Swimming with Sharks

by Nele Neuhaus

  “How…how’s Oliver doing now?” she whispered.

  “I think he’s okay again,” Mark answered, “but he was in the hospital for almost three weeks.”

  Alex’s entire body shook. Her triumph over the sealed deal was forgotten. On top of her fear, she had deep feelings of guilt toward Oliver.

  “Here,” Mark said as he pushed another drink toward her, “drink something.”

  She raised her head and looked at Mark desperately.

  “I’ll never be able to make up for this,” she said quietly. “I had no idea! Oliver will hate me for it because he thinks that—”

  “No, he doesn’t hate you,” Mark said to her quickly. “Quite the contrary. But he’s very worried about you.”

  Alex didn’t believe that. She had put Oliver in jeopardy! Probably every man she spoke to was in danger if Sergio thought he was a threat to him. It was simply terrible, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Right at that moment, Zack entered the pub with another man. He looked around and grinned when he caught sight of Alex. Then he pushed his way through the crowd in her direction.

  “He’s the last thing that I need right now,” she muttered. “Don’t even think about leaving me alone, Mark.”

  “I’ll stay right at your side.”

  “Hello, gorgeous.” Zack squeezed himself next to Alex at the bar. She could smell that he’d already had plenty to drink. His usual pristine appearance was disturbed, his tie hung lopsided, and the top buttons of his shirt were open.

  “Zack, what are you doing here?” Alex pretended to be surprised.

  “Ray,” Zack said, turning to his companion, “what are we drinking? Vodka on the rocks?”

  The man with the thin blond hair grinned and nodded. His face seemed vaguely familiar, but Alex couldn’t place him.

  “Bartender,” Zack said, snapping his fingers, “two double vodkas on the rocks, not too much ice!”

  Alex’s only wish at that moment was to hole up somewhere. Zack observed her with a blurred gaze through bloodshot eyes. He took his glass and raised it in the air.

  “Here’s to our great, brilliant M&A chief,” Zack said, his pronunciation garbled but loud enough for people to hear every single word, “who descended from a bed on Park Avenue to party with the common people. Very generous of her!”

  “Are you crazy, Zack? What is this?”

  “I admire you, Alex Sontheim, I admire you!” Zack put his arm around her shoulders as if he had permission to do so and whispered, “So, where’s your rich lover now, hmm? Or do you have permission to be out alone tonight?”

  “You’re drunk.” She tried to break free from him, but Zack had a firm grip on her.

  “That was pretty clever of you, Alex; I give you that,” he continued. “You got in bed with the right guy, hats off! Did you also make a play for Vince? He’s eating from the palm of your hand, the bastard. Just like the entire rest of this stupid outfit, they’d all love to f—”

  “That’s enough!” Alex interrupted him brusquely. He laughed maniacally and downed his vodka in one gulp.

  “Another!” he yelled over to the bartender.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “I don’t have a problem.” He grinned, but his eyes shone with pure hatred. His lips touched her cheek, and he hissed, “I love to stand in your shadow. I love to be the idiot who does all of your dirty work. It turns me on when all I hear is Alex, Alex, Alex!”

  She wiped his spit from her cheek in disgust. The grin had vanished from his face—Alex was shocked to realize the extent of his envy. He was jealous of her success and her standing with the board, and he was angry because he didn’t have a chance with her. His friendliness had been a facade all along. Zack wasn’t her friend. Quite the contrary. She slid off her bar stool.

  “I’m leaving now,” she said coolly. “You’re completely drunk.”

  “Yes, I’m drunk.” He was standing so close to her that she could see every pore in his face. “But don’t think that I’m as stupid as all those other idiots. You conned me, you little bitch. I won’t let you get away with it a second time!”

  Mark stepped in. He pushed Zack aside, which nearly triggered a brawl. But all of the men from Alex’s department kept Zack in check, allowing her to leave the bar unscathed. She stood on the street in the sleet.

  “Is everything all right?” Mark looked at her with so much concern and empathy that she almost lost the last bit of her self-control. The events of recent days had simply been overwhelming. Discovering that Sergio knew about her and Oliver was the last straw, and Zack’s mean vulgarities nearly sent her over the edge.

