Madeline watched Chase cross the street with some purpose and glanced around.  It appeared to be Chase and he seemed to be fixated on some red head.  That would just not do.  She frowned, her MAC pink lacquered lips tilting ever so slightly at the ends so not to get wrinkles.  That auburn heifer almost looked like Antoinette, but perhaps it wasn’t Chase or Antoinette.  She had been coming out of a charming little French boutique, shopping bag in hand, when she noticed him turn the corner.  No, she would have recognized the tailored cut of his business suit anywhere, but his dark chocolate brown glistening hair just made him stand out that much more.  She smiled faintly at the handsome figure he made, but where was he going?  He was supposed to be going back to his office in the Seagram’s building so she could surprise him with the nice snake skin wallet she bought for him.  She hated that office, but knew he would be moving on to better things shortly.  His secretary said he had a late lunch meeting and then he might be back later – Chase had confirmed the same thing over the phone as he had left the office.  She could hear him say good afternoon to the help and then to his business associate.  He was supposed to be there so he could be impressed with her thoughtful and sincere purchase and they could go out to the ballet.  She would have to convince him that it had been his idea, of course.  He didn’t like for her to tax herself with too many thoughts because he knew it gave her headaches, and he dearly loved to spoil her.  Her bottom lip protruded in a practiced pout.  A man walking in the street stopped for a moment to check on her, but she sneered and waved him off.

Chase’s office was in the other direction from the St. Regis Hotel.  He was messing up all her plans for wearing a new dress to the Met so that she could be seen in a BR original design.  It had been bought directly off the runway so that no one else could have one and she could show it off before a version of the brand new design ever hit stores.  Didn’t he understand she had an image to uphold?  How was she supposed to be fashionable in the flirty black Halas butterfly lace and ribbon concoction that had been described as a cross between a debutant gown and a mermaid sheath, if Chase didn’t take her out?  She considered stomping down the street after him, but decided to wait and see what he would do.  Besides, she didn’t want to have to walk very far in her new high heels – she might scuff them up on these dirty sheets and scuffed patent leather was never in.  If she did mess them up, Chase would just have to buy her a new pair, since this was all his fault.  Perhaps he and Antoinette, whom Madeline was more and more convinced was leading Chase, would talk and then he would go back to where he belonged.  Madeline’s face screwed up into an unsightly grimace – not very likely.  She took a couple of steps toward the hotel.  If she called him, he would probably mumble something about a business meeting and make some excuse to get her off the phone.  Or worse, he would forward his calls to that mousey little secretary of his and she would make fun of Madeline behind her back.  Madeline could tell that the stupid little girl didn’t think much of her and probably laughed about her behind her back all the time, but it didn’t matter, because Madeline knew Chase would never leave her and they would be more famous and rich than the ugly little bookworm could ever dream of.  Then who would be laughing?  She would be laughing all the way to the bank in her limousine.  Madeline gave a little laugh out loud and hefted her purse higher on her shoulder.  If she never had to talk to her again, it would be too soon.  After all, she was the hired help – no different from Madeline’s dog walker.  Why couldn’t she just do what Madeline said and answer her questions without all the cocky attitude and get over it?  If she wanted a letter of recommendation from Chase, she would have to learn where her little sniveling place was.

