Fifth Ave 02.5 - From Manhattan With Love (9 page)

“You’ll notice that Lady Molesworth isn’t here tonight,” Frieda said with a self-satisfied smile.

“I didn’t notice,” Leana said.
 
“But I do hope she’s not making more telephone calls with that extra time on her hands.”

A waiter tapped Leana on the shoulder and asked her to join the Millers and Jean-Georges Laurent in the Pool Room.

“Looks like I’m up,” Leana said.
 
“It was nice seeing everyone.
 
I’ll send my mother your best wishes.
 
I know it’s just an oversight that she hasn’t heard from you.
 
She follows the papers and understands that many of you have been unusually busy.”

She turned to leave and when she did, only one person bothered to speak to her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Was any of that necessary?” Mario asked as they moved down the corridor toward the Pool Room.
 
“We only went to Europe.
 
We never went to Saint Petersburg or Beijing.”

“I did it for my mother.
 
It pisses me off that they think they’re better than she is when their own lives are in the toilet.
 
They’re hypocrites and they deserved it.”

“Fair enough,” he said.
 
“I guess.”

“Take the countess, for instance,” she said.
 
“She’s known me for most of my life, yet every time I speak to her, it’s as if we’ve met only once before and she can vaguely remember me.
 
That’s the difference between us.
 
Old money, new money.
 
They’d rather forget us, except when they have to use us.”
 

She waved to Addy as they spotted each other.
 
“He’s the exception.
 
If it weren’t for Addy, we wouldn’t be here tonight.”

When she walked over, the photographers immediately started taking her photograph.
 
Mario hung back and moved to the side to allow her the limelight he felt she deserved.
 
Those people who were looking at Tootie Staunton-Miller’s photo installation turned to see who was causing such a commotion.
 
When they did, it was as if the photographs of her grand home on Fifth Avenue no longer mattered.
 
Leana Redman hadn’t been seen in public since she was shot by Louis Ryan.
 
Right now, she was the biggest celebrity in the room.
 

“That dress,” Addy said as she came forward to hug him.
 
“I can literally feel the envy in the room.”

“Is that what it is?
 
I felt something else.
 
Like daggers in my back.”

“You’re terrible and I love you for it.”

“About the dress,” she said.
 
“Tell me, is everyone shielding their eyes because of it?
 
Are people falling into each other?
  
Tripping?
 
Walking into walls?
 
Spilling their drinks?
 
Have I finally succeeded in being too much for one room to handle?”

They held each other for a moment.
 
“I’d love to tell you, Leana, but I can’t see a thing.
 
I think with that dress and those cameras, you’re blinding everyone.
 
It’s like you’re a human disco ball.”

“So, my plan worked.”

They shared a laugh.

He took her by the hands and stepped back to admire her.
 
“Seriously, you look incredible.
 
Better than ever.
 
I know you’re going to get hammered with questions all evening, but I might be the only one who actually cares about the answers, so allow me to ask how you are.”

They kept smiling in spite of the weight of their conversation.
 
“It’s been a tough year, Addy.”

“Your mother?”

“I think she’s alright.
 
She’s a good actress, which I think we all can agree upon by now, so it’s hard to tell.
 
I think she’s managing.”

“Give her my love, will you?”

“When I speak to her, of course.”

“Just one more question and my worries will be lifted.
 
Are you alright physically?
 
The papers said the bullet came very close to your spinal chord.”

“Just three millimeters to the right and I’d be in a wheelchair, designed by Prada if I could get them to do it.”

He ignored the joke because he didn’t find it funny.
 
His only response was to shake his head.
 
When he did, the photographers noted the grim expression on his face and immediately captured it.

“They’re like leeches,” he said.
 

She turned around and waved to them.
 
“They always have been.
 
Just one last question, Addy.
 
Is my father here?”

“I haven’t seen him.”

“Did you have the sense whether he planned to come?”

He put his hand on her shoulder and stood next to her.
 
A ribbon of explosions shot through the crowd of photographers, bathing each in staccato rhythms of light.
 
“I can never read your father, Leana.
 
He’s one difficult man.
 
But I wouldn’t put it past him.”
 

Leana was about to speak when an announcement was made that people should move to the Pool Room.
 

Addy looked at his watch and then searched the room for Tootie, who never was late and was, in fact, now coming toward them.
 
