The Fifth Avenue Series Boxed Set (150 page)

“He’s George Redman.”

“Oh, right.
 
Sorry.
 
Forgot.”
 
She moved under one of the two shower heads and rinsed her hair.
 
Her issues with her father and how coldly he treated her when she was growing up still cut deep.
 
“What did he want?
 
I haven’t heard from him in a year.”

“He knows about the hotel.”

She shrugged.
 
“I figured he’d hear about it at some point, especially with his building directly across the street from it.
 
What did he say?”

“You’re not going to like this.”

“It’s my father.
 
You know, the one who has won Father of the Year twenty-seven years in a row because of his excellent parenting skills.
 
Anything that has to do with him I’m not going to like.”
 
She stopped for a moment.
 
“So long as it doesn’t have to do with my mother.
 
We may not be on the best terms, but I don’t want anything happening to her.”

“It has nothing to do with your mother, but he did mention that she hasn’t heard from you.”

“We’ve been busy,” she said.
 
“What am I supposed to say to her?
 
‘Hi, Mom.
 
I hope everything is going well in prison.
 
Hang in there.
 
We’re all hoping for good behavior.’
 
It’s too much.”

“You should call her.”

“I actually plan on driving out to see her.”

“Right,” Mario said.
 
“Anyway, your father is going to be there tonight.
 
He’s been asked to give you the award.”
 
He held up his hand before she could launch into a rant.
 
“The Millers know nothing about your beef with your father.
 
They probably thought they were doing a kind gesture, especially Addy.
 
He likes you.
 
He always has.”

“I have that effect on gay men.”

“Addison Miller is gay?”

“Of course, he is.”

“How do you know?”

“You hear things.
 
You see things.
 
You sense things.
 
But it doesn’t matter.
 
Addy is Addy and I love him.
 
I just feel bad that he feels he can’t be who he is.
 
He’s a nice man who deserves something better than living out the rest of his years with that hag Tootie.”

“I don’t know her.”

“You don’t want to.
 
And you’re probably right about him suggesting that my father give me the award.
 
Addy doesn’t know what our relationship is.”
 
She twisted the water from her hair and reached for a towel.
 
“But he’s about to find out.”
 

She walked past Mario and stepped out of the shower.
 

“What are you going to do?” he said.

“I’m going to talk to Addy.
 
If anyone will understand, he will.
 
He can choose any number of people to give me that award, but it’s not going to be my father.
 
I won’t take anything from him.
 
Besides, he probably called here because he knew I’d react this way.
 
He probably wanted me to let him off the hook.”
 
She went into their bedroom and reached for the phone on one of the side tables.
 
“In this case, I’m more than happy to help him out.”

 

 

*
 
*
 
*

 

 

When they were dressing, Leana stood in front of the mirror in her dressing room and appraised herself.
 
She was going for a kind of retro thirties look and, as she turned and twinkled in the light, she decided she kind of dug it, even though some would probably say that the dress was too short and too gaudy for such an event.

Not that that would be a surprise.
 
Throughout her life, there always were those who found some reason to tear her down.
 
She didn’t care.
 
She liked the look.

She was adjusting the two diamond necklaces that plunged between her breasts when Mario stepped inside.

“You look handsome,” she said.

“And you look amazing.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m being a pain in the ass about my father.”

“If there’s anyone in your life who also understands a strained relationship between a father and his kid, it’s me.”

“We’re quite a pair,” she said.

“Actually, we are.”

“And by the way,” she said.
 
“When are you planning to call your father?”

His eyes brightened.
 
“I plan on driving out to see him soon.”

She laughed.
 
“You’re so full of shit.”

“What did Addy have to say?”

“Just that he didn’t know about my relationship with Dad, but that he understood.
 
He asked if I knew Jean-Georges Laurent, the businessman.
 
I do, but between us, he gives me the creeps.
 
Harold, who rarely had a bad word to say about anyone, hated him for some reason.
 
Now, I can only imagine why.
 
Laurent is as cut throat as it gets and he might have had something on Harold.”
 

She shrugged.
 
“But I know how these events work.
 
He’s important, people know him and that’s what matters, especially when it comes to that crowd and to the press.
 
I said I’d be pleased if Jean-Georges gave me the award and Addy said he’d call my father to give him the news.”

