Fifth Ave 01 - Fifth Avenue (30 page)

“That’s right,” Louis said.
 
“And I bet it pisses your father off that I’m its owner and not him.”

“I have no idea what my father thinks.”

“Oh, come on,” he said.

“Sorry.
 
I wouldn’t know.”

“Of course, you do.
 
Your father makes it a point to own the biggest and the best of everything in this city.
 
All of New York knows that.
 
He must be furious that soon I’ll be running the largest hotel in Manhattan, not him.”

“What does any of this have to do with me, Mr. Ryan?”

“It’s Louis,” he said.
 
“And I’m getting to that.”

He walked to his desk and sat.
 
He lit a cigarette, exhaled and looked at Leana through the screen of gray-blue smoke.
 
“You don’t get along with your father, do you?”

Leana met his unwavering gaze with her own. “That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not,” he said.
 
“But it’s not exactly a secret.”

She let a silence pass.

“How old are you, Leana?”

“Twenty-five.”

“And your sister?”

She hesitated. “Twenty-nine.”

“That isn’t much of an age difference.”

“I guess it isn’t.”

“Last night, Harold told me that Celina was just a young girl when your father began taking her to board meetings at Redman International.
 
He neglected to say how old you were.”

“That’s because my father never took me to board meetings at Redman International.”

“Really?” he said.
 
“That’s odd.
 
Certainly you must have worked there at some point.”

“No,” Leana said.
 
“Never.”

“So, you didn’t have interest in the family business?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

She knew he was trying to get her angry, but she didn’t understand why.
 
“I guess I’m saying that my father didn’t want me around.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you incompetent?”

“Are you serious?”

“Isn’t it true that, in your father’s eyes, you never could quite compare to Celina?
 
That you didn’t measure up?
 
Isn’t that why you were shipped off to Switzerland all those years?”
 
He shrugged.
 
“Isn’t that why you got addicted to cocaine?”

Leana stood.
 
“You can go to hell.”

“I probably will,” Louis said.
 
“But while I’m still on this earth, you’d better let me help you while I can.
  
Now, sit down and cut out the sulking bullshit.”

Leana left for the exit.
 
What was Harold thinking sending me here?

Louis waited for her to cross the room and grasp the door handle before he called out to her.
 
“I could put you on top, you know.
 
I could make you the envy of this town, bigger than your sister Celina ever could hope to become.”

The temptation was great, but Leana opened the door and left the office.
 
She wouldn’t be treated like this by anyone.

She moved down the hall toward the wall of elevators, passing the same groups of men and women she envied earlier but no longer envied now.
 
Some seemed to recognize her along the way and she sensed them staring, as if they were wondering why George Redman’s daughter was here, of all places.

Behind her, a door opened.
 
And then his voice:
 
“Leana.”

She was on the cold rails of her control now, making steady progress toward the elevators.

“Leana.”
 
There was a new note in his voice.
 
“Please come back so we can talk. There was a reason for what I said.”

She turned to him.
 
He was standing just outside his office, smiling a smile that was not sarcastic, but apologetic.
 
What in God’s name do I want this bad?

When she returned to his office, she found him fixing them a drink at the bar.
 
Ice rattled as he poured what looked like vodka into two short glasses.
 
He tried to hand her one of the glasses, but put it on the counter when she refused it.

“I meant what I said, you know.
 
I can--and will--put you on top.”
 
He took a drink. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
 
He raised a hand. “No need to answer--I can see it in your eyes.
 
You’re angry as hell and I can’t say that I blame you.
 
Your father gave your sister the world and he left you with nothing.
 
It hurts.
 
I get it.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I hate your father.
 
He’s fortunate enough to have had two beautiful daughters and stupid enough to have treated only one of them fairly.
 
My father used to treat me the same way your father treats you.
 
My brother was the star--not me.
 
When Harold came last night and told me your story, I decided I wanted to help.”

“If you want to help me so badly, then why did you put me through that?”

“Because I needed to see if you had it in you to stand up to me--which you did.”
 
