Going For Broke Read online

  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!”

  ###

  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.”
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  “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.”

  ###

  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.

  ###

  Victoria arrived at the restaurant precisely at noon. She hated being late, and hated it more when other people kept her waiting. The maitre ‘d greeted her warmly and told her that Mrs. Montgomery and Mrs. Pearson were already waiting for her. Well done, ladies. As they passed the gorgeous Nobu bar, made from one single rough-hewn plank of wood almost 25 feet long, Victoria ran her hand along it, admiring its smoothness. Perhaps they should think about putting something like this in the rec room of their house in Connecticut? They were redoing the basement, and going with a Zen-like feel could be just the ticket. She’d have to call her decorator Kappy in Connecticut first thing tomorrow.

  As she approached the table, her friends rose to greet her. There was much air kissing and general gushing. Most of it towards Victoria.

  “Victoria -- you look amazing, as usual.” Victoria just nodded. Amazing as usual was a compliment as usual. She turned to Kiki.

  “Kiki, darling. How are you? How is the new jumper? I hope he’s giving you a run for the money.” Kiki Montgomery loved her horses more than her children.

  “Victoria, thank you for asking. He’s magnificent! I can’t wait to get back to the farm to see him again.” She spoke with the wistful longing of someone in the throes of new love. “You really should come see him the next time you’re up.”

  They had saved Victoria the seat that looked out into the restaurant, knowing how particular she could be. Victoria was known to walk out of a restaurant, a group of seven people in tow, if the table didn’t suit her. It didn’t happen often, and never happened twice in the same restaurant.

  The waiter came, and as expected, Lucy ordered a bottle of wine. An expensive bottle, as she knew Victoria was paying. Victoria never drank during the day, she had too much to do. Kiki would have one glass, barely touching her lip with it, leaving the rest for Lucy. They didn’t look at the menus.

  “Just have Chef send out something for us,” Victoria said dismissively.

  “Uh, he isn’t in today,” the waiter responded, a bit confused.

  Victoria looked up, studying the waiter intently, “You’re new here.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes,” the waiter’s voice cracked a bit.

  “If he’s not here, then call him.”

  Victoria turned to Lucy and focused all of her attention on the holder of the secrets. Victoria’s ability to make someone feel that they were the center of her universe was one of the reasons that she was so well-liked, even though she was feared. “Okay, Lucy. Spill.”

  Lucy Pearson then took the stage. She regaled Kiki and Victoria with a juicy story about how Bunky Davenport not only did not bring his “long-time girlfriend” Alyssa, which was code for ‘never going to marry her’, but his date for the evening had a decidedly masculine vibe. So much so, Lucy said, that she got it on very good authority that Bunky’s date was spotted peeing in the ladies room standing up, feet to the wall.

  Victoria laughed a deep laugh, and Lucy was gratified that her gossip du jour had been so effective.

  “I want to know who was looking under the stalls in the bathroom at the Plaza,” Victoria said, laughing as she picked up her spicy Big Eye Tuna Roll.

  “Probably Judy Warburg,” Kiki said. “She was falling down before dinner was served.

  “And falling out,” said Victoria. “I guess if you pay that much for breasts, you might as well show them off.”

  “I think it’s vulgar,” Kiki said. Kiki had a chest as flat as a twelve-year old boy.

  Lucy put down her glass and cupped her own breasts with her two hands. “They may not be very perky anymore, but they’re all mine!”

  Victoria did get a kick out of Lucy. Although she normally wouldn’t schedule a lunch with both Kiki and Lucy, it was fun to watch Lucy shock poor Kiki. Kiki Montgomery still had the sensibility of a Miss Porter’s girl, and still dressed like one. When Lucy came on the scene ten years ago, she had mountains of money, all of it new, which she never tried to hide. The Pearsons had serious money. Past tense. Even though they may be on hard times lately, Freddy Pearsons was the kind of guy that rebounded easily. Kiki may have been scandalized by Lucy’s antics, still there was a wildness to her that Kiki adored. They all did.

  Victoria’s phone vibrated in her unnecessarily large purse, so it took her a while to fish around to find it. She was hoping that it was Trip - she had tried to reach him this morning, and wanted to check with him about the plans for the house party in Hobe Sound next weekend. She checked her missed calls. Nothing. Just an email from the Chapin School about an upcoming art show. She really needed to give them a different email address. She hated them clogging up her inbox.

  “Oh, that’s Trip,” she lied. “He wants me to stop by the office.” She fished out a couple of hundred dollar bills and tossed them on the table. “Sorry I have to run.”

  ###

  Victoria walked into her apartment in a foul mood. The meeting at the Met was a complete waste of time. Those women could spend all day debating what shade of lavender they should use for the napkins at the next Visiting Artists reception. She knew they were well-educated, yet believed that once they got married, every intelligent thought had evaporated from their perfectly highlighted heads. It was important to Trip that she was on this Board, nevertheless she found it to be insipid. Not that anyone could ever tell. Victoria was an excellent actress. They thought she was the most dedicated person in the room. No matter what room she was in.r />
  All she wanted to do now was to get changed, wash up and get ready to meet Trip at six. She shed her daytime clothing like a snake as she walked across her room. Just thinking about her next outfit brightened her mood. She had a new Marchesa dress that she was dying to wear. On most people it would be a bit over the top for drinks, Victoria was able to carry it in such a way that it just made everyone else who was in the room feel underdressed.

  For the second time that day, Lumi knocked on the door, this time more assertively than the last. “Mrs.” she almost shouted.

  “Lumi, please!” Victoria didn’t even turn around. Couldn’t the help leave her alone for more than five minutes? “Whatever it is, it can wait.”

  “Mrs.- I’m so sorry, but Pieter --”

  Victoria hated it when they got a new elevator man. It took forever to break one in. Manuel had been there for ages, but finally got deported. Too bad, he was excellent.

  “-- he said that there are men to see you,” Lumi continued.

  “Men?” Maybe it was a business associate of Trip’s. Some men were so clueless about common social etiquette. One didn’t just ‘drop in’ in this neighborhood. Victoria sighed and reached for the phone. “They’re in the lobby?”

  “No, Mrs., Pieter brought them up. They’re here,” Lumi steeled herself for the rebuke she knew was coming.

  “In my apartment?” Lumi nodded. “Why in the hell would Pieter let some strange men into my apartment? Or you Lumi? You know better.”

  “Mrs.--” Lumi was near tears. “They have guns.”

  Chapter 2

  Victoria arrived at her front door clad in her Frette bathrobe and a fierce annoyance. Technically, it wasn’t her front door, as the elevator opened directly into her apartment. The three men who stood in front of her looked completely out of place. Two of them had on nylon Members Only jackets over tan pants, which Victoria correctly assumed were Dockers. Black leatherette tennis shoes and white collared shirts - she guessed short sleeved - completed their ensembles. The third man, who Victoria figured had to be their leader, only because he had escaped Members Only Hell and was wearing a khaki trench coat. Not Burberry. She checked.