  “Yes, everything’s okay,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “I’ll take you home,” Mark offered. Alex thought about Oliver again. Maybe Sergio’s spies were lurking around every corner. In any event, she wanted to prevent something happening to Mark.

  “No, it’s all right. I’ll take a cab. Go back inside and celebrate a little more.”

  “I can’t possibly leave you alone.” Mark remained firm, waving at a passing taxi that looked empty.

  “Yes, you can. It’s all right.” Alex managed to smile. “I’m okay.”

  “Can I at least call you later?” Mark was sincerely concerned. Alex nodded. Then she hugged him spontaneously.

  “Thank you for everything, Mark. Thank you for letting me trust you.”

  Mark swallowed and nodded. Alex quickly climbed into the waiting taxi and waved good-bye.

  It was early morning, and a pale-blue horizon arched across the sea. The December sun tried to provide a little warmth as Alex and Madeleine rode through the dunes down to the beach. Alex was happy that she had accepted Trevor and Madeleine’s invitation to Lands End House on Long Island. During her visit in July, she’d fallen in love with the massive red-brick mansion—which wasn’t pretentious despite its imposing size. Trevor’s great-great-grandfather had built it in 1845 at the northern end of Long Island, between the towns of Montauk and Amangansett, and it had been owned by the family ever since.

  Trevor and Madeleine had become good friends, and Alex felt protected and secure at their house. She enjoyed the cheerful family atmosphere in the house, with its magnificent Christmas decorations, the long conversations at the fireplace, and the unconditional sympathy that the Downeys were showing her, which Alex returned from her heart. Once, she had talked to them about Sergio because she thought that her friends had the right to know. She had anxiously waited for their reaction and prepared herself for outright rejection; instead, the Downeys accepted the situation without judgment.

  “I’m terribly nervous,” Madeleine said to Alex as they reached the beach. “I’ve been organizing this Christmas party for eighteen years now, but every time I’m worried that something will go wrong.”

  “Come on, Maddy,” Alex said with a grin, “what could possibly go wrong? You’re part of an experienced team, plus I’m here to assist you.”

  “I’m very grateful to you for that.” Madeleine sighed, but then she laughed. “You’re so pragmatic and always keep a clear head. I panic immediately.”

  “It’s my job to stay calm even if things go haywire.”

  “Imagine, Cliff Gordon and his wife are coming over from Martha’s Vineyard by helicopter.”

  Alex knew that Trevor was a college friend of Robert Gordon, the president’s younger brother, and that the two aristocratic families had been friends for generations.

  “You’re so incredibly genteel.”

  “Ah, stop mocking me!” Madeleine grinned. “You know just as many important people as I do.”

  “Let’s trot for a bit.” Alex preferred not to speak about the important people she knew. The stiff breeze stirred up the gray sea and caused large waves to roll onto the beach. The surf’s salty spray blew into both women’s faces. Alex took a deep breath and smiled. Sitting in the saddle with the cold wind in her face and the endless sea before her eyes, she forgot about her problems for a while and
once again felt just as free, as carefree, as when she was a child. The seagulls were struggling against the wind with their melancholy cries. The beach extended for miles all the way out to Montauk. A magnificent mansion appeared up on the dunes every now and then, but their inhabitants were still asleep at this time of the day. Alex’s horse started bucking boisterously. It wanted to gallop.

  “Just let him run,” Madeleine said. “I’ll catch up with you.”

  The two riders had reached the wide inlet of Stony Bay.

  “Okay!” Alex winked at her friend. “Let’s go!”

  The chestnut gelding suddenly rose up, which would have thrown an inexperienced rider out of the saddle. But Alex leaned forward and held on with her knees and thighs. The horse thundered along the beach with long, galloping strides and pricked ears, racing against the stormy wind and the seagulls. Faster, faster! She laughed happily. The wind drove tears into her eyes as she ducked behind the horse’s neck and enjoyed its magnificent, graceful strength.