He looked toward the picture of a woman that rested on his desk.
 
“If I didn’t think you had guts, Leana, I could never offer you the position I’m about to offer you.”

“And what position is that?”

“The new hotel I’m building?” Louis said.
 
“I want you to run it for me.”

*
 
*
 
*

Like the waiters who worked there, the restaurant on 56th Street was chic, charming and Italian.
 
When Leana arrived, she checked her watch, saw that she was a few minutes early for her dinner date with Mario and went to the crowded oak bar that was to the right of the lobby.

The buzz of conversation was noticeably louder there and it surrounded her.
 
Leana sat on a wooden stool, ordered a glass of white wine and amused herself by watching the people.
 
She was feeling very, very giddy.
 
I just agreed to run the largest hotel in Manhattan--and I know zip about the hotel business.
 
So, I’m crazy.
 
And so what if I am?

The restaurant was filled with couples.
 
Leana turned and saw people of all ages talking and laughing and smiling.
 
At one of the corner tables, she noticed a young woman speaking to an older man.
 
They resembled each other.
 
The woman was talking quickly and her features were animated.

Leana wondered if they were father and daughter.
 
She wondered what news the woman was sharing and couldn’t help feeling a stab of envy.
 
Although she knew her father loathed Louis Ryan, Leana decided there was nothing more in the world she would like right now than to share with her father her own exciting news.

She looked away from the couple, knowing that day wouldn’t come.
 
While her sister shared a life with her father, Leana had shared only his house.

It was getting late.
 
Mario usually was punctual.
 
She wondered where he was.
 
She had just ordered her second glass of wine when a man in a dark blue suit placed a hand on the stool beside her.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked.

Leana was about to say it was when she noticed it was Michael Archer.
 
She felt an initial start, but stilled it.
 
“Now, this,” she said coolly, “is a surprise.”

Michael smiled.
 
“I could say the same.”

“It’s good to see you,” Leana said.
 
“What brings you here?”

“Good food and a beautiful woman.”
 
She glanced behind him and he added, “Who ultimately stood me up.”

“Oh, please.
 
Who stands you up?”

“It’s true,” he said.
 
“And it always happens with models.
 
Care to offer me some insight?”

“Just let me be clear on this,” she said.
 
“You date models?”

“Sometimes.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve heard all day.”

“Maybe a drink will make you feel better?”

Leana lifted her full glass of wine.
 
“Too late,” she said.
 
“But let me buy you one.
 
It will help cheer you up from your model malaise.
 
What would you like?
 
Something without calories?”

He laughed.
 
“Anything cold,” he said.
 
“The heat is murder today.”

He caught the barman’s attention and ordered a beer.
 
When it arrived, he took a long swallow and thanked Leana.

“My pleasure.”

“What brings you here?” he asked.
 
“I’m not interrupting something, am I?”

“You’re not interrupting a thing.
 
I’m supposed to be meeting a friend for dinner, but he’s late.
 
I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve been stood up, too.”

“How late is late?”

“Thirty minutes late.”

Michael lifted an eyebrow.
 
“You’ve got that kind of patience?
 
I was leaving after waiting only twenty minutes.”

“Oh, you novelists,” she said.
 
“Oh, you movie stars.
 
So busy.
 
So little time.”

He couldn’t help a smile.
 
“Have you given him a call?”

“No,” Leana said.
 
“But that isn’t a bad idea.”

She excused herself to use her cell phone at a quiet area of the restaurant.
 
She was reaching into her purse for it when a waiter tapped her on the shoulder.
 
“Leana Redman?”

Leana looked at the man.
 
“Yes?”

“Message for you.”
 
He handed her a slip of paper and left.

Leana knew the note was from Mario before she opened it.

Leana:

I tried calling you at Harold’s but you were out.
 
I’m not going to be able to make dinner tonight.
 
I forgot it’s Lucia’s birthday and I need to spend it with her and the kids.
 
Especially because of the kids.
 
I swear I’ll make this up to you.
 
Try not to be angry.
 
I’ll explain everything when I get in touch with you.