But, Madeline didn’t want to think about that jealous little heathen right now.  She wanted to know why ‘Little Miss Save-the-World’ was in New York messing up her plans and why her rich, all too easily corrupted, fiancée was following her.  Antoinette was always messing up her plans.  Once upon a time, she had been friends with Antoinette, but that had been before she decided she was too good for Madeline and Chase and left poor Chase broken hearted in Charleston.  Madeline had been there for every second and helped him get over ‘Toni Duke,’ while realizing Chase could make her big lifestyle dreams a reality.  She had helped him move out of that old town and into the busy modern world of Manhattan.  Besides, the shopping had been far too out of date in South Carolina for Madeline.  Being a debutante was nice, but being a socialite was much better. It hadn’t taken very long for Chase to get into a business of his own.  He was, after all, smart and very talented, and he had just enough ambition to make it happen.  Now, he owned his own company with powerful partners and was rich enough to start thinking about politics.  She would make a great politician’s wife, and with just the right hints, Chase believed it too.  She was beautiful and poised – all the beauty show judges had told her so, and maybe someday, she could be a First Lady.  The President’s wife always looked classy and smart, and she had people to cook for her, and dress her, and everything she didn’t want to do.  It was like being a Barbie.  Madeline had adored her Barbies – they had everything: cars, clothing, mansions, and a million people looking up to them, but never seemed to do much of anything.  She shook her head full of fat, bleach blonde ringlets with the dark low lights and posed for a second, checking her reflection in a restaurant window.  Having everything would be wonderful.

Madeline had always dreamed of being famous.  She loved being adored in the cities she was in but if she could be adored all over the country, that would be even better, and fame often came with more money.  Of course, she already had the rich part down, and thanks to her mother’s shrewd sense of dying rich men, she would have rich for the rest of her life, But, if she could be rich, famous, and look smart, well that would be even better.  But first, Chase had to stop putting it off and decide on a wedding date.  She wasn’t completely oblivious.  She knew he had tried to break up with her more than once – but it wasn’t going to happen.  She had worked too hard to stop when she was so close to getting exactly what she wanted.  If he wanted a divorce later, that would be fine.  She would have her half of his money and the publicity of being a senator’s ex-wife then, she would be able to stay in New York like those stupid women on the television and entertain in high society while she looked for her next victim – Oh, husband, of course.  Madeline smiled as she walked a few more steps toward the St. Regis Hotel.

After all, she thought, Chase had to become a senator or representative – or something equally high up, because you can’t run for President without clout and one of those positions.  Otherwise no one would know who you were, and you would be a joke running. Madeline dearly hated to be made fun of.  Wait, the St Regis?  Wasn’t that where the BR representative had said her dress would be delivered from after the show?  Madeline paused and pulled the card with the directions and address out of her handbag.  The designer was staying at the St. Regis hotel.  Maybe that wasn’t Antoinette and it was just a coincidence that Chase seemed to be following her.  Maybe he was going to surprise her with something from her favorite designer.  He could after all find out where to meet them.  Madeline’s confidence grew a little as she walked a few more steps toward the front of the hotel.  She could casually bump into Chase and surprise him there.  If he was going to buy her something, the least she could do was pick it out and make sure it was the one she wanted.

Something niggled in the back of her mind that said he wasn’t going to see the designer for her, but she ignored it.  Chase was firmly tucked into the pocket of her favorite Louis Vuitton handbag, and he wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.  He would just have to learn to deal with that little fact and every teensy little ounce of her that came with it.  Chase was to be a kept man.  No more jetting half-way across the world for some supposed business meeting and leaving her behind for a month.  No more rushing to mom’s side in Charleston and Greece and leaving her in New York where it’s snowing or worse, sweltering hot.  She stamped the toe of her Louboutin bootie and scowled, forgetting her mission momentarily.  She was putting her expensively clothed foot down – no more!  She reached in her bag for her cell.  She was going to call him and ask him point blank what he was doing.  If he lied, she would never let him hear the end of it, because she would have him red-handed.  She would be able to march through the doors, because she could say she was picking up her dress, and she would be able to be surprised and offended and he would have to beg and plead for her forgiveness.  She stopped in the middle of a crosswalk, oblivious to the honking horns of the cars that were trying to turn, and then continued her saunter across the street.  But what if he didn’t?  What if he wasn’t sorry and didn’t care that he had hurt her feelings?  Madeline shook the thought away and carefully fixed one of her curls.  This was Chase.  He wouldn’t want to hurt her pretty little gentle feelings – even for Antoinette.  He would be sorry and then want them all to sit down and talk.  But, Madeline decided, she would only do it if he would take her up to get the dress and introduce her to the designer and buy her another one.  Or better yet, commission the designer to make one just for her – to show case all of her gorgeous assets.  That would be his punishment.  Smiling once again to herself, Madeline dialed the digits to his cell number.

