Free Food for Millionaires (53 page)
“That’s great. Okay. . .” She smiled and turned to Keiko. “Congratulations. It’s lovely to meet you.” She looked like a kind person, and though this was hard to take, she felt happy for Jay. She wanted to believe that he’d be happy in the end.
“I heard wonderful things about you,” Keiko said. She stood confidently with her shoulders back. “Why don’t you guys catch up? I need to run to the lav—” She smiled and gave Jay and Casey a small wave. She walked away briskly, thinking it would be better if they talked now rather than later.
Jay swallowed. It was like Keiko not to be jealous or appear so. She was impressive to him in this regard. She was almost impossible to rattle, whereas Casey was far more fragile than she seemed. He felt happy suddenly at being with Casey alone in the midst of the crowd. It felt right that they got a chance to talk even for a little while.
“How are you?” Casey was the first to ask. She wanted to ask him a dozen things and hoped he would hold nothing back. Jay had always been more emotional than she was—one of the things she liked best about him. She wanted to ask:
Are you happy with her? Are you happy with your life? Do you miss me? Do you love me still? Did our love matter?
She didn’t want him back—it wasn’t that at all. But he was still attractive to her. It had been three years since they’d broken up. “You haven’t changed. Not even a little.”
“Neither have you.” She was still sexy as hell to him. They had always had that between them.
Casey took a deep breath into her lungs, and she could smell him—the vetiver of his aftershave. A flood of pictures came into her head. But there had never been an image of them being married, of living together forever. Wasn’t that why she’d ultimately said no? And she loved Unu, too, who was likely at Foxwoods right now. Last week, he’d turned down an analyst position at a small asset management company because it would have been a step down, he’d said. She looked carefully at Jay’s face, as though she wanted to engrave it, his speckled blue eyes, the high bridge of his nose. He had been her best friend in the world. He had taught her to be more affectionate and open—to smile at strangers. There had been bad moments, but she had loved him more than Virginia or Ella and felt closer to him than to her own sister. No one had been as intimate with her as Jay, and it occurred to her that it had been much easier when they had not seen each other. And as she was thinking these things, Jay was remembering what had crystallized the moment he had decided to ask her to marry him—that they were the kids who’d enlarged their lives beyond their circumstances through education, and for sure, no one would understand the other better. No matter where they were—at a McDonald’s or on his friend’s yacht sailing Nantucket Sound—everything had been interesting to them, because they were learning about the bigness of the world at the same time. Why weren’t they together anymore? Oh yes, he recalled painfully. She had not been able to see their future in some cockamamy vision in her mind. But he had. He had seen them growing older together, fucking their brains out till the very end. But she had not wanted him, and he had refused to be her friend. So there had been this three-year break. And here she was.
“My father died this year,” he said. Why had he told her this?
“Oh God. I’m sorry. I’m very sorry to hear that.” Casey wanted to hold him, and she touched his forearm.
“He was gay. He was living with his second cousin. They were lovers.”
“That’s why—”
“Mystery solved.”
“Oh, I wish I’d known about his death.”
He ignored this.
“That’s why he checked out and never—” Jay’s voice broke. “Case closed.”
Casey held his forearm for a moment longer than she should have. She squeezed it, then let go.
“Anyway. . .” He sighed. “Crazy, huh?”
“Your mother—gosh, how is she?” Casey smiled at the thought of Mary Ellen.
Jay sniffled and wiped his nose. He looked away for a moment, then smiled at her as if everything were okay.
“She sold her book on ED. It’s out. She wanted to let you know, but I told her not to contact you, because—”
Casey nodded. “I’ll pick it up.”
“Because I couldn’t handle it, her asking about you. It was really hard when we—”
“It was hard for me, too, Jay. This is hard now.”
Jay crossed his arms. It wasn’t the same, he wanted to say, to be dumped like that. It was better to be the one who got to go. He got quiet.
“Keiko seems great.”
“Yeah. She’s great.”
“And she’s beautiful.”
“On the inside, too.”
Casey nodded. “You’re lucky, then. Everything worked out for the better.”
Jay nodded, unable to speak.
She could see the hurt in his face. “Can I say something that is very selfish?”
“Yes, please.”
“I missed you, Jay Currie. You were always a good friend to me. And I’m jealous. But I think you will be much happier with her.”
“It was selfish of you to say that. And grandiose.” He laughed and looked up at the bright sky.
“I’m going to go now. I promised. . .” Casey rubbed her arms as if she were cold.
“Ivy?” he asked.
