She was dressed casually yet professionally. When she met them, she didn’t want to appear as if she was trying too hard to make the statement that she had made it and moved on, even though she knew she was.
She had changed since the opening of her father’s building. She’d moved out of their home, found an apartment of her own, landed a job with her father’s rival, married Michael Archer.
She was independent. She had accomplished her goals and she’d done it without her their help. Never again would she need her parents to back her financially. Never again would she have to rely on them. There was freedom there, but a kind of sadness as well. Why did she feel that only she would recognize her accomplishments and not her parents, the very people she most wanted to recognize them?
The Redman International Building came into sight.
Leana saw a large group of reporters gathered outside its entrance. She hesitated, knowing that if she was going to see her parents, she would have to go through this pool of sharks and take the brunt of their questions. Resisting the thought of turning back, she asked the driver to pull as close to the entrance as possible. When the car stopped, she didn’t wait for the driver. She opened the door, lowered her head and stepped out.
She pushed forward, ready for the assault.
But it didn’t come. As she neared the crowd, a sleek black limousine, followed by two unmarked police cars, pulled to the curb.
Leana stepped back and watched in surprise as the doors to the two unmarked cars shot open and several men stepped out.
Holding the crowd of reporters at bay, creating a human shield around the limousine’s rear passenger door, the men protected her mother and father as they left the car and began moving toward the entrance.
The crowd was relentless. Microphones raised, cameras flashing, voices rising above the increasing din, they pressed forward, shouting at her mother, screaming at her father, trying in vain to gain some insight into Celina’s death, on the takeover of WestTex, on their reaction to Eric Parker’s death.
The police were losing control. The place was erupting. In horror, Leana watched the crowd shift suddenly and knock her mother to the ground. George tried to help his wife to her feet, but the photographers knew a shot of her on the pavement was gold. They swarmed, making it virtually impossible for him to help her. Their cameras snapped, flashed and captured the moment for a world hungry for more.
Leana sprang forward, forcing her way through the crowd.
There was a moment when no one recognized her, when she was able to squeeze through and help her mother to her feet-and then, for an instant, everything went still as realization crossed the faces of seventy-five people. The outcast was here.
Elizabeth looked at her daughter in wide-eyed disbelief. A camera went off. George said Leana’s name just as the situation blew.
The crowd started jumping, thrashing, taking photo after photo, knowing what an opportunity this was and refusing to miss it. The police pushed the crowd back, threatened them, determined to gain control.
When a path finally cleared, Leana grasped her mother’s hand and they charged toward the entrance with George at their side, not stopping until they were safely inside and the doors were closed behind them.
For a moment, nothing was said.
Mother and father and daughter looked at one another, still shaken by what had just happened. Outside, the press were jammed against the windows, vying for position, recording everything that was happening inside.
“I thought you were hurt,” Leana said to her mother. “I thought they were hurting you.”
“I’m all right,” Elizabeth said. “I’m fine.”
“But they pushed you,” Leana said.
Elizabeth glanced down at the tear in her black dress, at the scrape on her leg and then looked back at Leana. She seemed to hesitate, then she walked over and held her youngest daughter tightly.
Leana felt overwhelmed by her mother’s embrace. She looked at her father, but sensed a cool distance. George was staring at her.
“I’m sorry,” Leana said to her mother. “Michael and I came as soon as we received Harold’s call.”
Elizabeth pulled back, brushed a lock of hair from her daughter’s forehead, but she didn’t acknowledge Leana’s marriage. Instead, she held Leana’s face in her hands.
“Have they learned anything yet?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. “But they will.”
“When I saw you fall, I didn’t know what to think. First the spotlights, now Celina. I thought someone got to you.” Her voice thickened. She looked over at her father. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt either of you.”
George looked away.
The slight was like a slap to Leana’s face. She tried to still the anger rising within her, but she couldn’t. “Is there something you want to say to me, Dad?” she asked.
George looked at his daughter, moved to speak, but decided to let it pass. He began walking toward the family elevator, which was behind him.
And that’s all it took. Leana went after him.
She moved past Elizabeth. Besides those members of security who had followed them inside, the lobby was otherwise empty.
Leana’s voice-high and angry-echoed in the enormous space. “Don’t walk away from me,” she said. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”
Her father stopped and turned. “All right,” he said. “I want to know why you’re going to work for Louis Ryan.”
“Why?” Leana said. “Because you threw me out. Because I need work in order to eat and have a place to sleep. Because Uncle Harold suggested I contact him. Louis offered me a job and I took it.”
“And so he did,” George said. “And what exactly is that job, Leana?”
As if you don’t know. “I’ll be running his new hotel for him.”
“You’ll be running his new hotel for him,” George said. “Well, well-that makes all the sense in the world. Here’s a woman who has absolutely no experience managing anything other than her shoes and the men she fucks, and she’s been asked to manage the largest hotel in Manhattan. Now I can understand why you got the job. You’re obviously suited for it.”
“George…”
“Stay out of this, Elizabeth.”
“At least he’s willing to take a chance on me,” Leana said. “At least he’s taken an interest in me, which you never have.”
“You’re so naive,” George said. “Tell me, why is he taking such an interest in you? Certainly not because of your skills, so it must be to get at me. Can’t you see that? Are you that blind? The man is using you. He’ll probably end up hurting you.”
While Leana sensed part of that was true, she wouldn’t admit it to her father. “As if you’d give a damn. And besides, I don’t believe that,” she said. “He’s done things for me that you’ve never done. He’s treated me like the father you never were.” She shot him a look. “And why is that, Dad? Why is it that you never brought me to Redman International when I was a kid? You brought Celina. You brought Celina every fucking day. You treated her like the son you never had.”
George shoved a finger at her. “You leave Celina out of this,” he said. “You’re not going to drag her into this. Not this. Not now.”
“Try and stop me,” Leana said. “For years you gave her opportunities I never was given. For years you showered her with the love you refused to give me. You neglected me. You made me feel worthless, as if you wished I was never born. You pushed me from your life when I wanted to be close to you, you made me hate my own sister when I should have loved her. Jesus Christ, Dad-and people wonder why I got so screwed up on drugs. People wonder why I’m so goddamned angry now!”
“That’s right,” George said. “Blame your problems on me. Isn’t that how you played it in rehab? Get the sympathy vote by taking your old man down?” He took a step toward her. “Let me tell you something, girl. You’ve had it good your entire life. You’ve had things millions of people will never have. You’ve been privileged and spoiled. So, please, don’t give me any bullshit about how I neglected you, because that’s hardly the case.”
Leana shook her head sadly. “You just don’t get it, do you? You really think you were a prize father. What a joke. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. The great George Redman does no wrong.”
