Heart of the Country (3 page)

Then she looked me square in the eyes. Her features tensed and her eyes grew fierce. For a split second I thought
maybe things weren’t going to go my way. But then she said, “Yes!” and sprang into my arms, squeezing me so hard I almost toppled over. I laughed and held on to her.

In the distance, standing on the ledge of the cliff, was Jake. He sipped his drink, watched us for a moment longer, and then turned to walk away.

3

T
O THE LIGHTEST OF APPLAUSE,
Luke formally announced our engagement to his family a week after he’d proposed to me. I had to look hard for one approving smile. Candace, Jake’s wife, seemed oblivious to the rest of the family’s disapproval, so I smiled back at her and kept her in my focus as I tried my best to not look sick to my stomach. Whatever Austin had felt for me before was gone. I suppose he didn’t expect to meet me and then instantly become my father-in-law.

Luke, however, didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the lack of response. I asked him why he didn’t tell his dad and brother the day we were engaged, and he explained that there were just certain ways Carradays did things. The announcement
of an engagement had to be more of a formal affair, a proper gathering or some such. I warned him of the enormous learning curve I was embarking on, but he told me not to sweat it. I kept getting the impression he wasn’t all that fond of his world anyway. There was something restless in his eyes, detached from it all.

After drinks and “light” hors d’oeuvres fancier than anything I’d ever tasted, we returned to the city in his limo. I’d grown fond of his driver, Ward. He was an older gentleman with a wry sense of humor. I got the feeling he always knew more than he was saying.

In the very back, we snuggled against each other and watched the beauty of the Hamptons fade into the roaring life of the city. After some time of comfortable silence, Luke sat up and said, “Have you been thinking of the wedding? What you want? The sky’s the limit.”

“The sky seems impossible to fill.”

“What have you always dreamed of? Every little girl has her wedding dreams, doesn’t she?”

Sure. Olivia and I used to spend hours in the barn, setting up our weddings. The horses were our guests. We’d trade off being bride and groom. But if I had to admit it, dreams had lost their luster for me. The pomp and circumstance of dreams
 
—and their ugly cousin, hope
 
—had led me to a place where I’d stopped dreaming. I’d made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t let dreams and the hope of what could be ever rule my world again.

“You know,” he said, “Candace knows Vera Wang. They do some charity thing together every year.”

A Vera Wang wedding gown? I felt breathless at the thought. I looked at this man I was to marry, the one I’d felt I’d known my whole life. It seemed he wanted nothing more than to make me happy. I had seen this kind of love only once in my life and had believed I’d never see it again. How could I have been fortunate enough to find it?

I turned my attention to him. “Luke . . . I can’t be one of these people . . . one of you people.”

“I know. I would never want that.”

“Then what do you want from me? There’s nothing that I can give you. You have everything.”

“This isn’t everything,” he said, gesturing around us. “You are everything. I don’t need another second to know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Are we really doing this?”

“Yeah.” He touched my arm lightly, like he was making sure I was really there.

“I have a wedding to plan!” I squealed for the first time since I’d left the country. It sounded good.

Luke laughed at me. “Anything you want! Do you want it in the city? Or back in North Carolina?”

I stared out the window, my hand in his, contemplating my options, envisioning myself in a white gown, long and shimmery. Beside me was my dad. At the front of the church stood my sister, holding a white bouquet. But they vanished right before my eyes.

I had a new life here.

I turned to him. “Let’s go away.”

“A destination wedding . . . I like it! Hawaii?”

“No. I mean, you and me. Just . . . you and me.”

“It will always be about you and me,” he said.

“Let’s do it now.”

I could see it in his eyes. He needed no convincing. We gazed at each other and nothing else needed to be said. This was real.

Luke leaned forward. “Ward, take us to MacArthur. And have the plane ready.”

“Sir?”

“Now,” he said with a smile. “Bermuda?” he asked me.

I laughed. “Actually, I was thinking of the courthouse.” I looked down. I didn’t dream big anymore. I hadn’t in years.

“Nothing is off limits,” he said. “Anywhere in the world.”

Funny. I just wanted to be where he was, and the rest of the world could come and go as it pleased.

4

S
HE PULLED AT
each of the sleeves on my jacket, tugging them so that the material sat close and tight atop my shoulders. Her smile gave glimpses of both pride and hesitation. Her calm eyes held mine. “I don’t completely understand why you’re doing this,” she said, “but I know that I completely trust you.”

“That’s all I need,” I said, kissing her on the cheek. “Wish me luck. Wife.”

“You know I don’t need all this,” she said, gesturing around our Central Park West loft. “You don’t have to build an empire.”

I nodded. “I know. Empires have never appealed to me.”

“Do you think this will be the hardest thing you’ll ever do?”

