“Christy, we can’t have the entire Ruiz family and their goat living with us. Get real. They go, and we’ll do everything to get custody of Renata.”
“No, Michael.” She had let her guard down, and now he was going to impose his will when it came to Renata and her family. I never should have let him near me again, she thought. A man like this, a Master of the Universe, can never be trusted to take my needs into account. What was I thinking? She asked Steven to pull over.
“No, Steven, don’t pull over. Christy, you can’t get out here, it’s five in the morning. We’re in Harlem.”
“Steven, pull over now,” Christy said. She didn’t give a damn where they were. She was angrier than she could remember being, angry at herself for thinking things could be different. Steven wasn’t sure which boss to obey, but Christy must have been more convincing because he pulled over and let her out. Michael was pissed off now, too. He slammed the door after her and drove off.
Christy walked along Lenox Avenue, watching Harlem wake up. Then she found herself moving faster, finally starting to calm down with the decades-old comfort of running. She hit Central Park just as it was getting light, and she ran along its outer edge until she hit Seventy-eighth Street and turned toward home.
Christy had absolutely no idea what she should do. Or what she would do.
Mrs. De Mille’s Legacy
Michael was sitting in his chair in the living room when she walked in the door. He was holding a letter. “Christy,” he called to her. “Come here.”
She walked over to him, maintaining an emotional distance. “What is it?”
“Take a look at this.”
She sat on the sofa and unfolded it. It was from the law firm of Pizzarello, Knowles, and Levy.
Re: Estate of Anna De Mille
Dear Mrs. Drummond,
We have tried unsuccessfully to contact you over the last week. It is our understanding that you are the legal guardian of the minor Renata Ruiz. We represented Mrs. Anna De Mille prior to her recent passing. Please be informed that Mrs. De Mille has left the bulk of her estate to Renata Ruiz. The estimated value of the inheritance is yet to be determined. It includes Mrs. De Mille’s Manhattan apartment and an oceanfront home in Palm Beach, Florida. The remaining assets are in securities, silverware, jewelry, loose diamonds, and three Fabergé Imperial eggs. The will specifies that Ms. Ruiz not be told that she is the owner of these assets until she has reached the age of twenty-five years. I would appreciate it if you would contact me at the telephone number listed above so that we can commence the execution of Mrs. De Mille’s will.
Sincerely,
Lara Nisonoff
P.S. There is also a Testamentary Trust on behalf of Mr. Koodles, Mrs. De Mille’s cat. Renata Ruiz has been named the Executor of that Trust. I will explain more when we talk.
Christy looked at Michael. He was smiling. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“No, what?”
“It means that Renata can live downstairs in Mrs. De Mille’s old apartment with her relatives and that goddamn goat. Thank you, Lord! How did you know?” Michael actually danced a jig. He was that happy. She couldn’t help but smile at him. Okay, she had to admit it. Things were looking up.
You Can’t Go Home Again
The elevator opened to Baby G’s tenth-floor offices. Christy’s feet had barely touched the hardwood floor when the receptionist jumped out of her seat and ran over to hug her old boss.
“How are you? Oh my God, it’s so great to see you. We’ve missed you so much. Are you coming back? Please say you’re coming back,” she begged.
Christy just smiled and walked toward her meeting. She looked around at the headquarters that used to be her second home. It felt like she’d never worked there.
“Christy, how are you? You look wonderful!” Lisa said, as she walked into the reception area. “Staying home really agrees with you.”
“You think?” Christy said, smiling. She had dreamed of this moment so many times, of being welcomed back by her people. She drank it in.
As she strolled through the sea of desks in the communal workspace, Christy could barely make it to the boardroom. Almost every employee came over to greet her and give her a hug, show her wedding or baby pictures, let her know how much she was missed.
Christy reached out to open the boardroom door, but it opened on its own. Niles stood there to greet her. He started to shake her hand and then threw his arms around her instead. The one person in this room she could trust. Dick Bender was next. Had he no shame? When Karl Lehmann came at her, she held her arms out to keep him at bay. “Enough, guys.” As she took the closest empty seat at the large oval table, she remembered picking it out with Katherine at an antiques store on Twelfth Street. She looked around slowly, eye to eye with each man in the room. Katherine was not there. These were the men who had screwed her. It was clear that today, for reasons she didn’t understand, she held the cards. She was going to take her time bringing them relief of any kind.
Niles broke the quiet in the room. “Christy, I know I speak for every board member when I say that we are so glad to see you sitting here. We asked you to meet with us today because we realize we made a big mistake five months ago, and we want to make it right.” It wasn’t quite as satisfying as it would have been coming from one of the six scumbags who’d ditched her,
