The Life She Wanted: A Novel(64)

“What do you mean, ‘privately’?” Pandora demanded.

“The bank can’t risk losing its most important clients.” Milton rubbed the rim of his glass. “Things are a bit precarious at the moment; the bank has overinvested. I can’t afford a scandal.”

“Harley can take a leave of absence,” Pandora urged. “We’ll take Esme to Palm Beach; Adele can come with us. In the summer, we’ll go abroad . . .”

“Pandora.” Milton stopped her. “It’s not that easy.”

Pandora sipped her brandy. Her eyes widened and she looked at Milton.

“What do you mean?”

“Homosexuality is an aberration. If I condone it in any way, everyone will turn against me,” Milton continued. “The only way to save the bank is to make it clear that Harley isn’t my son anymore.”

“Harley is your son,” she said fiercely. “Times have changed. Homosexuals have almost become accepted in New York. Virginia said that at the Cotton Club there are as many homosexuals in the audience as not.”

“Harlem isn’t the Yale Club, and it isn’t Wall Street.” Milton shook his head. “The bank’s customers are old fashioned.”

Something in Milton’s voice frightened Pandora.

“We’ll go to Europe,” she offered. “Perhaps all Harley needs is a few months at a Swiss spa.”

“If you appear to support him, it will ruin your reputation forever. Think what it will do to Esme. She won’t have friends or be accepted into the right schools because her father went to jail for being a homosexual.”

Pandora thought about her night with Archie. If anyone found out, it could ruin Esme forever. Harley had made a mistake, just like Pandora. She couldn’t abandon him. This was the first test of their marriage. Pandora would insist that Harley never see Porter again. She would encourage him to take time off.

“Esme doesn’t go to school for years; it will be forgotten long before that.”

“The best thing is for Harley to go away for a while,” Milton said as if she hadn’t spoken. “I have a cousin in Massachusetts with a house on a lake. Harley will go there. I’ve already spoken to Annie in San Francisco. Adele will visit her. I suggest you take Esme and Sally to Europe. Just for a few months. I’ll pay for it of course.”

“I can’t,” she argued. She would have gone to Europe with Harley, but not by herself. “The opening of my boutique is next week.”

Milton glanced at her kindly. He rubbed his brow, and his shoulders hunched over.

“Do you really think people will come to your opening while your husband’s name is splashed across every newsstand? I’ll continue to pay the rent; you can hold the opening when you return.”

Milton was right. Anyone who knew about the scandal would avoid her boutique. The full weight of Harley’s betrayal washed over her. All Pandora’s dreams, everything she had envisioned for their future, would be lost.

A disturbing thought came to her. If Pandora took Esme to Europe without Harley, wasn’t she behaving like her mother? Laura left when the doors to society closed to her, Pandora didn’t want to do the same. Yet she had to protect Esme. If she went to Europe, she and Esme would return to Harley, and they would be a family again.

Milton stood up and paced around the room.

“The RMS Olympic leaves for Southampton next week. You and Esme and Sally will be on it. Until then, stay inside and don’t talk to reporters.” He reached into his pocket. “Harley wrote you a letter; he wanted me to give it to you.”

Milton walked to the door; Pandora followed him.

“Whatever Harley says in the letter, don’t forget what he’s done.” Milton turned around. “It’s a sickness, Pandora. Harley can’t control his actions, and he’s never going to change.”

After Milton left, Pandora stuffed the letter into her purse. She had to get to Harley as soon as she could. No matter what Milton said, Harley was still her husband. She had to make sure he was all right.





The Yorkville Prison was in the basement of the courthouse on Fifty-Seventh Street at Lexington Avenue. Pandora was shocked to find it was on the same block as her boutique. She parked hurriedly and tried to make her way inside. But a crowd had gathered around the entrance. They carried signs pasted with the newspaper articles about Harley’s and Porter’s arrests.

Pandora scanned the words printed on the signs: “Protect our Children, Keep Homosexuals Locked Up and Throw Away the Key.”

The blood rushed to her cheeks, and she had to stop herself from ripping the signs from the protestors’ hands. Harley was a wonderful father. He would never hurt a child.

She managed to squeeze inside the courthouse and walked quickly to the desk.

“Can I help you?” a man asked. He wore a gray uniform and was poring over a black ledger.

“I need to see my husband, Harley Enright.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” He shook his head. “The jail cells are locked for the evening.”

“It’s urgent. I’ll only be a minute,” she pleaded.

“Those are the rules. You can come back on Monday.”

Pandora took a deep breath. She couldn’t leave without seeing Harley.

“Please,” she said desperately. She opened her purse and took out her wallet. “I have enough money to get him released.”