Independently Wealthy: A Novel

by Lorraine Zago Rosenthal

  “Excuse me?” I said.

  “I’ve heard your father left you everything he had … which we all know is billions. So no financial offer will work, will it?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “What I mean is,” he said, “I want you to stay the hell away from my boy.”

  What an idiot I was. I should have known that tonight was just a calculated ruse, a joke on me and Wes, and Jonathan had wormed his way into this dinner only to get rid of me.

  “You’re not even sick, are you?” I asked.

  He laughed, pulled the napkin off his lap, and tossed it onto the table. “Wes thinks I am, and that’s what matters. Thanks for mentioning the flu, by the way … that helped a lot.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It helped you to fool your son.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve noticed I have a dutiful child. He’s also my only child, and we’ve always been very close. We’ve been even closer since his slut of a mother betrayed us. Wes is concerned about my welfare, and he tends to sacrifice his happiness for my sake … except when it comes to women. I didn’t care for his last girlfriend and I warned him that she was a superficial brat … but he didn’t listen, and he got his heart broken just like I predicted.”

  “Well,” I said, “I’d assure you that I have no plans to break his heart … but I don’t think that’s what you’re truly concerned about.”

  He leaned toward me. “Did you honestly think I’d stand by and allow Wes to sully himself with the daughter of Edward Stone? That man was a philanderer and a home-wrecker who destroyed my marriage and my life, and I won’t let his illegitimate spawn latch onto a child of mine.”

  Illegitimate spawn. He couldn’t have found a more cringe-worthy term, but he obviously wanted to make me squirm. Instead I sat up straight and tossed my hair.

  “You don’t have any say in this,” I told him. “Wes isn’t bothered by who my father was.”

  “In case you haven’t figured it out by now,” Jonathan said, “Wes is an idealist. He’s a dreamer. He sees sunshine in everyone, and he’ll keep looking at it until he gets burned. But I won’t let that happen this time—not after everything he’s been through, and definitely not by a daughter of the man who’s been the cause of all my family’s misery.”

  “Jonathan,” I began calmly, but he cut me off.

  “That’s Mr. Caldwell to you. The first-name thing was purely for Wes’s benefit.”

  “Clearly,” I continued, “you believe everything you’ve done tonight is for Wes’s benefit. I can’t say I blame you … I know he’s been hurt by what’s happened, and I don’t want him to suffer anymore, either. I’d never hurt him … but you will if you keep trying to break us up. I’m sure he’d be disappointed if he heard the things you’ve said to me tonight.”

  “But he hasn’t heard them. And I want to know what it’ll take for you to keep it from him. Tell me what I can do to make sure you never see my son again.”

  Unbelievable. I’d come here for prime rib and romance and I ended up with a bribery offer from a man with pure hatred in his cold eyes. “Nothing,” I said. “I will keep this from Wes … not because you want me to, but because I care about him. And I’m not going to stop seeing him.”

  He shook his head, suddenly focusing on my hair and my face. “Like father, like daughter—right? It figures a bastard would sire a bitch.”

  “That’s completely unnecessary,” I snapped. “You don’t even know me.”

  “But I knew him,” Jonathan said.

  “Look,” I said, “I understand your feelings toward my father. You hate him because he had an affair with your wife.”

  “And your mother,” he said with a snicker.

  My temperature spiked a few degrees. “You can keep my mother out of this, sir. Now I’m not condoning Edward’s relationship with Mrs. Caldwell, but he wasn’t the cause of all your misery. Your former employer had something to do with that, didn’t it? Maybe you did, too. Wes believes you’re innocent about Lake Kolenya, but I don’t.”

  He lowered his voice into an angry hiss. “Do you really want to talk about innocence? You can get up on your high horse and accuse me and Terrence Miller all you want—”

  “What?” I said.