“Yup. Terrace?” she asked.
“Yup.”
Jay opened his arms, and Casey hugged him.
“You want to come to the wedding?” he asked.
“No. But thank you. You always had a better nature than me. That hasn’t changed.”
Casey returned to Virginia, who had noticed them talking. She broke away from the guy, Hank Loehman, she’d been chatting with. He was not that interesting after all. She hugged Casey tight and kissed her on the cheek, and Casey smiled at her. Virginia could do things like that. No one else ever did. She loved you without holding back. Later, Casey would tell her everything, but for now they walked off Poe Field together, arms linked like schoolgirls, heading toward Prospect Avenue.
P
ERHAPS IT WAS PREMATURE TO SAY,
but Casey believed that she hated Karyn Glissam and Larry Chirtle, the senior associates who barraged her with assignments. In the past three weeks, on top of the demands of other senior associates, Karyn and Larry had asked Casey to locate the number of tractors in the southern region of China, make up a spreadsheet comparing that number against the number of tractors in Brazil in 1996, and calculate the GDP relationship among Peru, Ecuador, and Honduras relating to canned fruit exports. She had compiled data on soft drink production in India as well as oil wells in Alaska. She had become their go-to girl, because she got the job done, but unlike the brokers at the Asia sales desk, Karyn and Larry, the investment bankers, never said thank you or please. They never asked how she was doing. She told herself to focus on nailing the offer and that niceties shouldn’t matter, but they did. They mattered more to Casey than they should have. Maybe what she felt wasn’t hatred really, but contempt.
All twenty-one of the interns were housed in a corridorlike office tracked with parallel rows of rolltop desks, and Casey occupied the third desk in from the windowed wall. On the Thursday morning Casey had a visitor, her desk was trashed with research papers, reference books, government pamphlets of consumer data, and charts of LIBOR and the Fed funds rate. Casey had a book to make up for Karyn due that afternoon, and she was finishing up her index. She was now checking to see if she had organized the last two sections properly when she heard the rap against her desk.
“Hello there.”
It was only Hugh.
“God, this is just appalling how they have all these nice young people locked up this way.” Hugh Underhill scrutinized the room, and the other interns smiled at him, not knowing who he was. They goggled at the good-looking man, his arms crossed against his broad chest, his face expressing a mock dismay. He was far too relaxed not to be someone important. The interns had no clue as to who’d factor into their futures, so they had no choice but to always be on their best behavior. “And it’s a gorgeous day outside. Shouldn’t these children be playing in the sunshine? Instead of. . .” Hugh picked up a pamphlet on her desk and flipped through the charts, turning them upside down and right side up. He pretended to gag.
“Oh, it’s you,” Casey said. “Do they let brokers up on six? You know, there are no four-star restaurants here or wine bars.” She suppressed a smile.
His eyebrows lifted knowingly, and he raised his hand. She slapped him a high five. They both laughed.
“Hello, darling,” he said. His smile was headlights dazzling. Most of the interns were still staring at him, and he smiled at them graciously. “Do go back to your tasks, little ones.
“I need a favor, dear girl,” he whispered.
“Yes?” Casey eyed him coldly. “And how may I help you?”
“My, such a suspicious look for such a young girl. Hmm, then again, not that young.”
“Is this how you get people to grant you favors? I can’t imagine that it’s very effective.”
“Ah, yes. Casey, I need a fourth.”
“Pardon?”
“Crane Partners and Kellner Money Management. I’m taking them for a golf outing in Vermont for one of my idea roundtables, and I need a fourth. Walter has three already in his group, I have two, and Kevin is busy. You work for Kearn Davis, so why not? Everyone likes to see a girl golf. It’s an idea roundtable for new initiatives on—”
“A bullshit session?” Casey covered her mouth with her hand. “Oops, I mean, an idea roundtable?” She propped her chin in her hand, her elbow leaning on the desk. “You call yourself a worker?”
“No, darling, I am a genius. You are a common laborer. I am not a laborer. I run idea roundtables. My clients and I will talk about business while we golf. And it would be so very dear of you to join me in this endeavor in your journey to becoming a businesswoman, or should I say business
person
?” Hugh coughed. “Please, Casey. Shall I get on bended knee? Girls like that sort of thing.”
“So do boys.” She couldn’t resist.
“You naughty girl.” Hugh grinned and placed his hand on her shoulder lightly. His thumb rubbed across the sharp bit of bone.
Casey turned back to her index. “When?”
“This weekend.”
