Fifth Ave 02.5 - From Manhattan With Love (8 page)

“Want a tip?”

She nodded.

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.”

They started to walk toward them.
 
When Mario saw Frieda Zulrika Teeple, he squeezed Leana’s hand.

“Isn’t that the woman--”

“That’s her.”

“The one who had the orgy?”

“That’s right.
 
That’s her.”

“That was just a month or so ago.”

“Isn’t it great?
 
She’s either brave or deluded to be seen so soon.
 
We’ll find out.
 
Oh, and keep in mind that Count Luftwick is a little off.”

“Jesus.”

“Countess Castellani,” Leana said as they joined the group.
 
“Count Luftwick.
 
It’s good to see you.”

Every head turned in their direction.

“Leana,” the countess said while appraising her.
 
“You look beautiful.
   
Very thirties.
 
Very now.
 
Uber fresh.
 
I bet Frieda wouldn’t mind having those diamonds--or your legs.
 
How is your mother?”

“Still scrubbing toilets in prison.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know.”

“It must be awful for her, all that urine and whatnot.”

“She’s getting by.”

“All felons must do their time,” Kitty said.

“That’s true, Kitty,” Leana said.
 
“I remember when your father did his time for allegedly raping that young woman in a Kentucky funeral parlor while in the next room, they were preparing her father’s body for the viewing.
 
The security camera footage obviously was faked, regardless of what people say and how real it looked.
 
I think he got a raw deal.”
 
She paused to admire the piece of jewelry at the woman’s throat.
 
“That’s a lovely brooch.
 
I love how the green matches your eyes.”

The woman seemed surprised by the compliment and undone by the mention of her father, whose actions had disgraced the family for years.
 
She put her fingertips to the giant emerald and was about to say something when Count Luftwick said, “Leana, I can’t see you, but I’m certain you’re one of the room’s stars.”

“She certainly is glittering,” Lorvenia said.

Leana looked at Lorvenia Billiups with a smile.
 
“Lorvenia, I don’t think I’ve seen you since they were running your trial in re-runs on Court TV.”

“You watch Court TV?”

“When I can’t sleep, it calms me to see old friends.”

“They’ve put me in re-runs?”

“I’m afraid you’re everywhere right now.
 
I try not to miss that channel because you never know who will turn up.
 
For instance, just recently it was
you
.
 
Can I just tell you that I don’t believe for a minute that you knew about all those illegals working at your department stores?”

“Thank you.
 
I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” Count Luftwick said under his breath.
 
“Mexicans have a knack for blending in.”

They all heard it and a few eyes widened at the racist overtones.
 
There was a pause in the conversation while Lorvenia lifted her chin.

“I’m sure you didn’t know,” Leana said.
 
“But I’m glad it turned out as well as it did for you.
 
I wish my mother had received only an ankle bracelet and--”
 
She paused.
 
“How long did you serve?”

“Six months.
 
In my Bar Harbor mansion along the Maine coast.
 
Stunning views.
 
Friends flew in for dinner.
 
My children visited.
 
The Fords and the Rockefellers came by to offer support.
 
Oddly, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.
 
I was able to garden, entertain and spend time with myself, which I never do because I’m always so busy.
 
It was something like a vacation.
 
Maybe even out of a
dream
.”

“Sounds like a nightmare to me,” Count Luftwick said.

“Not at all,” Lorvenia said.
 
“But then you’ve never actually seen the house.
 
It’s divoon.
 
The views!
 
Oh, how I wish you could see them!”

“I can’t see shit, Lorvenia.
 
You know that.
 
So, get your finger out of my ass, will you?
 
Stop tickling my eyeballs.
 
Jesus.”

“Anyway,” the countess interjected.
 
“We’re glad it went as well as it could for you, Lorvenia.”

“I would have liked that for my mother,” Leana said.

“But your mother committed
murder
,” Frieda said.
 
“It’s not quite the same thing, Leana.”

“It isn’t,” Leana said.
 
“That true.”
 
She scrutinized the woman’s face.
 
“You’re always so sharp, Frieda.
 
So quick.
 
I admire you for that.
 
And I’m sorry I haven’t written you since your recent public crisis.
 
I’ve meant to, but we only just got back from our trip around the world.
 
It’s awful that you’re facing such lies and humiliation because of something the press made up.
 
Friends were talking about it in Paris.
 
Others in Saint Petersburg and Beijing.
 
A South African orgy?
 
With three men in one of your mines?
 
How does that even happen?”

“It didn’t happen.”

“But they won’t stop saying it happened.”

“I believe it happened,” the count said.
 
“In this town, gossip might as well come from the Lord’s lips.
 
I look for the worst in everyone.
 
Even you, Frieda.
 
Sometimes, especially you.
 
Sorry.”

“He’s just joking,” the countess said, and Leana noticed that the woman was digging her nails into the count’s arm.

“They were talking about me in Beijing?” Frieda said.

“They were.
 
But the good news is that your lawyers, I presume, were quick enough to remove the footage from YouTube,” Leana said.
 
“That’s when I learned about it, when news about the video was trending on Twitter.”

“I was trending on Twitter?”

“At one point, you held the top spot.
 
I viewed the video and even though the rough parts were smudged out, I swear it wasn’t you.
 
I think the only one who believes it is Lady Molesworth, who I hear can’t shut up about it.
 
But you know how she is.
 
When even the hint of a scandal hits, she’s not happy until she gets on the phone and calls everyone who matters.
 
She phoned my mother in prison the day the news hit.
 
They still keep in touch.
 
I think she’s the reason so many people found out.”