“But it is, Belle. You tell your father you’re not marrying Teddy and you walk away. We’ll leave New York. Hell, we’ll leave the country if you want. But you have to put it in motion. And you won’t. Because when you weigh what you’d be giving up against what you’d be getting, the scales don’t balance. I come up short.”
“Do you honestly think that’s what’s holding me back? Money?”
“Not just money, no. But you’re used to a way of life I can never give you, and the longer we go on, the more you’re starting to realize it.”
I blink at you in the mirror, bristling, though I have no right to be angry. “Realize what?”
“That the adventure has run its course. It was exciting in the beginning, the newness of it, the risk of being caught, but the excitement is starting to wear off, and all you’re left with is a dingy apartment and a man with limited prospects.”
And just like that, my anger is suddenly justified. “You think this has been some kind of experiment? A game?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you did,” I fire back. “You said exactly that.”
I turn away and resume dressing. Moments later, I hear you step into your trousers and leave the room. Tears sting my eyes. I bat them away, too wounded to let you see them. That you could accuse me of such a thing reminds me again how little you know me—and how little I know you.
I never told you how I came to be standing in the ballroom of the St. Regis Hotel the night we met, but I’ll tell you now, so you’ll understand. Had I been paying better attention, I might have seen what was coming, though what I could have done to prevent it, I still don’t know.
It began as so many things in our world did back before my father’s fall from grace, with a dinner and a great deal of planning. One night, seemingly out of the blue, I came downstairs to find Teddy and his parents among my father’s dinner guests. Teddy lifted his glass as I entered the room, flashing an almost apologetic smile. We grew up in the same circles, largely at a distance, but we’d attended a few dances together and went to the movies once or twice when he was home from school. There were a few kisses of the chaste, good-night variety, but it never went beyond that. He was handsome but too brash for my taste, and not especially bright, as you yourself have pointed out. Nor had he ever expressed any serious interest in me. It was our fathers who were close. Partners in several large business ventures and members of all the same clubs.
My father spotted me as I came down the stairs and waved me over, all smiles as he introduced me to Teddy’s mother, who, until that night, had never been invited to our home, as his darling girl. I nodded politely and shook her hand, a hollow sensation in the pit of my stomach, because I suddenly understood what was happening. But I had no intention of marrying Teddy. The moment dinner ended, I pleaded a headache and, to my sister’s horror, excused myself for the remainder of the night.
The next morning, I paid for my folly. I was sternly scolded at breakfast for being rude to my guests. My father was not amused when I pointed out that Teddy and his parents were not my guests but his. I also informed him that I had no intention of marrying anyone. I was going to school to study art or education. I folded my napkin, then laid it aside and stood. My father stood, too, and slapped me so hard, I dropped back into my chair.
He’d never struck me before and he took an abrupt step back, as if he’d surprised himself. “You should be careful,” he warned, his voice steely soft. “You’ve always had too much of your mother in you. Too silly and sentimental for your own good. I suggest that in the future, you try to be more malleable. It’s spared your sister no end of heartache.”
“Is it silly to want to love the man I marry?”
“What you want is of no consequence to me. You have a duty to this family, and you’ll do it if you know what’s good for you. End of discussion.”
Only it wasn’t the end. Suddenly I blurted the question I’d always wanted to ask. “Is that the only reason you married Mother? Out of duty?”
I knew I was on dangerous ground, but I couldn’t help myself. For a moment, his eyes softened and slipped from mine, refocusing on the far end of the table, where my mother used to sit. But the softness vanished as abruptly as it had come, replaced by something ominous and rigid.
“You are never to speak of your mother to me again, do you understand? Not ever.” He brushed the toast crumbs from his vest front and cleared his throat. “As for the other business, it’s been decided. Your future in-laws are planning a dinner for the two of you next week. There will be no headaches, no scenes, no theatrics of any kind. You will be attentive and charming and keep his featherbrained mother entertained while her husband and I see to a bit of business. I don’t want to have to persuade you, but I will if you push me. Are we clear?”
I stared at him, stunned. That’s what my life was to him, my future. Business. There were a hundred things I longed to throw back at him. Instead, I nodded and looked away.
“I’m head of this house,” he continued, his tone milder, almost magnanimous: a man who knew he’d won. “We each have a role to play in this family. Yours is to marry the man I choose for you, and I’ve chosen Teddy. He’s made of the right stuff. Your children will be made of the right stuff.”
I was about to protest when Cee-Cee caught my eye, sending a silent warning. I bit my lip and said nothing, fuming as my father turned and walked out of the room.
When we were alone, Cee-Cee reached for the coffeepot, refilled her cup, and dropped in two cubes of sugar. “There now,” she said, stirring absently. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
I smothered a groan, her superior tone almost more than I could bear. “Do you never get tired of taking his side?”
“It’s the only side to take in this house. I’d have thought you’d understand that by now.”
“I won’t end up like you, a marionette who jumps every time Father pulls your strings.”
Cee-Cee sipped her coffee with infuriating nonchalance, then carefully set the cup back in its saucer. “I fear you’re in for a rude awakening, sister dear. You’ll end up exactly like me. You heard him. What you want doesn’t matter. All that matters is what you can do for him. You think you understand what’s happening here, that it’s about money and real estate—Father’s empire—but it’s bigger than that. And you need to watch your step.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?”
She shrugged off the question as she casually slathered a piece of toast with marmalade. “He was right, you know. You are just like her. And you’ll end up just like her if you’re not careful. Why keep bringing her up when you know he doesn’t want to hear it?”
“It’s as if he’s trying to pretend she never existed. To erase her. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“What do you expect him to do? Keep resurrecting her? Pretend she didn’t bring shame on this family with her histrionics?”
“She was sick!”
Cee-Cee rolled her eyes as she tossed the remnants of her toast onto her plate. “How can you be so naive? There’s a way things work in the real world. A harsh way, perhaps, but once you accept it, things get . . . easier. That’s what Father meant when he used the word malleable. Accepting the way things work.”