  “How do you think I first found out that you’d slithered your way into my son’s life? Terry called to tell me that you were in D.C. and implying things—including that he might’ve been involved in your father’s death. Well, let me tell you something,” he said as he inched toward me on his chair, “you should save your judgment for those who deserve it. Terry and I might not be perfect people, but at least we’ve never screwed another man’s wife. And I don’t know if that drunk in Bensonhurst was responsible for getting rid of your father, but if he did … he deserves a medal. This world is better off without Edward Stone. God only knows whose family he would’ve destroyed next.”

  Wes was walking toward us. Jonathan saw him and starting coughing.

  “Sorry I took so long,” Wes said when he reached our table. He handed his father a glass of water and patted his back. “There was a line.”

  “No problem,” Jonathan replied, as if we’d been discussing something as benign as the menu. He sipped some water and then stood up slowly, grimacing all the way like he was in excruciating pain. He pulled his jacket off his chair and looked at me. “Are you ready to go, Savannah?”

  I didn’t miss the double meaning. He probably thought his venom about my father would drive me away from his son, but he was wrong about that. Still, my energy was sapped and I couldn’t fake pleasantries with him during a cab ride to Manhattan.

  “You know,” I said, “since I’m here … and I’m hungry … I think I’ll stay and have dinner by myself.” I looked at Wes. “Can we spend the day together tomorrow?”

  “My flight back to D.C. is early tomorrow afternoon. But we could spend the morning together … I can go to LaGuardia straight from your place. Can I come by at nine thirty?” he asked, and I nodded, and I felt guilty when he leaned down to kiss me good-bye. I wasn’t really going to eat dinner here, and I couldn’t wait to leave so I could call Caroline and tell her that Jonathan had moved higher on my suspect list.

  I watched through a window until he and Wes left in their cab, and then I dashed outside, hopped into a taxi, and immediately called Caroline. “I met Jonathan Caldwell tonight,” I told her breathlessly as the taxi headed toward Manhattan.

  “What?” she said.

  She must have been at a party. I heard music and laughter behind her. “I was supposed to have dinner with Wes,” I went on. “But his father came along for the sole purpose of trying to convince me to stop seeing his son.”

  The background noise quieted. I heard a door close, like she’d shut herself inside an empty room. “That doesn’t surprise me, Savannah. It makes sense that Jonathan loathes Dad.”

  “Does he ever,” I agreed. “In fact, he said the world is better off without Edward … and after seeing that man’s hatred firsthand, I think Ned’s PI should take a closer look at him.”

  “You’re right,” Caroline said. “Call Ned and tell him that.”

  “Can you do it? He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  “What makes you think so?” she asked.

  “He said I don’t want to talk to you,” I told her, remembering the only time I’d seen Ned since our conversation in the limo. I’d run into him on Thursday morning in the lobby at Stone News, and I said hello, and what I’d just repeated to Caroline was all I got back before he walked into an elevator and let the doors shut in my face. “He’s freezing me out,” I went on, “because he’s unhappy I’m seeing Wes.”

  “He is unhappy about it. And I know I said I’d support you on that issue … but after what happened with Jonathan tonight, are you sure you still want to continue your relationship with Wes? It seems like you’ll be constantly haunted by—”

  “Dishonesty?” I asked, sinking lower i
nto my seat.

  “Yeah,” she said. “That isn’t good. It’s not fair to Wes, either.”

  I thought about that through a sleepless night while I watched TV and roamed around my apartment. It was dawn when I decided Caroline was right, and even though I had feelings for Wes and couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing him, there wasn’t any choice. Maybe this time, I would have to be the one to make sure he didn’t get burned.

  *

  There was a knock at exactly nine thirty. I’d been waiting for it since dawn, when I threw on jeans and a sweater and stared at the clock. Now Wes was here and I walked toward the door, running through all the let-him-down-easy lines I’d been conjuring up for hours.

  “Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he rolled his suitcase inside and closed the door behind him. We stood in the middle of the room, where he flashed his irresistibly crooked smile before he draped his arms around my hips and gave me the most hypnotizing kiss.

