Authors: Nina Howard
Chapter One
Lumi laid the linen napkin on the sterling tray, careful to smooth out any creases that may have developed since she ironed it just minutes before. Her hands trembled a bit as she put the out-of-season peony in the crystal vase. Yesterday she couldn’t find peonies anywhere in all of New York City and substituted a whisper pink rose, and there had been hell to pay. The china coffee cup was stacked on the saucer, with a sterling silver spoon beside it. She folded the New York Times into even thirds and laid it across the right hand side of the tray, exactly as she had every morning since she started work for Victoria Vernon three years ago. A steaming pot of coffee, half Kona, half Sumatra decaf sat next to a china creamer. Lumi took a moment to straighten everything a final time, before she knocked on Mrs. Vernon’s bedroom door exactly at 8:45.
Mr. Vernon always left the apartment before Lumi arrived, in fact, she rarely saw him. She had already gotten the children up and to school. Mrs. Vernon was not what you’d call a morning person, Lumi thought. No matter what time she got out of bed. Lumi stood outside the bedroom door. 8:44. She waited the additional minute, knocking lightly at precisely 8:45. No answer. She knew Mrs. Vernon had been out late the night before - Lumi had already seen photos of her from some benefit in the paper earlier this morning. Then again, Mrs. Vernon went out most every night. Today would be no different. Lumi knocked lightly again and gently opened the door. The bed was empty.
“Mrs?” Lumi called. No answer.
Lumi put the tray down and looked around suspiciously. Mrs. Vernon never got up on her own. “Mrs?” she called again.
“Lumi!” Lumi nearly jumped out of her skin. The call came from Mrs. Vernon’s closet, which Lumi knew was bigger than her entire apartment in the Bronx. “Lumi!”
Lumi cautiously poked her head into the closet. There Victoria Vernon stood, stark naked except for a pair of four inch stiletto sandals. Mrs. Vernon was busy admiring the only part of her body that was covered. “Lumi, do you think it’s too early for sandals during the day?” Victoria asked.
Lumi stood, head down, more out of modesty than deference.
“They are just so pretty and I can’t wait for spring!” Victoria said more to herself than her maid. “Damn the snow!”
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Victoria Vernon, still clad only in stylish sandals, inspected the dress she had worn the night before. She ran her hand over the gold and white brocade of the voluminous skirt, mourning it just a little bit. Since she was photographed so often, she never wore the same gown twice. They were archived on the South wall of her closet, waiting for their day at the Met. Rumor had it that Lydia Judson sold her gowns at consignment. Victoria gave an involuntary shudder.
She absent-mindedly ran her hand across the cashmere sweaters that were stacked by color and weight, like she was looking through a file cabinet. She loved the feel of cashmere so much, she wore it all year round. Her belts were arranged by color and width. And the shoes. Oh, the shoes. Victoria didn’t have the Carrie Bradshaw love of shoes that most of her friends confessed to. She bought shoes to impress. Christian Louboutin, Jimmy Choo, Manolo. If they were on Victoria’s feet, it was because someone would be able to appreciate them.
The same with the bags, the trousers, the blouses. Even her plain white t-shirts were wickedly expensive, but meticulously cared for. But the coats. Victoria had a thing for her coats. Armani, Calvin Klein, Burberry -- she loved the weight of one sliding over her, wrapping her in a final layer of luxury. She could never envision living in Los Angeles - how could you live without coats?
She rested her hand on a favorite Max Mara swing coat. Spring was coming soon. She’d have to transition into trenches. She thought out the day before her to plan what she should wear. Betsy was coming at ten to do her daily blowout, then lunch with Kiki Montgomery at Nobu, a board meeting at the Met at three. She had drinks with Trip and a client at 6:00, and then dinner with the Van Hornes at 8:00 at Per Se. Gunnar had cancelled their Pilates session which was really a bother, as Victoria really didn’t want to have to find a new trainer, but canceling on Victoria Vernon was just not done.
She toyed with the idea of putting together a day-to-night look, then quickly shook it off. That never really worked. She forgave it in women who worked at in office and had no time, but it was like putting your children into daycare. She understood that people had to do it if they had no choice, but thankfully she had a choice. She had plenty of time to change after the board meeting, and she knew that since Trip was bringing a new client, he would expect her to look amazing. Which she always did.
Her thoughts turned to Trip. She knew he was up to something, but it was really too tiresome to try to find out what it was. If it was an affair, she hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to do anything about it. She had worked too hard to get them where they were. If he wanted to fuck his secretary, fine. Just keep it at the office where it belongs. When David Lewis left Natalie for his 24 year old “assistant” Natalie had been regulated to social purgatory. Due to the prenup, she was left with next to nothing. David kept the clubs, the Boards, the friends and the status, and his life didn’t change one bit. It was like Natalie didn’t exist anymore. The last time she and Kiki had seen Natalie shopping at Barney’s, they did a quick u-turn so they wouldn’t have to interact. Victoria just hoped Trip wouldn’t be so foolish.