“This weekend? It’s Thursday.”
“Please.”
“I have to work. I had last Saturday off for the reunion.”
“I will ask Charlie for a special dispensation,” he said very quietly.
“You must owe Charlie quite a lot already,” she whispered back, but no one seemed to be listening as far as she could tell.
“No, not at all.” Hugh looked serious, and he scribbled on her legal pad in his flowing script: “He gave you the interview as a favor to me, but he wouldn’t have given you the spot unless he thought you were qualified. You had the best transcript in this room. Charlie said so.”
“You didn’t tell me that before,” she wrote back.
“Oh, did I not mention that?” Hugh wrote quickly.
“No,” she said, then wrote down, “Withholding bastard.”
Hugh laughed. “I like that one. That’s new.”
By then, Karyn had walked into the interns’ office and noticed Casey with a man. She approached Casey’s desk.
Casey saw her and tucked away the legal pad under her forearm.
Hugh smiled at Karyn. He didn’t know who she was, not that he cared. She was some single woman—out of habit, he’d checked her ring finger.
“This is Hugh Underhill,” Casey said to Karyn. “And this is Karyn Glissam,” she said to Hugh.
They shook hands.
“Karyn, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you. Charlie has said such nice things about. . . your work.” Hugh’s face looked composed, but his eyes were smiling, and Karyn couldn’t help noticing how attractive he was.
“Oh, are you a friend of Charlie’s?” she asked.
“Yes. Good friends.” He and Charlie had grown up together in New Canaan, had dated many of the girls in the same neighborhood. Their parents belonged to the same clubs in town and in Manhattan. They had played poker every other Tuesday night since they were in college. But there was no need for this Karyn woman, whom Charlie had actually never spoken of, to know any of this.
“Oh,” Karyn said. The senior associate had already figured out that Casey, the twenty-first summer intern to be given a spot in the twenty-student program, must have had an inside track, because Charlie Seedham, the senior banker in charge of the summer program, was almost pleasant to Casey Han. Charlie was customarily indifferent toward the summer kids. It couldn’t have been a sexual thing, Karyn reasoned, because Charlie screwed only blondes, and Casey was not pretty enough to get his attention. But now that she met Hugh, she understood the connection perfectly. But then, what was the relationship between this guy and Casey? she wondered. It didn’t look romantic. In fact, Karyn thought he was flirting with her instead—especially the way he looked at her in that bedroom way.
Karyn was ignoring Casey completely. Casey wondered if she should excuse herself so they could be alone. Poor Karyn was falling for Hugh the way virtually every naive woman fell for Hugh. On Wall Street, the women might have been savvy about profits and losses, but when it came to boys, they knew as much as middle school girls. It wasn’t just that he was handsome and tall and physically fit. He was incredibly attentive—the way he looked at you was exceptional. His focus was absolute. Casey thought it was despicable how he toyed with women. That kind of attention was addictive, and the need would inevitably grow bottomless if you let yourself get hooked. Casey wanted to punish him sometimes, and consequently, she was far meaner to him than he deserved. Although, oddly enough, he had always been very kind to her. He wasn’t a bad person—to say that would be unfair. Hugh was just too charming for his own good, and in a way, Casey thought that was irresponsible.
“Casey here used to work at my desk,” Hugh said, having anticipated what Karyn was wondering.
Casey nodded once in assent but didn’t want to get into it.
“Oh?” Karyn had lost the power of speech. As usual, she was growing quiet around the attractive man.
“No. You look too young.. . .” He spoke as if he doubted himself. “Are you her direct supervisor?” he asked Karyn, feeling his powers grow.
Karyn smiled. “It’s not like that, really.”
But it was.
“Casey is helping me on a few projects.”
“This one is nearly done. I should have it for you in half an hour or less.” Casey kept herself from saying, if Hugh went away, maybe ten minutes. Though it was amusing to watch Karyn act like a crushed-out girl. The truth was that under normal circumstances, Hugh wouldn’t give Karyn a second glance for romantic reasons. She was too serious and angry—the wire spectacles, the ash blond curls, the flat-chested runner’s build, and the one-inch stacked heels with the Ferragamo bows.
“Was there something else you wanted me to do after the book?” Casey asked.
“No,” Karyn said. She wouldn’t give Casey another assignment in front of Hugh. “But I think Larry might need some support this weekend.”
“This weekend?” Casey asked, glancing at Hugh.
Karyn nodded. A gentle smile appeared on her face.
