When We Were Bright and Beautiful(56)

“Our son. If anyone is jeopardizing Billy’s future, it’s you. You’re jeopardizing all our futures. Why would you let Cassie and Nate testify? They’re not DeFiore’s clients. Billy is. DeFiore has no reason to protect the rest of us.”

“We don’t need his protection! None of us is hiding anything—except you, maybe.”

“What am I hiding? We’ve been married for thirty fucking years.”

“Let’s start with your money issues, your job issues, your crazy foundation—”

“What money issues?” Lawrence’s eyes widen. He looks genuinely bewildered.

“It seems to me that a man who is unable to provide for his family, a man who is dependent on his wife to feed himself and his children might have a few money issues.” She adjusts her glasses. “Just a thought.”

The color drains from Lawrence’s face. His breathing grows ragged. For one shocking second, he is wholly unfamiliar, a man who’ll rear back and roar. Instead, he glances behind him, at me and my brothers. Then his anger flickers and goes out, like a blown light bulb.

Cracking his window, Lawrence lets in a gust of hot air. For a partnership to endure, he once told me, one person has to be the peacemaker. Someone has to take it on the chin. “Eleanor,” he says softly. “I don’t want to argue. We’re all we have. We’ll work this out.”

“Of course we will.” She stares at the passing scenery. “Of that I have no doubt.”

In the backseat, Nate reaches across Billy to nudge me. We need to fix this.





33


HOURS LATER, NATE PUSHES ME TO GO FOR A DRINK. “LET’S get out of this house. Put on your shoes, Cassie.”

“You barely speak to me. Why should I go anywhere with you?”

Snatching a Columbia ballcap off a hook, he pauses. “Please.”

Feeling pathetic but grateful for his attention, I follow him out the door like a dutiful dog.

When we step into the muggy night, he asks a valet to hail a cab. I look around for Anton or Joey, but neither is working. “Isn’t it weird that Anton hired Joey?” I ask Nate, wondering what they told Haggerty about me. “Have you spoken to him?”

“To Joey? About what? We have nothing in common. For one thing, he’s gainfully employed.” Nate’s voice is clipped. “And no, it’s not weird at all. These jobs get passed down all the time. You’ve lived in this building your whole life, Cassie. How do you not know that?”

“Nate, what’s your problem? Are you mad because I’ve been away? I come home every time you call. Is it because I blew off the foundation? I’m sorry I left you in the lurch, but it’s been over a year, and you have to let it go.”

A cab pulls up, and we slide into the back. Nate directs the driver to Mercer Street, and then says, “Cassie, this may come as a shock, but not everything is about you. I don’t give a shit that you went to grad school. Your life is your life. Be free and prosper. Nor do I care about the foundation. I’m aware this project is more pie-in-the-sky bullshit from my father. At the moment, Billy is my primary concern. Mom and Dad are headed for mutually assured destruction. We need to figure something out.”

The city is quiet. The cabdriver navigates the empty streets, and we make it down to Tribeca in record time. “Thanks, man.” Nate hands him a fifty. “Keep it.”

He leads me inside a sports bar, where we’re hit with a blast of cool air and loud music. The interior is upscale and clubby, with polished wood floors and leather stools. Large-screen TVs hang on the walls, each showing a different sport—baseball, soccer, golf.

“Hey, Tess.” Nate introduces me to the bartender. She’s a slender brunette with short, spiky hair and muscular arms. “Two Absolut and tonics. Double limes for my sister, please.”

“You remembered the limes.” This makes me so irrationally happy I almost tear up.

“It’s a lime, Cassie, not a kidney. Why are you always such a drama queen?”

“I don’t know, Nate.” I shake my head. “Why can’t you just let me have it?”

Our drinks arrive. We clink glasses then sit. It’s not uncomfortable.

“Dad says you start classes next week. Excited?”

“Yeah. Looks like it’s really happening.”

“I’m glad, Cass. It was a smart idea. I mean, what else were you gonna do? Live with Mom and Dad forever?” He glances at me sideways. “Or maybe you had a different plan?”

“Like what? Killing Eleanor in her sleep and stealing her fortune? I don’t have that kind of strength. Nor do I need her money, thank God.”

Nate holds up his glass. “Well, here’s to your great escape. May it last longer than mine.” He finishes his drink in one swallow. “Another Absolut and tonic, Tessie. Actually”—he checks my glass—“two more, please.”

The drinks arrive and we clink again. Then Nate says, “DeFiore is giving up.”

“Maybe not. Maybe he’s trying to do what’s best for Billy.”

“Shoving a plea down his throat is not what’s best. You have to convince DeFiore to stay the course. Promise me you’ll talk to him.”

“And say what?”