  “Wait,” I said, pushing him away … but not very hard.

  “For what?” he murmured in a breathy voice before kissing me again.

  I couldn’t remember. Or maybe I didn’t want to. I closed my eyes and kissed him back as we moved toward the couch. He rested me on the cushions, tore off his coat, and tossed it away.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss me again.

  Last night. I turned my head, remembering why I couldn’t let this go on.

  Wes’s forehead wrinkled. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”

  I sat up slowly. “I’m just … tired. I didn’t get any sleep.”

  “Aw,” he said sympathetically when he settled down next to me. “I hope you didn’t catch whatever my father had. I know you thought it was the flu, but it was probably just one of those short-lived stomach viruses … he was much better this morning.”

  “Shocking,” I mumbled, staring at a lamp.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Never mind,” I said, and then he moved closer to me on the couch and went for another kiss. But I turned my head, and his lips slipped across my cheek and landed by my left ear.

  “Savannah,” he said, looking confused. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

  I started to wring my hands. “I … have to talk to you about something important.”

  Now he seemed worried. “All right,” he said, and sat back into the couch. “What is it?”

  “Wes,” I began, “I think you’re an incredible guy…”

  I stopped, watching his face fall. He was probably having a PTSD flashback to the last girlfriend who’d dumped him, and I hated to be the cause of that, but I kept reminding myself that I had no choice. So I inhaled a breath and pressed forward. “But I—”

  “You’re breaking up with me already,” he said, like he couldn’t bear the long-winded and flattering speech I’d spent hours preparing.

  “Well,” I went on, still wringing my hands, “it’s just—”

  “It’s because of my father, isn’t it? You’re upset because I left you at the restaurant and went home with him last night.” He gently sifted my hair through his fingers. “I’m sorry about that, Savannah. I’m really sorry. I just wanted to help him … but maybe I should’ve made you my priority. I promise to do that next time. Please don’t be mad at me.”

  I wished he wouldn’t plead like that. “The fact that you left to take care of your father,” I said, “is one of the things that makes you a fantastic person. I’m not upset about it at all.”

  “Oh,” he said, sounding surprised and relieved as he shifted his hand from my hair to my knee. “Then what could be wrong? Did I say or do something that bothered you? Just tell me what it was … and I’ll never do it again. I’ll fix the problem.”

  If only you could. But it’s unfixable.

  His palm was still on my knee. I rested my hand on top of his. “Please don’t blame yourself, Wes. You’ve done everything right. You’ve been amazing.”

  He tilted his head and studied my face. “Then why are you trying to end things? I mean … that’s what’s going on here, isn’t it? I’ve heard the You’re-an-incredible-guy line before.”

  So much for my originality. Maybe the rest of what I’d planned to say was just as trite and I needed a few extra minutes to come up with something else. “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked, springing off the couch.

  “No,” he said, and reached for my sleeve. But I was already too far away. “I just want you to tell me what’s—”

  “I need a drink,” I interrupted, wishing it wasn’t too early for that Southern Comfort left over from the holidays. “I’ll be right back.”

  I headed toward the kitchen and accidentally bumped into Wes’s suitcase. It toppled onto the hardwood floor, and I heard something crack inside.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, glancing at Wes on the couch. Not only was I ending our relationship, I was also destroying his property. I couldn’t have felt worse for him. “I’m so sorry. That sounded like glass in the front pocket … was it your cologne?”

  “Probably … but it doesn’t matter,” he said.

  “Of course it does. I’ll replace whatever I broke.”

  He shook his head. “Just forget it, Savannah.”

  I crouched beside the suitcase. “They won’t let you through security at LaGuardia carrying luggage filled with liquid and broken glass. Let me clean it up.”

  “No,” he said. “I’ll deal with it myself.”

  I’d already unzipped the pocket and looked inside, but I didn’t find the shattered bottle I expected. Instead I saw a piece of crystal in the shape of a snowflake that was broken in half. It was inscribed with my name and STONE NEWS CORPORATION, and it was what I’d dropped on Senator Caldwell’s lawn the night I first saw Wes—when I didn’t know who he was.