“That would be a shame,” Hugh spoke up. “Our desk really needs Casey this weekend in Vermont for a roundtable. A special request from Walter Chin, my colleague. Oh, he also knows Charlie. We play cards. It’s a horrible imposition on Casey, but I didn’t realize that summer interns worked during the weekends. I hope you don’t have to work weekends, too, Karyn.”
“No, not every weekend.” Karyn smiled shyly. “Have you worked every weekend?” she asked Casey with concern in her voice.
“I had last Saturday off,” Casey replied, recalling P-rade. Jay’s business card was still in her wallet. “And I had a Sunday off. Two weeks back? It doesn’t matter. I can work this weekend. I don’t mind.”
“Well, I’ll talk to Larry, then,” Karyn said. “Why don’t you do this. . . roundtable, then? I didn’t realize you’d been working so much.”
“Karyn, really, I don’t mind. I like to work.”
Hugh smiled at Casey. If he could’ve kicked her under her desk, he would have.
“No, no,” Karyn said, her voice rich with sisterly kindness. “I’ll talk to Larry.”
“You are such a darling. To do that for me. Casey is very lucky to work with you,” Hugh said, smiling at her with unbroken concentration. “Thank you very much. I do appreciate it.”
Karyn smiled anxiously and checked her bare hands. She touched her hair. “Well, bye, then.”
She left them, and out of politeness, Hugh turned to watch her walk out. If Karyn decided to turn around, she’d see that he had been attentive to her completely. This was something women seemed to want even as they professed resentment at being treated like pieces of meat. Why else would they swish their hips when they strolled away? They wanted you to check out their ass.
“You big phony bastard,” Casey wrote on her legal pad, then drew a smiley face.
“I am big,” he scribbled. “And you, Casey Cat, need a weekend in Vermont. It will be beautiful. And you have the best possible golf clubs. Say yes, dear Casey.”
Casey yawned and stretched her arms.
“I’ll pick you up at 7 o’clock on Friday night. The clients are meeting us there. We’ll be teeing off at 8 A.M. the next morning,” he wrote.
“You are such a presumptuous bastard,” she wrote.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I would kiss you right now if I could,” he wrote.
“Ick,” she wrote back. Hugh patted her back and left her office.
On Friday morning, Unu watched Casey finish up her packing for her trip to Vermont. She was running late.
“We met at a golf outing,” he said with diffidence.
“Yes, we did.” Casey smiled to be pleasant. She unzipped the enormous canvas golf bag used for airplane check-in, and Unu lifted her clubs into the bag for her. She tried to imagine walking into the office carrying her golf clubs.
“You haven’t golfed in a while.”
“No, I haven’t. I hope I won’t embarrass myself.” She felt awkward going to this without him. He hadn’t golfed in a while, either. “Maybe we can go after my internship ends and before school starts again. We can drive out to Jersey. Or at least hit a bucket at Chelsea Piers. Hey, where did I leave my watch?” She looked around the living room. Her watch was next to her keys by the door. “Oh,” she said, noticing where it was, then picked up her handbag. “What time is it, honey? Rats, I don’t want to be late.”
“Let me get your watch.” Unu picked up her golf bag and moved it toward the door. He checked her watch. “It’s seven forty-six,” he said, then passed it to her.
“Thanks, babe.” Casey picked up her garment bag. “Oh, damn. Forgot my toiletries. Where is my head?” She ran toward the bathroom and stuffed things into her cosmetics bag.
At the front door, she checked to see if she had everything with her. The thought of getting away made her feel elated.
“I think I have everything.”
Unu said nothing, looking more sober than usual.
“Hey. You okay?” she asked. “You miss these silly boondoggles? I can’t believe Hugh calls them idea roundtables. Such a crock—”
“I got rid of my car and my watch yesterday.”
“What?” Casey put down her keys.
“Yeah. I had to pay Karl, so I gave him the car and the watch.”
“Your bookie? Oh, my God. I didn’t know.”
“How could you? Just happened last night.”
“I’m sorry. Do you need money? I have some money. Here.” Casey opened her wallet. She pulled out a hundred and twenty dollars in cash. Her bills were under control ever since she’d been getting these large summer intern paychecks. “Do you need more? I’ll give you whatever I have.”
Unu pressed her money back into her hand. “No. I don’t want this. I’m fine.”
“You told me that was the watch your dad got you at graduation.”
“It’s just a thing.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Don’t be late for work,” he said, opening the door.
“Unu?” Casey lingered, trying to think of some encouragement.
“You coming back?” he asked her.