Mario fixed his tie.
 
“Think he’ll show anyway?”

“No idea.
 
But he doesn’t want to come near me if he does.”
 
She caught the concerned look on his face and said, “Don’t worry.
 
If he does, I’ll just politely walk away.”

“You know, people haven’t seen you in a long time.
 
They haven’t talked to you since that night.
 
They’re bound to ask you questions.
 
Are you ready for that?”

“I know what they’ll do.
 
I also know what I’ll say.”

“What’s that?”

“That I appreciate their concern but I’m not ready to discuss it.
 
That should end it.”

“Not if a member of the press asks you the question.”

She hadn’t thought of that.

“Want a tip?”

She nodded.

“A simple ‘no comment,’ repeated firmly if necessary, always works.”
 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

When they arrived at the party, they were fifteen minutes late, which was perfect.
 
Dozens already had arrived.
 
Now, if she worked it correctly, Leana could ease inside with as little fuss as possible, which is how she wanted it.
 

She’d been off the circuit for a year and even though she told herself she didn’t care how she’d be received by people, a part of her cared.
 
She knew she’d do fine with the new money, because she understood them as well as they understood her.
 
But the old guard was the old guard.
 
Although some had worked with her father and Celina on deals in the past, the Redmans never had been fully accepted into the highest levels of society.
 

And they never would be.

People like Addison Miller, who led one of the world’s largest banks and whose lineage was linked directly to one of the country’s founding fathers, welcomed them, but that was likely because on some level, probably due to his hidden sexuality, he was more open to accepting others, even though he ironically couldn’t accept himself.
 

As for his wife, Tootie Staunton-Miller, she was an unbearable ice bitch who remained in her own circle as much as possible.
 

Events such as this brought everyone together, sure, but Tootie only held them if she was certain they advanced her.
 
Trotting out Leana and giving her an award for backing suicide prevention allowed her to be viewed in a position of power.
 
It was she, after all, who backed the charity that was giving the award.
 
Leana was just there to accept it.
 
There was a clear difference in the power structure.
 
Tootie
chaired
charitable events.
 
Leana just signed a check and handed it to them.

As for the massive photographs that showed off her newly renovated mansion on Fifth, that also was pure positioning.
 
While the photographs presumably were meant to emulate something of an art installation, a way for people to see how seriously the Martins tended to every detail in their home, the not-so-subtle undercurrent was the bragging rights that came with owning such a home.
 
Who here wouldn’t want to live where they lived?
 
Who wouldn’t want to call that home their home?

But beyond that, Tootie and Addy had saved one of the avenue’s key residences.
 
Now, they were considered architectural heroes.
 
They had spent tens of millions of their old money to preserve an increasingly shabby-looking corner of Fifth and bring it back to its former glory.
 
For those who lived near Tootie and Addy—and there were plenty here who did—their work would only benefit them in what remained a difficult real estate market.
 

Countess Castellani and her blind husband, Count Luftwick, were the first couple Leana and Mario came upon.
 

Leana had known them since childhood and in spite of the fact that the countess could become a bit of a mess when she decided to skip the vermouth in the many martinis she tended to favor, she didn’t mind them, especially because of their commitment to HIV research, which was unwavering.
 

Like Leana and Mario, they also had just arrived and were standing with three vipers Leana didn’t care for at all—Kitty Flem Dixie, the tobacco heiress; Lorvenia Billiups, the department store heiress; and Frieda Zulrika Teeple, the diamond heiress whose affair last month with three black workers from one of her South African diamond mines had caused a worldwide scandal.
 
Apparently the affair, or orgy as it were, took place in one of the mines while Frieda Zulrika Teeple’s workers cheered them on.

Leana was surprised to see her here.

She looked up at Mario with a gleam in her eyes.
 
“Let’s go over and say hello.”

“You’re joking.”

She grabbed his hand.
 
“When my mother was sent to prison, every one of them, with the exception of the count and countess, threw her under the bus.
 
They were quoted in interviews.
 
They tore her down.
 
They were happy to vilify her.
 
Much of what they said wasn’t even true.”
 
She looked at them all.
 
“I always knew that karma would run them over.
 
I just didn’t know that I’d be driving one of the vehicles.”

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