“There’s Tootie,” he said.
 
“Just entering the room.
 
Jean-Georges will make his own entrance, because that’s what Jean-Georges does.
 
Why don’t you feed the press your presence while I grab a microphone?”

Leana took a final step forward and turned in various directions as people called out her name.
 
When she was finished, she held up her hand and smiled to the press as people continued to enter the room.
 
When she went back to Addy, Tootie was there.
 

“Hellohowareyou?” she said.
 

“Hello, Tootie.”

She looked with distaste at Leana’s dress.
 
“It’ll be interesting to see how that photographs.”

“Do you think there’ll be a problem?”

“You might look like fireworks in the morning, dear.
 
Just be prepared.
 
Anyway, I think it’s best if you and Jean-Georges stand there, with your backs to that window so you’re facing the press and the crowd.
 
Addy will speak, I’ll offer a few solemn words on the woes of suicide and then Jean-George will present you with the award.”
 

There was a rush of applause as Jean-George entered the room.

“Go over and give him a hug,” Tootie said.
 
“People love meaningless little hugs.
 
Smile, smile, smile.
 
That’s right.
 
Good.”

“You look beautiful, Leana,” Jean-Georges said in her ear.

“That’s good to hear.
 
I was just warned by Tootie that in the papers tomorrow, I’ll look like fireworks.”

“Who better than you?”

She was surprised by his charm.
 
He was a tallish man in his late fifties with a thick head of silver hair that complemented his tan complexion.
 
“You were kind to step in for my father.”

“A friend of mine committed suicide when I was young.
 
I’m happy to do it and I’m planning to offer a donation of my own tonight.”

They parted and Leana looked over at Mario, who was watching her.
 
Even from here, she could sense him wanting to protect her.
 
She waved at him from her waist.
 
He blew her a kiss.

CHAPTER TWELVE

With Jean-Georges Laurent in full view, Carmen and Alex felt more at ease to move into a better position.
 

Only moments ago, Carmen made a call to her most reliable and efficient contact in Manhattan.
 
What she requested of him would cost plenty, particularly given the speed with which he’d have to work to pull this off, but she and Alex agreed it was the only way to go if they were to create the kind of chaos they needed to create in an effort to stay alive.
 

The complications were clear.

Without the help of Carmen’s contact, the moment Alex pulled a gun on Jean-Georges, someone undoubtedly would see it and the place would be turned on its side.
 
But with the help of the distraction her contact was offering, which would take the focus off him and place it elsewhere, that was a game changer.
 

While fear reigned, Alex would be able to take out Jean-Georges and Leana Redman as the shock of what had happened fully registered.
 
Then, he and Carmen would escape through the corridor, running from the madness as if they themselves were threatened by it.

Carmen looked at the time on her watch while Addison Miller started to speak.
 
The award would be given out in minutes.
 
Her contact promised he could pull it off regardless of the short notice, just as she knew he could because he generally had these sorts of emergency situations covered.
 
He said he’d call her moments before he arrived.
 
They wouldn’t talk.
 
Her cell phone was set to vibrate.
 
He’d allow for one vibration before coming through with what he promised.

She watched Tootie Staunton-Miller take the microphone from her husband.
 
She allowed him to kiss her on the cheek before she stepped in front of him.
 

“Who among us hasn’t been touched by suicide?” she asked the crowd.
 
“Maybe a relative took his or her life, a friend, an acquaintance.
 
In the wake of this Wall Street disaster, which has robbed so many of our own in ways that are unconscionable, I can’t imagine that somebody here doesn’t know someone who has turned to a darker way out because of it.”

She looked at Leana.
 
“When Harold Baines took his life, Leana Redman felt the full weight of his grisly death and decided to do something proactive about it.
 
She has gifted our organization fifty million dollars, which will go for support and education at our satellite organizations throughout the country.
 
It’s an incredibly kind, meaningful gesture and I hope all of you will join Addy and me in recognizing the importance of stepping forward and doing the right thing when you have the means to do so.
 
Leana Redman is one of those people and I want to say publicly to her, thank you.
 
Thank you, Leana, for your gift of love, because I know that’s what it was for you.
 
I can promise you that your gift will help others.
 
What you’ve done will touch people you’ll never know, people you’ll never meet, but it will touch them.
 
It will change their lives for the better.
 
They will go forward because of you and for that, we all applaud you.”