The Life She Wanted: A Novel(28)

Harley shuffled his feet from side to side.

“My father is the opposite; he’s only interested in the bank and his private clubs. But when they’re together, they’re happy. They often eat in the dining room just the two of them, and they can talk for hours. A few times this summer, I’ve seen them out here dancing.” He waved at the terrace. “They’re good friends, and they love each other; you can tell by looking at them.”

“They did seem fond of each other at dinner,” Pandora affirmed. “Your mother is very beautiful.”

Harley studied Pandora. He touched her wrist.

“So are you, Pandora.”

Harley’s eyes shone in the moonlight. Pandora told herself it didn’t mean anything. She had allowed herself to be swept away by Owen’s small attentions, and she’d ended up with a broken heart. Harley was merely tipsy from the champagne.

“I’ll get in trouble for keeping you to myself,” he joked, as if he needed to break the mood. He held out his arm. “Shall we go inside and dance?”

She linked her arm through his.

“I’d like that.” She nodded.

“I’m glad you came, Pandora Carmichael,” he said with a smile. “I’m having a much better time than I imagined.”





Chapter Seven


July 1926, Hyde Park, New York

The Monday after the Enrights’ house party, Pandora spent the morning in the Van Luyens’ kitchen, chopping celery and cabbage for Esther’s Jell-O Perfection Salad. It felt strange to be bending over the sink when two nights before she had been sipping champagne with Harley on Blythdale’s terrace. She wondered what he would think if he could see her scrubbing vegetables. Would she still be the kind of woman he would ask to rehearse his play? She knew she was only invited because of the Van Luyens. But what if Harley was different? Perhaps he’d still notice her when she wasn’t wearing an evening gown and Virginia’s borrowed jewelry.

Virginia was in New York with her mother, and Archie and Willie were playing tennis. Pandora had planned on spending the day sewing a new dress, but she couldn’t concentrate. The fabric kept slipping from the sewing machine, and twice she’d pricked her finger with a pin. She told herself she was tired from staying up late and dancing. But it was something else.

She had enjoyed Harley’s company and wondered if she’d see him again.

The back door opened, and Archie entered. He had a towel draped over his shoulder, and his forehead was damp with sweat. His cheeks were tan from the house party, and Pandora could see the muscles under his shirt. He looked very handsome.

“Pandora, the star of the weekend,” Archie said, wiping his brow.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Pandora looked up from the sink.

“Every young man at the Enrights’ house party was taken with you, some that are not so young,” Archie replied. He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. “I heard Milton Enright comment to Adele that Harley finally found a worthy girl. Milton Enright doesn’t have a nice thing to say about anyone unless that person is about to deposit money into Enright’s Bank.”

“Milton Enright is lovely. He suggested I bring my father over for a tennis match sometime. And there’s nothing going on between me and Harley. We just met.”

“I’ve known Harley for three years at Princeton, and he’s never paid attention to a girl. He’s too busy with theater productions on the weekends.” Archie polished the apple on his vest. “The Enrights are good people. Adele Enright isn’t like the other women in her circle; she’s trying to change things.”

“Since when do you want the world to change?” Pandora arched her eyebrows. “You’re going straight from graduation into your father’s real estate company. By the time you’re forty, you’ll have a summer estate and your own set of billiard cues at the Union Club.”

“I’m looking forward to working in the real estate firm as much as a goldfish about to join a household with an inquisitive cat.” Archie sighed.

“I thought you wanted to work with your father,” Pandora said, surprised.

“I loved my childhood, and I’m grateful to my parents for everything they’ve done, but that doesn’t mean I want the same future,” Archie admitted.

Pandora always assumed the children of wealthy parents—Archie, Virginia, Owen, and their friends—were doing exactly what they wanted. It was only people without money like Pandora who had to struggle to achieve their dreams.

“What do you want to do?” she asked curiously.

“I’d like to be a history and politics professor,” Archie confided. “I’ve never felt so inspired as at Princeton. It’s as if the answers to my most burning questions are in the bricks of Nassau Hall.”

Archie looked so serious, Pandora had to stifle a giggle.

“I thought the only places in Princeton you were interested in were the games room and the dining hall at your eating club,” she said, smiling.

Archie frowned at Pandora. He took another bite of the apple.

“You’re not the only one who wants something different out of life,” he retorted, his voice gruff. “I’m going to be chained to my father’s company for the next fifty years. Real estate is fine if you’re only interested in buildings. I want to know how we got where we are and use that knowledge to make the world better.”