Chase smiled as he pushed his chair back from the table and rose to his feet.  He extended his right hand toward the other gentleman rising from the table.  Luiso Amerretti shook it firmly and slid his own chair away from the cleared dining table.  The elder gentleman continued to exclaim about Chase’s new import plans and the few designs for cruise liners that had been laid out before him.  Chase had definitely found a new client.  He smiled as he gathered up the last of his papers and organized them into his soft leather briefcase.  Chase measured out and dropped a few large bills on the table for the slight built waitress, who unfortunately had held a good portion of Mr. Amerretti’s attention throughout the simple, but fabulous meal.  The aging Italian male definitely had an eye for the ladies, unluckily for the ladies, it wasn’t all he had for them, and the ladies in question usually didn’t have an eye for him.  Their waitress had smiled and dealt with the old man’s rather flamboyant and unwanted attentions mostly because she recognized Chase and knew it would be worth her while to make his client happy throughout the meal.  She had managed to skirt his wandering beefy hands quite nicely, while making it seem like she didn’t mind the attention, and for that, Chase left her a very tidy sum.

“Ah – I was hoping to see our waitress again and thank her for such a wonderful service.”  Luiso Amerretti drawled, one or two too many glasses of sweet liquor weighing on his tongue, slurring his words into an almost unrecognizable leer.  Chase almost laughed.  For this true-Italian to become so inebriated on just a few glasses of the Romana Black Sambuca was just the icing on the cake of the hilarity of the meeting.  He could easily tell that the man had mafia ties – although, not a close connections – but he attempted to hide them from the minute he had opened his mouth.  Chase half expected him to check the bottom of their table for a wire tap before ordering his food.  The gentleman, to use a term loosely, had wavered from confident to overly cautious and back every couple of minutes.  Chase preferred not to have any dealings with the mob in the city, but his research had shown these construction projects and material imports would have nothing to do with the mob’s regular businesses.  This was Luiso’s movement into securing his own future, should some of his connections turn south.

“Tamary has just left for break, sir.”  The busboy informed him as Chase fought to steer him toward the main dining hall and the exit.  Around them, the crystal features of the Bear Lounge twinkled.  Chase had to pause so that Luiso wouldn’t run him into the enlarged crystal bear juggling gold balls.  He could also see Tamary peak her dark head from the kitchen doors waiting for them to leave so she could attend her other guests.  Chase chuckled to himself and made sure to guide the man away from another young waitress on their way past the maître d’ and out of the gilded front doors.

As they reached the street, Chase crossed his fingers that the man hadn’t driven.  He watched as a young valet signaled a very professional-looking man standing nearby, who headed for the garage.  The valet then approached Chase to quietly inform him that Mr. Amerretti’s driver would be around shortly, Luiso running on rapid pace about the excellent hostess.  Chase knew from experience that the driver was a no-nonsense type that kept Mr. Amerretti well under his wife’s supervision, even when the buxom young Roman woman wasn’t around.  He gave a little sigh of relief and related the message to his guest, who had changed tactics and was now quite obviously extolling the virtues of his youngest daughter.  How he had turned to the prominent features of his family, Chase wasn’t sure, but he nodded appropriately anyway.  He had briefly met the wife once, but had never had the pleasure, or perhaps misfortune of meeting Luiso’s three glorious daughters.  From what he could gather, Amerretti’s youngest was no more than 6 or 7 and already she was enrolled in the best schools with the best extra-curricular and hobbies – all set to be groomed just like every other rich child of their social class, spoiled with no sense of self or direction save the one given to them.  It harkened his thoughts back to his own spoiled fiancée and her inability to decide on anything further than which Prada shoes to buy next and if it should match or contrast her purse.  The ‘real housewives’ of this city had nothing on his darling Madeline.  It wasn’t that Chase didn’t like her, he just wondered how long it would be before he would be unable to stand anything and everything she currently held in esteem.

