42. Lucy
Lucy
“ O h my god,” Kennedy gushes as we slowly approach the front gates of a historic estate out in Gladwyne. “Look at this place. I honestly thought I was immune to feeling impressed by money after working for your grandmother, but—” She shakes her head, looking blown away.
I can’t blame her. The old Westbrook Estate is one of the most beautiful private properties in the whole region. I’ve only ever been here once, back before my family’s name was ruined, and haven’t been invited back since.
At least until today.
Our driver is a young guy named Vinny. He’s doing his best not to look totally overwhelmed and absolutely failing. I can tell he’s barely been outside his little South Philly neighborhood. He pulls up to the intercom and hits the buzzer.
“Yes?” a muffled voice says.
“I’ve got Lucy Marino and Kennedy—” He glances back at her, frowning.
“Walsh,” she whispers.
“And Kennedy Walsh.” He clears his throat. “Here to see?—”
“Come in.” The gate buzzes and pulls aside.
“Well, fuck,” Vinny whispers as we roll up a long, twisting driveway to a massive manor home surrounded by pristine trees, manicured bushes, and expensively arranged local flowers.
“You can stay out here,” I tell him when he parks in front of the house.
“I’m supposed to guard you,” he says nervously. “We’ve got that other car nearby?—”
“We’ll be fine.” I push open the door and get out. “I’ll shout if I need help.”
“Don’t worry, Vinny, I got her.” Kennedy grins at him.
He’s not happy, but what can he do? I’ve found that I get certain liberties as the Don’s wife.
The front doors open as we approach. I expect a member of the staff, but instead, Charlie Westbrook herself is there to greet us.
“Hello, Lucille,” she says, beaming at me.
She’s small, brunette, very pretty with big eyes and thick hair.
She’s always dressed perfectly, right now in black slacks and a silky blouse, everything fashionably large.
She doesn’t offer a hug or a handshake, which I like.
She doesn’t pretend as though we’re friends since we never were.
She didn’t abandon me back in the day, but she also didn’t try to bridge the void.
“Thanks for meeting with us, Charlie. This is my friend, Kennedy.”
“Nice to meet you.” Charlie turns and gestures for us to follow. “I don’t have long, I’m afraid. Riding lessons soon.” She chats about her horses as we head into a massive and richly decorated home.
Kennedy gapes around, clearly at a loss.
I don’t blame her. Even I’m impressed by the Westbrook family’s opulence.
They’re one of the oldest families in the region and definitely the richest. Charlie’s great-great-grandfather started one of the original investment vehicles in the city, and they’ve been managing huge chunks of Philly’s wealth ever since.
They’re connected in every way that matters and deeply respected.
We end up in a sitting room. Tea is already served. I can tell Charlie doesn’t want to linger, but she’s doing a nice job of keeping up a friendly facade. We all sit, and she gamely pours our cups. I make a show of adding honey and lemon to mine while Kennedy asks polite questions about the house.
“Oh, you know, it’s just a big old place with too many rooms. My parents filled it up with antiques, and I swear the spider population is absolutely thriving.
” She’s the kind of rich person who has no need to flaunt her wealth.
I almost like her for it. But then she leans back in her chair and crosses her legs, her eyes sliding over to me, her smile fading. “I suppose we should get down to it.”
“I assume you heard about the accident.” I remain sitting stiffly on the edge of my couch.
“I did. Such a shame. Richard was a friend of my father’s.”
“He was a friend of a lot of people.” I arch my eyebrows at her. “Did you like him?”
“Not at all. He was a fucking perv. And his wife’s not much better.”
I try not to smile at that. “Then you’re not exactly mourning.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way, no.”
“Good.” I sip my tea. “Then we can talk.”
Charlie considers me. Her lips press together for a moment. “I’ll admit, when I heard you married Adriano Marino, I thought it was a joke. I mean, no offense, but it doesn’t feel like the most logical match. And now I wonder. You’re more of a player than you let on.”
