smiled at me. I stared back, feeling my heart pound beneath my sweater.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice coming out as soft as his touch. “You seem like you’re someplace else.”

  “I’m here,” I said, even though that was only half true.

  He moved his hand to my shoulder. “You mentioned having a boyfriend until recently. I’m hoping that wasn’t another—”

  “Lie?” I said quickly, because I wanted to get this cleared up. I needed to move on. “It wasn’t. There aren’t going to be any more lies between us … right?”

  “Right,” he said.

  I nodded. “I had a boyfriend, but now I don’t. And you don’t have a girlfriend … do you?”

  “Nope,” he answered as he shook his head. “Not since last summer.”

  “Oh. What happened last summer?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t being too nosy.

  He took his hand off my shoulder and let it drop to his side. “Since we’re putting everything out in the open, I guess I’ll add this to the pile. What happened is the allegations about my parents and my mother’s relationship with your father came out in the media.”

  He stopped. I was confused. “What does that have to do with your girlfriend?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “But that’s my opinion … and her father’s meant more to her. He’s a member of the Senate Committee on Energy and Natural Resources that my mother was forced to leave. My girlfriend of two years told me that her father thought it was … what was the word he used? Oh, yeah … he thought it was unsuitable for us to continue our relationship. He pays the rent on her apartment in DuPont Circle, so she does what he says.”

  There was a touch of anger in his voice, but I focused more on the sadness in his eyes. “Another one of those unfair things,” I said. “She should’ve stood by you through that situation instead of leaving you because of it. But if that’s the kind of person she is … you shouldn’t be with her, anyway.”

  He shifted his gaze to the hearth. “I know … and accepting that was a long and painful process.” He looked at me again. “But I have accepted it. What I had with her is over.”

  I nodded, focusing on the peaks in his upper lip. “Then there’s nothing in our way.”

  He moved so close to me that there was just a sliver of space between us, and he seemed even bigger and taller when we were only an inch apart. He put his hands on my shoulders as he leaned down and covered my mouth with his, giving me a kiss that felt warm and soft and held the flavor of our dessert—chocolate and crème de menthe. It tasted like one of my favorite things.

  *

  We couldn’t stop kissing.

  We were in Wes’s black Mercedes that was parked outside the Hay-Adams, and the bellmen at the entrance seemed to be yearning for the car to get out of their way. They couldn’t see us through the tinted windows, which was good because we were all over each other.

  “I don’t want you to go,” Wes said when our mouths parted for a moment. “But those guys might call the cops if I don’t move my car.”

  I giggled through the exhilarating buzz that I usually got from a martini or two. “We don’t want that headline in the blogosphere … ‘Senator Caldwell’s Son and Edward Stone’s Daughter Caught Making Out Like Teenagers’.”

  He laughed. “I hope you won’t consider me rude if I don’t walk you to your room.”

  I smirked, thinking it would be wiser but so much less exciting for me to go to my room alone. Otherwise I might be tempted to invite him in and keep him there until morning.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked.

  “At nine,” he said. “We can have breakfast here at the hotel if you want.”

  I agreed, we kissed good-bye, and I got out of the car and watched him drive away. Soon I was in my room, stretched out on my back in bed, still in my clothes and my makeup and listening to the TV that sounded far away. My mind was on Wes and everything that had happened today, and I was amazed I’d come to D.C. for Terrence Miller and ended up with Wesley Caldwell.

  My cell rang. I reached over to the night table to pick it up, and Tina’s voice came through before I could say hello. “Where’ve you been?” she asked. “I’ve been calling all day. I wanted to find out how you’re enjoying D.C.”

  “It’s great. My cell was turned off because … I was at the conference.” I squeezed my eyes shut as my head sank into a pillow. Just when I’d thought I was done lying, I had to st
art all over again. But I wasn’t going to lie about Wes. “And I went out with someone tonight.”

  “Which someone would that be?”

  I stared at the ceiling. “A guy,” I said.

  “Already?” she asked.

  I sighed, closing my eyes again. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want to hear.”

  “Well … I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant … it isn’t like you to get involved with a man so soon after breaking up with another one.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s totally against my principles. But it doesn’t feel wrong … and you were the one who told me that I need a fresh start.”

  “True,” she agreed, sounding more enthusiastic now. “So who is it?”

  I had to do this before I lost my nerve. I took a deep breath and spit it out.

  “Senator Caldwell’s son,” I said.

  I heard nothing except an episode of Fashion Police that Tina must have been watching. Joan Rivers was verbally shredding a movie star’s dress, but Tina was silent.

  “Are you kidding?” she said finally.

  “No,” I said, wishing she hadn’t asked that question. It made the situation seem strange and reckless, but that wasn’t how it felt. So I explained everything and hoped she’d understand, and by the time I stopped talking, it seemed she did.

  “You’re right,” she said. “You shouldn’t let your parents get in the way … and I’m going to support you on this. If you and Wes think you could have a relationship—”

  “I don’t know if that’s in our future. I’m forbidden to move out of New York … and I wouldn’t want to leave anyway, and I doubt he’d bail on D.C. He’s hoping to become a congressman.”

  “Ooh,” Tina purred. “That’s kind of hot.”

  “He’s even hotter,” I said.

  “Then don’t let him go. You can do the long-distance thing and see how it works out. Like I said, you shouldn’t let the Caldwell-Stone feud stop you. It’s romantic, actually … sort of like Romeo and Juliet. But you two won’t end up that way.”

  “I hope not,” I said with a laugh.

  We got off the phone a few minutes later, and then I went to sleep and woke up the next morning with my mind on Wes. He was waiting for me in the lobby, wearing khaki pants with a pullover made of black fleece beneath his bomber jacket. He walked toward me and planted a quick good-morning kiss on my lips. His mouth tasted like Aquafresh instead of chocolate and liqueur … but somehow that was just as good.