  I pulled the pieces out of the pocket, straightened up, and turned toward him, feeling goose bumps erupt all over my skin. “Where did you get this?” I asked, holding two jagged crystal chunks in the air. My voice came out shaky.

  “Is that what broke?” he asked. “I figured it was my cologne like you said.”

  “No, Wes … it’s a Christmas ornament … and it belongs to me.”

  “It does,” he said regretfully. “I’m sorry it’s ruined. And to answer your question, I found it at my mother’s house. You must’ve dropped it outside when you were there.”

  I nodded. “I’m aware of that. But … when did you find it?”

  “The last time I was in Larchmont … I was planning to give it back to you.”

  I swallowed hard. “When were you in Larchmont? Was it … before we met in D.C.?”

  He shook his head. “Of course not, Savannah. If I’d found that thing back then, don’t you think I would’ve brought it up earlier?”

  I glanced down at the broken ornament in my hands. I cleared my throat to steady my voice before I looked at him again. “You should have brought it up. But you didn’t, and I can’t imagine when else you could have found this. I’ve known you for two weeks … we were together in D.C. during the first one, and you never mentioned being at your mother’s house during the second.”

  He shrugged. “We agreed to keep our parents out of our relationship, right? That’s what I was doing.” He stood up from the couch, walked toward me, and carefully took the sharp crystal pieces from my hands. “Let’s get rid of these before you cut yourself.” He left them on the arm of a nearby chair and gave me his left-sided smile. But it just didn’t look special anymore. “Moving on,” he said in a cajoling tone. “We have to finish what we were talking about before. I don’t want to lose you … and I want a chance to fix whatever is wrong. But you have to tell me what that is.”

  Jonathan had been what was wrong. But now there was something else, and a jumble of thoughts raced through my brain. “When, exactly, were you in Larchmont?” I asked.

  He let out a short, amused laugh. “Boy, you really are becoming an invest
igator. Why are you so stuck on that?”

  “Because if you were in New York during the past week, I’m sure you would’ve mentioned it. But … you didn’t.”

  “I wasn’t in New York then,” he said. “I drove up to Larchmont after I landed yesterday.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How could you have driven?”

  “I rented a car. I picked it up at the airport.”

  “You couldn’t have. You met me here at six, and you landed at four … and by the time you left the plane and got your suitcase, and—”

  “Savannah,” he said gently and with a smile as he rested his hand on my shoulder, “I didn’t land at four. It was nine in the morning. I told you that.”

  I distinctly remembered otherwise. I shook my head. “That isn’t true.”

  “Sure it is,” he said, still speaking in a soft, calm voice. “You’re mistaken, that’s all. Now stop worrying about this, okay? You’re aggravating yourself over nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  It did matter. I was sure he was trying to fool me, and he must have found that ornament lying in the snow the same night I dropped it. He’d most likely seen it on his way into his mother’s house after I ran into him on my way out, and she’d probably told him I’d been there and everything I’d said.

  Maybe our meeting in D.C. hadn’t been an accident. Maybe he knew who I was all along. And I hadn’t wanted to tell him that my suspicions about his father were why we had to stop seeing each other, but now I didn’t need to. I had a more frightening reason.

  “If you were going to give that back to me,” I said, nodding toward the crystal pieces on the chair, “then why didn’t you? You didn’t even mention it last night.”

  He shrugged. “I just forgot. There was so much going on … and I was planning to do it while I was here this morning … but you distracted me,” he said as he squeezed my shoulder and gave me a coy grin.

  He was coming up with good excuses, but I didn’t buy them. I wasn’t going to let him flirt his way out of this or seduce me into ignoring the voice inside my head saying he was a phony. I also couldn’t get rid of the sad, sinking feeling that I’d let him in on something that meant so much to me but was probably a big joke to him.