“It’ll be fine,” I said. “I promise. My father is a reasonable man.” A difficult swallow following that statement probably betrayed my confident demeanor, though Faith had a way of seeing through all my guises. After a year of marriage, I’d finally given up on trying any of them.

Ward picked me up downstairs and the drive was quiet. I’d turned off my phone and everything else that might be a distraction, using the twenty-five minutes to focus and go over all the important things I wanted to say.

I arrived at Carraday Towers
 
—the place
Money
magazine had described as a palace to capital, with an old-money touch
 
—a little after 9 a.m. Far from the gaudy gold of Trump, it reeked of staid power. I took the private elevator to the seventieth floor. Even after working here every day since graduating from college, it never felt comfortable to me. As the door swooshed open, I stepped out and turned right, walking the long hallway that felt more like a corridor, my steps quiet against the burgundy carpet.

I have very few childhood memories of my father. He seemed to look the exact same way since I was kid. Never aged. But never young. His hair was always white, like a snowdrift. His skin, baby smooth with ever-pink cheeks.

As I walked silently, hesitantly, a single thought rolled through my mind. I was there to break his heart. It was under the guise of business and life opportunity, and we would both play along as if that were the case, but I was done. I had never
fit quite right into the family. I was the perpetual cockeyed glance. I was the backroom conversation. I was loved but not seen. Not like Jake.

I checked my watch. Right on time. I turned the corner and walked into an office that required double doors to keep the world out. Or in.

“Luke,” he said without looking up. “Please, sit.”

I sank into a leather chair that felt more like a throne, adrift in his massive city. I was surprised Jake wasn’t joining us. He typically never left Dad unattended.

What I’d figured might take ten or so minutes to explain took only two. I’d made the tactical mistake of handing over my documents too early, a distraction to Dad as he tried to listen to me and read what was before him.

I held my breath but tried to look relaxed as I watched my father peer through his reading glasses, looking the sheet that I had handed him up and down. I started to fill the heavy silence that had come upon us, but Dad waved me off and demanded quiet. He then slid his glasses off his face, folding them carefully as he looked at me.

“And you say you’ve thought this through?”

“From every angle.”

“You’ve already met with the Michov Brothers?”

“Yes.”

“This term sheet is final?”

“It’s a done deal.”

At my words, I saw my father’s expression change. I’d only seen that look one other time, years ago when my mother
announced in front of the entire family that she was divorcing my dad. Dad had never remarried and never would. Dara was the love of his life. But money was the love of Dara’s. When my father hit a rough patch and lost millions, she left.

“Why would you want to leave us, Son?”

I’d expected the question but not the tone, which was not harsh or angry. His steel-cut eyes looked dreadfully . . . disappointed? No. Sad.

“Honestly?” I asked, biding my time a little.

“Have you not been honest so far?”

I put my hands on the armrests, felt the leather under my fingers. Most people would go their whole lives and never feel leather like this. But it meant nothing to me. Because it wasn’t by my own hand.

“There’s nothing I can accomplish here.” I looked him right in the eyes like I’d practiced in every mirror in the house.

“What are you talking about?” His hands pressed against his desk and I thought he might stand up. I hated when he stood up. “You have the entire world at your fingertips here!”

“No, I don’t. I have your world,” I said, my voice more urgent than I intended. Why did I need him to understand this so much? “Dad, I am checkmated on all sides of this company.”

I stood and began to pace. Another thing I hated because I did it when I was nervous, but I wanted him to hear me. “First, no matter how much success I have here, everyone will always say it’s because of you.”

He lowered his eyes, staring at nothing on his desk.

“Second, Jake is the first in line. There is no way I can ever run this company.”

His stoicism returned and he folded his fingers together. “You think you’ll be running Michov Brothers?”

I walked to his desk, put my hands on it, leaned in, a little ways across. Even so, I was still far away from him. The desk was so massive that when I was a kid, I got in trouble for lying across it to see if I could touch both ends at the same time. The rumor was it weighed four hundred pounds. Probably the marble.

“No. But, Dad, I’ll be making a name for myself on the Street. This is just the first step.” I tapped my finger on the sheet that lay on his desk.

“How much is enough?” he said, almost to himself.

“This isn’t about money,” I said, retreating to the leather chair.

“You’re certainly asking for much.”

“That’s to buy in. I’ll pay that back. With interest.” I gave a short nod like two men would who trust each other in a business deal.

Dad leaned forward, his eyes sharp as ever. “Just about every person who has sat in that chair and said those words to me has left with my money and never come back.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I knew my dad had been burned many times. Part of it was his position. It just happened at that level. Part of it was, as I always suspected, that my dad was a champion for the underdog. He really did
believe in hard work and a little bit of luck. He’d never admit it, but he did. I hoped he believed that for me.

“I can’t sit in this building for the rest of my life.” I felt heavy suddenly. It hit me: I’d felt like this my whole life, and it was the first time I’d said it out loud. “I just can’t, Dad.”