The driver pulled the town car around and Chase helped the aging Italian into the back seat, hoping this was the last time he would have to deal with the mob-related man directly.  If the gentleman liked his designs, that was fine, but Chase was very clear about maintaining a serious and distinct distance with any of their under the table shipments.  Waving off the driver, Chase turned and headed toward the Paris Theater, deciding to drop by the Apple Store on 5^th avenue on his way. He glanced at his watch to see if there was enough time to drop into one of the off Broadway productions nearby before heading back to the office to fill out some of the information on his meeting with Amerretti.  There wasn’t enough time to see a whole play, but he considered for a moment dropping in for the first act or two and catching a repeat later.  Paper work and meeting notes were his least favorite parts of the job, but he had learned early on to keep a detailed record of his meeting with clients and very precise notes on their like and dislikes, and even sometime snippets of conversation he remembered to use in future presentations to them.  It made men like Luiso Amerretti feel important that he could recall such details for them.  It would be better to document it now while it was still fresh in his memory.  He had a feeling he wouldn’t need too much for this particular client – anything that had to do with handsome women would catch Luiso’s attention, but the rest of his board of directors would be a little more difficult to impress.  As it currently stood, Ammerretti was in his pocket, but he was also a very shrewd business man and one false move would blow his whole month of work on this outline.

Whistling a non-descript tune, Chase wandered aimlessly to the end of the block, reluctant to return to the 35^th floor of his building just yet.  The Seagram’s building was somewhat of a wonder, but some days, Chase much preferred being on the outside of the building admiring the architectural beauty.  He had to marvel at the designer, who had changed the blinds so they could only open in three positions, keeping the place as a whole in balance instead of some hanging crooked or completely at different angles.  Something inside told him to head toward 5^th avenue before heading uptown, as he passed across the Avenue of the Americas at 6^th instead of turning.  Chase knew that Antoinette’s parents usually stayed at the St. Regis Hotel, so he altered his course to see if Mr. Ralston was available for a dinner meeting to discuss his new proposal.  Bridgette, Antoinette’s step-sister, had called him a few days prior to see if he would be available to come to her mini-line launch, but it was at the same time as a company function, and he wasn’t able to get out of it, even though he desperately wanted to. He had apologized profusely, only half mocking, and Bridgette had been disappointed, of course, but she had understood and had even let it slip that her father would be in town to see the show and for a few days after.  Chase knew Bridgette looked at him as a big brother, especially since they were often in the same town and her two older siblings weren’t around as much anymore.  He had thanked her for the information and promised to drop by and see them as soon as he could.  Mr. Ralston had mentioned that he had an important business proposition for him to look over, and Chase was never one to pass up a chance to squeak ahead even a tiny bit more.  Coming from Mr. Ralston, he could count on it to be safe and highly profitable.

Chase looked up to see the street sign for 5^th avenue nearing.  He wandered around a falafel stand and the smell of sauerkraut assaulted him, and he hoped it wouldn’t seep into his clothing.  He loved the taste, but getting the pungent aroma out of his suits was often hell on his dry-cleaners, who were constantly complaining when he returned for the jackets.  They were very nice people, and did fantastic work, but were a little too attached to his clothing.  He supposed it was because he saw them so often.  Chase waited for the ‘walk’ sign to illuminate the cross walk and very nearly collided with a woman coming from the other direction as he spotted a familiar figure crossing from the diagonal street corner.  He apologized in a half-daze and hurried across the street to try to catch up to the figure.  At first, he was sure his mind was playing tricks on him.  She should have been in Florida, not New York.  But, he was sure it was her.  She looked different though.  Not bad, but there was definitely something different.  Her hair was the same tarnished auburn and her figure looked mostly the same, still curvy in all the same places, but there was something more that Chase couldn’t quite put his finger on, and yet, it was still Antoinette.  He wasn’t sure why she was in Manhattan, since she could usually be found in her offices in Miami, or not in the country at all, but he had that feeling.  His chest tightened and his breathing got shallow.  It was her.  She must have flown into town to see her family, but Bridgette had been sure that she was not going to make it to the launch this year, since she had a launch of her new line of products to contend with at the same time.  Fall was always a busy time in the textiles industry, and Antoinette’s new lines of yarn would be shipping to stores, even though they had been decided months in advance.