  Strolling on the dunes with a golden retriever, two early walkers watched her with faces aghast as she raced past them like an incarnate Valkyrie. She let the horse circle the entire width of Stony Bay before slowly reducing her speed and looking around. The two walkers had reached the beach, and Alex saw that Madeleine had stopped to talk to them. She let her horse gallop once again. Her ponytail had come loose during the wild gallop and her blonde hair was flowing in the icy December wind, just like the horse’s flaxen tail.

  Madeleine waved at Alex. She slowed down the gelding a few yards ahead of them, and both of the walkers stepped back out of respect. Breathless, with reddened cheeks, she stopped her horse.

  “Isn’t she an excellent rider?” Madeleine said to the couple. All three of them watched Alex with undisguised admiration as she calmed down the nervous horse.

  “Yes, indeed,” the man said, “quite impressive.”

  “Alex!” Madeleine called out. “Do you know Nick and Mary Kostidis?”

  Alex turned her head, surprised. Sure enough, the man standing next to Madeleine’s horse was the mayor of New York. He looked completely different in his blue down jacket and jeans, but she immediately recognized those dark, burning eyes.

  “Hello,” she said, smiling. “Yes, we’ve met once before.”

  “Alex Sontheim,” Kostidis nodded, inspecting her closely, “at the Plaza. I remember.”

  Alex remembered how disdainfully Sergio had spoken about this man and how much he hated him. He called him a fanatic, an idiot, the plague. While Madeleine and Mary Kostidis talked about the horses, she wondered what the mayor was doing at seven thirty on Christmas morning on a deserted beach at the tip of Long Island.

  “Is Christopher with you at your sister’s place?” Madeleine asked the mayor’s wife.

  “No,” she said and laughed. “He’s spending Christmas with his future in-laws in the Hudson Valley.”

  Alex noticed that Kostidis watched her with steadfast eyes the entire time. She wasn’t sure why, but his searching, serious gaze disturbed and irritated her. If he knew who she was, then he would also know about her relationship with Sergio Vitali. Did she detect contempt in his stare? She tried to appear relaxed and indifferent. Madeleine and Mary were chatting, but Alex didn’t catch a single word of their conversation. Her eyes met those of Nick Kostidis. Their gazes interlocked for a few seconds. She felt a hot blush rising to her cheeks and turned away.

  “We need to keep going, Maddy,” she said. “The horses are sweating. They’ll catch a cold.”

  “Of course!” Madeleine made a guilty face. “I really lack horse sense sometimes!”

  “Enjoy your ride!” Nick Kostidis called to them. “See you later!”

  Madeleine smiled and waved. Alex cantered next to her without saying a word. Why did Kostidis look at her in such a strange way? The expression in his eyes was hard to read. He was probably saying to his wife at this second, “Did you see her? She’s Vitali’s lover. A gangster’s whore!” She hated to feel so insecure, and the prospect of Kostidis attending the Downeys’ party ruined her excitement. She felt like packing her suitcase and disappearing to avoid running into him again.

  Alex was still sitting in her room when the first guests arrived at Lands End House, and she contemplated whether she should go downstairs at all. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk. The horseback ride had shaken off her tense mood for a moment, but the unexpected encounter with Nick Kostidis abruptly destroyed her feeling of happiness. Alex didn’t feel comfortable in Kostidis’s presence, but then she also had the urge to see him. She couldn’t explain these conflicting emotions—this mixture of attraction and aversion. There was something in his eyes, an expression that she couldn’t interpret. Was it ridicule or contempt? Or was she just imagining all of this?

  She heard Christmas music and laughter from downstairs. She knew that Trevor and Madeleine would be disappointed if she didn’t join the party, so she finally slipped into her Ferragamo cocktail dress, checked herself out in the mirror, and with a sigh opened the door to go downstairs.

  The party was already in full swing. The Christmas gathering was as “small” as Sergio’s birthday party had been. Everyone who was anyone on the East Coast was invited. But in contrast to Sergio’s party, old money mingled here—the real upper class, America’s aristocrats. Northern Long Island was once called the “Gold Coast.” This name did not refer to the color of its sandy beaches, but to the wealth of its inhabitants. But it had been some time since bold-faced names or conspicuous wealth impressed Alex. She’d had to deal with gigantic amounts of money, and she knew the richest people in America. Somewhere in this crowd, she found Madeleine, who looked enchanting and girlish in her burgundy dress, her cheeks red with excitement.