“So you’re going to quit and take my money with you?”

I shook my head. He wasn’t getting it. He was hurt. Growing angry. Which made me angrier because he never seemed to hear me. “No,” I said evenly, “I’m going to quit and cash out equity that was going to be my inheritance.”

“Your inheritance?” He breathed it more than said it.

“If I lose it, I lose it.”

“Hmm.” He leaned back in his chair, almost disappearing into the shadow of the massive bookshelf behind him. “That’s a dangerous game.”

“Life’s about taking risks.” I also leaned back, crossed my legs. “They don’t actually teach that at Harvard. In a class, anyway. But it’s not a bad philosophy.”

“Sure. Until you lose.”

Dad’s secretary, Mona, came to the door, her long legs the center of attention. “Mr. Carraday, they’re waiting on you.”

“Thank you, Mona.”

I glanced at my watch. Dad had scheduled me in for a whole fifteen minutes. Unbelievable. In the old days, I would’ve walked next to him, fighting to keep up with his pace, talking fast to get all my points in. But instead, I remained seated. That, perhaps, was the most powerful state
ment I could’ve made. I watched Dad stand and gather his materials for his next appointment. I stayed quiet. So did he.

He walked past me. I didn’t turn. But then he did, which surprised me. All he said was “Okay, Son. Okay.” And he left.

I expected my heart to be broken, but it had never felt more glued together in my life.

I took a moment to compose myself and close my briefcase. Mona smiled warmly at me as I left, assuming business was as usual. I returned to the corridor that took me to the private elevator.

At least I could have Ward drive me one more time.

But no sooner had my feet hit the concrete sidewalk than Jake was on my tail. Dad had to have called him right away.

“Have you lost your
min
d
?” he yelled behind me.

There was no use running. I had to face him.

He hadn’t even caught his breath when he said, “You didn’t even tell me? You just march into Dad’s office and blow up our family?”

“I couldn’t tell you, Jake. I knew you’d tell Dad. And I needed to be the one to do it.”

“I don’t understand this at all.” His eyes searched me as though he might find the answer in my expression.

“I know you don’t. That’s because you’re the firstborn, Jake. You’re never going to understand what it means to be second.”

His shoulders slumped a little. “Is second so bad?” he asked, gesturing up toward the skyscraper that held our offices. “Is this so bad?”

“No. But I have to make my own way.”

A pause in our conversation was filled by the busyness of the street. Sounds of traffic swallowed both our heavy sighs. Streams of people filtered by without a moment’s notice of our strife.

Then Jake said, “It’s her.”

“No.”

“It is. It’s her. I told you from the beginning to U-turn it right around.”

“This was not Faith’s idea,” I said firmly.

“You bought a
rental
. Do you not understand this, Luke? She’s the kind of girl you rent
 
—not what you buy.”

“Why are you making this about her?”

“She is not good enough for this family. She never was. She never will be.”

“This is
not
about her.”

“Oh yes it is.” Jake spun, almost walking circles around me. “I’ll give her credit. She may be hillbilly trash, but she’s not stupid.”

I’d never seen Jake like that. He’d never stooped so low. That morning I’d told myself to keep my cool no matter what. But I really couldn’t have predicted this. Jake was losing his mind right before my eyes.

“She is my
wife
.”

“And she knows that as long as you’re with the family, as long as we have influence, she’s in jeopardy. So she sells you garbage about standing on your own
 
—being your own
man
 
—and the next thing you know, you actually think this is your idea.”

“It is my idea.”

“Right. You’ve ostracized the family that’s been nothing but good to you, taken millions from us, and handed it over to that wife of yours. Real smart.”

I stood there on the sidewalk, watching my older brother sweat like a pig, his eyes shadowy with contempt, and all I could think of were our days as little boys on Dad’s yacht, soaking up the sun. We were close then. He was always taller, bigger, but he never pushed me around. I could tell he thought of me as his equal most of the time. It made me stand taller next to him, and I found myself listening to his advice as we got older.

But then we both were indoctrinated into the family business. We were allowed a week off, to move back home from our universities. And then we started.

It seemed like eons ago. I stood my ground as I pushed my foot hard into the sidewalk. “Don’t talk to me like that. Don’t talk about her like that.”

“The truth hurts, kiddo.”

I wanted to slap that smug look right off his face. “One year,” I growled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“In one year I will yield more than you’ve ever done in your career.”

“You’re burning a bridge, Luke.”

“Watch your clients.”

He stormed off. I turned and walked to the idling car at the curb. I got in, told Ward to take me home. I stared out the window, remembering hazy sunsets on the beach, finding clams and swording with sticks. Two bronze-skinned boys playing endlessly, until the sun hid from them.

But Faith was my life now. I had to do anything to keep her.