Finally, he got close enough to be sure as he watched her smile at the doorman and turn into the St. Regis Hotel.  She had gained weight.  It was a rounded gain in her midsection that didn’t seem to affect her legs or her face, but she was heavier all the same.  She was even more beautiful than he remembered and her skin seemed to glow.  Chase wondered when that had happened.  Four months ago, she had been rounded and beautiful, but not like this.  He smiled briefly to himself.  He wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t still replayed every bare inch of her body in his mind daily.  Suddenly, Chase stopped and stared in disbelief as a few more puzzle pieces slid home.  A man walking too close behind him stepped on the back of his heel and cursed.  Chase apologized, but didn’t move.  He needed a few moments more to soak it all in.  There was absolutely no way – she was pregnant.

Antoinette paused as she stepped out of the tunnel and into the open air of the airport central terminal and walked down the checkered path toward baggage.  She hadn’t told anyone but her sister she was arriving, and she had made sure only to let her know as she boarded her plane, so there would be no time for Bridgette to organize anything to get into Queens and show up in time to pick her up.  She rolled her neck to loosen her muscles, her padded denim laptop case hanging limply off her shoulder.

“Me sinhoris.”  She murmured, slipping to one side of the walkway and into the comfortable Greek she had learned growing up from Mrs. Brighton.  Her other debutante skills and the French she had been force fed during her childhood drifted by the wayside, but the beautiful Greek words still rolled off her tongue like a security blanket against intruders.  Her own employees even knew her to slip into the purred language when irritated.  Chase’s mother had always been a guiding force for Toni, even though her own mother would have wished it much differently.  Analise Duke Ralston could never understand the attraction that the tanned, blunt, Greek woman had over her daughter. Antoinette had fawned over the woman, listening to her speak in her soft, lilting tones, and dreaming of one day being as radiant and confident as Venetia Brighton.  Venetia had travelled the world and sampled all it had to offer, including the men, before catching the eye of Jonathan Brighton Jr., J.J. to his closest friends, and moving from the quaint villa on Kythria to Charleston, all before the age of 35, not that she would tell her real age to anyone.

Toni stepped out of the shaded terminal into the bright light from the front doors of LaGuardia Airport and raised her hand to hail a taxi cab.  She wondered vaguely if Mrs. Brighton had changed in the last year.  It had been at least 3 or 4 years since Mr. Brighton had passed away, and the last time Toni had seen the Brighton family together had been at Mrs. Brighton’s annual get-together in Charleston the year before, a few days before her own family gathering.  With all the travelling both families did on a regular basis, throughout the year, it had felt good to be back in the comfortable cradling arms of South Carolina.

As a taxi pulled near to stop, Toni hefted her bag and debated whether or not to call her sister first, or to try her step-father’s cell phone.  She could get an extra bit of luck if her step-brother, Thomas Jr. was in town, but lately she had seen him so rarely, she really couldn’t count on it.  He was probably halfway around the world again, or at the very least tending to the ranch or business her step-father had left him in charge of just outside Fort Worth.  The young driver stepped out of the car and lifted the bag from Toni, storing it in the trunk and offering to take her computer as well.  She smiled and absentmindedly laid a hand on her stomach as he held the door for her.  She gave the young man her address and leaned back into the surprisingly clean seats.  He chatted amicably as they navigated the crowded streets down Grand Central and avoiding Queens Blvd in Woodside.  Toni relaxed, glad to be in the hands of an experienced driver, who clearly knew his way around the city. In about 20 minutes, he turned into the crowded streets near Antoinette’s favorite hotel.  While her mother and sisters preferred to stay at the St. Regis or the Plaza, Toni always called the Mandarin Oriental, which had a beautiful view of Central Park.  Most mornings, she went down for a job before a shower and starting her day.  Of course, presiding over her own company helped with not having to be awake really early.  Toni never really was a morning person.  She much prefer to wake up a little later and stay up a little later.  Some foreign tune began to jingle from her pocket as she stepped out of the cab and on to the slightly raised curb.  She smiled and paid the cab driver with a little more than the bill and tipped the bell hop as he ran for her sparse luggage.  The hotel itself was inside the Time Warner Center, but there were always a few bell hops on hand to help with the guests, especially returning ones that were known for their generosity.  She glanced down at the view screen of her cell:  Kaitlyn.  She flicked on the device as she followed the bell hop into the building and to the elevator lobby.