“Lucy’s involved in the business,” Kennedy announces. I flush slightly and keep my heart rate under control. “From what I understand, you are too.”
“And how are you involved in all this, exactly?” Charlie asks, eyebrows raised.
“I’m Lucy’s personal secretary.” Kennedy’s smile is dagger sharp. “You have a lot of lovely art in this place, you know.”
Charlie’s head tilts. She considers that for a moment, and I wonder if she hears the threat. I didn’t know Kennedy could be such a bad bitch, but I love her for it.
I step in, playing good cop. “We want to negotiate. I know things have been difficult lately. My husband’s feud with Gray Wolf has been spilling out all over the place, and everyone’s suffering. We want to put an end to it.”
Charlie scowls at me. “Why do you think I can do anything about that?”
“You have your grandfather’s ear.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Come on, we all know the truth. You’re in line to inherit. That old man adores you. He’ll listen.”
“And what, exactly, would he listen to?”
I glance at Kennedy. She gives me a short, subtle nod, her face stony and serious. That little encouragement is enough to keep me going.
“When the dust settles, all that lost artwork is going to pay out. Insurance will cover it all and then some. Nobody will be left behind. My husband will make sure of that.”
“An interesting theory, but insurance takes time, and ashes don’t appreciate in value like a good Renoir.”
“We want there to be more opportunities in the art space. I’m sure you’re aware of how difficult Gray Wolf can be to work with.
They control the high-end market right now, making it almost impossible to appraise and auction the most expensive pieces without them taking a slice.
But if they were to be replaced and competition returned, I’m wondering if prices wouldn’t come down.
Lower commissions could be worth the losses alone. ”
Charlie seems interested. She taps a fingernail against the porcelain cup, her tongue lightly clenched between her teeth. “It’ll be a hard sell. My grandfather doesn’t like your husband very much.”
“I can only imagine what he thinks, but you’ll be dealing with me.”
“You’re not much better.” She smiles and shrugs. “Just being honest.”
“The Marino Family will muscle Gray Wolf out. They’ll take on some of their former functions, but maybe someone else clever and well-connected might want a slice of the future profits.”
Now Charlie is really listening. She said herself, her parents love this stuff, and now I’m offering her family the chance to get a direct line into the arts market, without the hassle of criminal middlemen. Well, aside from my husband, of course.
“I’m interested,” she says at last. “I’ll speak with my grandfather and see what he thinks. It’s a very fascinating proposal.” She stands abruptly. “Now honestly, the horses are waiting. I must get going.”
“Thank you for meeting with us.” I shake her hand. Kennedy does the same.
“Beautiful home,” Kennedy murmurs.
Charlie leaves the room like a breeze, and a staff member appears to escort us to the door.
My palms are sweaty and my heart’s racing as we step out into the afternoon sunlight.
Kennedy grins at me, and we walk fast, footsteps crunching over white stones, heading toward where Vinny’s leaning against the car with a big scowl on his face.
“You did it.” Kennedy slips her hand into mine. “I’m so stinking proud of you.”
“Thank you.” I barely get the words out because I’m stinking proud too.
Charlie’s family represents everything that hates me.
They might not have been the worst of them back when my parents died and Grandmother was left struggling to hold everything together, but they still were a part of the problem.
The Westbrooks look down on us and always have.
But I just walked into their house and negotiated. I made them an offer that could benefit us both. A new market and new opportunities. All they have to do is whisper in the right ears, and suddenly the city won’t be against Adriano anymore.
I can do this. I can be useful. My connections might not be the best, but at least I can work them. Grandmother’s always been wrong about me. I could never live up to her perfect expectations.
But now that I’m free, it’s time for me to flourish.
“I was about to come storming in there with a gun,” Vinny grumbles as we get back into the car.
“Glad you didn’t,” Kennedy says, punching him in the arm. “Otherwise, you’d be dead, and it’d be a shame to get your cheap blood on their really expensive marble.”
He scowls at her and starts driving back home.