She’d get back to the outfit. Coffee first. She strode across her expansive master suite to the to the tray Lumi had brought in. She poured herself a cup of coffee, taking a minute to admire the Cartier coffee cup. Victoria was surrounded by the most luxurious
everything
but she still appreciated it. She sipped her coffee as she flipped through the paper, stopping to review the photos from last night. Good placement, large photo in the middle of the page. She laughed aloud seeing that although the paper covered Mimi Hedges, Mimi Hedges was barely covered. It was grainy and black and white, but there was definitely nipple in that shot! She deserved it. There was a too-big photo (by Victoria’s standards anyway) of Grant Tyler and Stephen Marcus. They were the darling gay couple of the moment, and sharing press with gay men was worse than sharing with children or dogs. She far preferred when she was on the same page as some large Texas widow, garishly outfitted and twice her size. Oh well, she thought as she flung the carefully folded paper on the sofa, at least she got Mimi Hedges. It was going to be a good day.
Back in the closet, she took out a pair of impeccable Armani pants in a rich beige worsted wool and paired them with a charmeuse cream silk blouse. She loved to dress with a monochromatic look - it looked and felt so rich to her. She opened the top drawer of her lingerie dresser to pick out some La Perla to wear underneath when she heard a timid knock at the door. At first she barely heard it. Then she ignored it. The knock came again, this time a bit less timid.
“Mrs?” came the call from beyond the door.
“Come in Lumi,” she called.
“Lumi, tell Santiago that I want him to start preparing the planters on the terrace. I think we’re in for a good stretch of weather, don’t you?”
“Mrs. - phone call,” Lumi handed the portable phone to Victoria.
“Who is it?” Victoria hated talking on the phone.
“Mrs. Pearson,” Lumi said, eyes firmly fixed on the ground.
Victoria sighed heavily and extended her hand for the phone. Lucy Pearson was the town slut and gossip - that is if the town was the Upper East Side of Manhattan. That’s why Victoria stayed on the good side of Lucy Pearson. She grabbed the phone from Lumi’s hand.
“Lucy! We missed you at the Hospital Gala last night,” Victoria said. She knew that the Pearsons were having some financial troubles, and the $10,000 per table ticket was a little steep for them. “It was terribly boring, though, you didn’t miss a thing.”
“Boring? That’s not what I heard. I just got off the phone with Gabby Steinhope and she was full of delicious tidbits about last night.”
Victoria looked at her watch. She was running late, but really wanted the goods that Lucy was offering. She had seen Gabby last night out of the corner her eye, but purposely stayed away. Gabby was a notorious gossip, which was more the reason to play nice with her. “I’m meeting Kiki at Nobu at noon - you have to join us. I insist,” she said. And before Lucy could decline, she added, “My treat.”
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Victoria emerged from the entrance to her exclusive building chest held high, ready to tackle her day. There were Masters of the Universe down on Wall Street, Victoria was Master of Her Universe. Every day was an opportunity to conquer. She took a deep breath of the Manhattan air, more fragrant to her than any designer perfume. Her driver, Georgio, held open the door to the sleek black town car.
“Good morning Mrs. Vernon.”
“It is a good morning, Georgio!” Victoria was in a good mood, and everyone around her benefitted from it.
She slid into the quiet of the backseat and looked out the window as they drove downtown. She loved this town. Loved the ladies strolling down Fifth, loved the tourists with maps and cameras, loved the homeless guys shuffling their folding carts through the park. When she arrived in Manhattan out of school, she felt as if she finally fit in. Even in the piece-of-shit one bedroom she shared with her roommate Andrea that barely had heat and castoff furniture, she knew she was finally in the right place for the first time in her life. When she met Trip Vernon, she knew she had found someone that fit her as well as Manhattan did.
When she met Trip almost 15 years ago, she was working at a private wine auction house. Trip was with a group of other Goldman Sachs young bucks, but he stood out from the pack. They were all posers - buying the most expensive wine without any palate at all -- trying to seem like they were players. Trip didn’t try to impress her, which managed to impress her all the more. He tasted the wines, but didn’t buy a bottle. He did manage to get her number before they left.
Robert Parkinson Vernon III was exactly what Victoria had been looking for when she set her sights on getting married. Well, almost. She had wanted a Harvard man, or Ivy league at least. He wasn’t Harvard - he had gone to Williams, and she supposed it would have to do. He wasn’t East Coast either. He was from Milwaukee. But he was Milwaukee old money. Beer money. The beer that made Milwaukee famous paid for most of the items that made Victoria Vernon fabulous.
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