  “How do you like it?” she called out with glowing eyes. “Isn’t it magnificent? I’m always nervous before, but once everyone is here, then it’s simply wonderful! The president and the first lady just arrived.”

  Madeleine hugged her and rushed on. Alex took a glass of champagne and strolled through the large house filled with unfamiliar people. In the blue salon she caught sight of the president talking to Trevor, Senator Hoffman, Governor Rhodes, Congressman James Vaillant III, and Nick Kostidis—who had changed from his jeans into a dark-gray suit and a red tie. She was just about to leave the room when Trevor saw her and waved her toward him. He pulled her into his circle with a smile.

  “Cliff,” he said to the president, “may I introduce Alex Sontheim? She’s a good friend of Maddy’s and mine.”

  Cliff Gordon offered her a friendly smile and reached out his hand.

  “I’m delighted to meet you, Ms. Sontheim.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Mr. President.” Alex’s heart was racing in excitement. Trevor also introduced her to the other gentlemen, and it occurred to Alex that she had seen the senator and Governor Rhodes at Sergio’s birthday party. She was curious what they would say if she mentioned that now. Trevor was describing the unusual circumstances in which Madeleine and Alex met about six months ago to the president, and he was impressed. The president asked about her work and—to her amazement—gave Alex his undivided attention.

  “You have an exceptional reputation on Wall Street,” he said. “Our country needs more people like you, Ms. Sontheim. Intelligent young people with civic courage.”

  She smiled in embarrassment. Cliff Gordon invited her to the White House, and she trembled with excitement and pride. But then she met eyes with Nick Kostidis, and she thought that she sensed a hint of mockery. The pride that she’d felt a second ago vanished instantly. She was relieved that others crowded around the president, and she excused herself. She escaped the crowd and went into an adjacent room and sat down in an armchair at the window.

  She could just kill Kostidis! He’d not only ruined her encounter with Cliff Gordon, but also her entire day! Alex Sontheim—the star of Wall Street, the selfless rescuer of the opera singer Madeleine Ross-Downey—was actually nothin
g but a girl from Germany who had gotten involved with a dubious social climber, Sergio Vitali, the godfather of New York City! What would President Gordon say if he found out she was the lover of a man who ordered murders?

  With tears welling up she searched for a cigarette in her purse. Someone cleared his throat behind her and she turned quickly around. She could hardly believe her eyes when Nick Kostidis of all people, whom she’d just escaped from, appeared in the doorway.

  “Hello,” she said in a discouraging tone, “if you’re looking for the restrooms, they’re two doors further down.”

  Kostidis smiled.

  “Thanks, I know,” he said and entered the room. “But I was actually looking for you.”

  “Really?” Alex took a drag from her cigarette. “Why?”

  She was mad about her teary eyes.

  “May I sit down with you for a moment?”

  She was about to tell him to go to hell, but she managed to keep her composure.

  He sat down in the armchair across from her. There was a tense moment of silence between them.

  “What can I do for you, Mayor Kostidis?”

  “Call me Nick,” he responded. “‘Mayor’ sounds so formal.”

  “Okay,” Alex said with a shrug. “Nick. So, what can I do for you?”

  “I’m not sure whether you can help me.” Nick crossed his legs and gave her another piercing look. She longed to get up and run away.

  “I hardly know you,” Kostidis continued. “Well, as a matter of fact, I don’t know you at all. But I’ve been following your professional career with great interest for quite some time now. And my friends Trevor and Madeleine speak very highly of you.”

  “Aha.” Alex was at the edge of her seat.

  “You’re a successful woman. Intelligent, ambitious, and courageous.”

  “And now you ask yourself why I’m involved with Vitali,” she interrupted him coolly. “That’s what you’re trying to get at, isn’t it?”

  If he was surprised, Kostidis didn’t let it show, but then he nodded slowly.