“My wonderful little sister, to what do I owe the honor of your call?”  Antoinette waited for her sister’s sarcastic response.  When it didn’t come, she glanced down at the antennae bar of her phone to check the reception in the lobby.  She hadn’t lost the signal, so her sister was being sneaky.

“Sorry, I’m here,” came her sister’s cultured voice from the other end of the line.  “I was waiting until everyone else cleared out since I gathered that you didn’t want them to know you were in town yet.”  Toni could hear a muffled clink of metal on the other end of the phone and assumed that her half-sibling was still at the fashion show on the East End.  It would be a small show this late in the year, but Kaitlyn would still be there for moral support of their other sister until Spring when her own show would hit the runway.  Toni listed as her sister spoke to someone else about a shirt and waited for the click of heels to die away.

“You assume correctly, Kates.  I was going to surprise them this evening at dinner.  Can I assume that you are staying with Mother at the St. Regis on East 55^th street?”  Toni waited for her sister’s ascent.  Kaitlyn responded with a suite number and what time they would be finished at the Metropolitan Opera House, her mother’s favorite. “Perfect.  It’s the usual, so I’ll be there shortly after.”  Toni paused, it would give her just enough time to pick up something light for a late lunch and possibly catch something off-Broadway before stretching her legs on the half-mile walk back toward her mother’s hotel.  Some days, she completely loved this city and all there was to do in an evening.  And, on the plus side, there were always enough things to keep you distracted from your real purpose in flying thirteen hundred miles to see a woman that you barely visited for the holidays.  She spoke a few minutes longer with Kaitlyn before her sister was called off to help undress another model.

Hanging up the phone with her sister, Antoinette took a minute to check her reservations at the desk on the 35^th floor of the building.  The older woman at the desk confirmed all of her room reservations before offering a dinner menu for the evening and handing her a key, welcoming her back to the Mandarin Oriental.  She smiled and followed a different bellhop back to the elevators.  She unlocked her room on the 50^th floor and sighed, marching straight across the rooms to fling open the curtains.  

“Just leave them anywhere.”  She murmured to the young boy as she returned to his side, slipping ten dollars in his hand and shooing him out the door.  He only drug his feet a moment before she was able to push the room door firmly shut behind him.  It only took a second more for her to brace the lock and hear the tumbler slide home before kicking her high heel shoes to the bed.  The rich cream carpet blended with the beautiful gold and chocolate hues of the room, leaving Toni feeling awash in jewels as she slipped off her fashionable tan bohemian skirt and let it slide to the floor.  Her green peasant blouse followed, leaving her only in a simple camisole and string bikini of the palest of greens.  Toni’s eyes lit up as she surveyed the skyline over Central Park and debated her clothing options for the evening.  If she really wanted to thwart her mother, she could slip her sweat pants and tee shirt on – both of which were Miami day wear, but not exactly Big Apple evening attire.  She smiled, trailing her fingers along the length of the floor to ceiling windows.  This was just what she needed right now: to feel on top of the world when hours ago, her own little slice of humanity felt like it was smothering her in a mess of her own making.  She supposed she should get dressed and find food before facing her mother, since it was, after all, closer to her mother’s home territory than it would ever be hers.  Still, she couldn’t pull herself away from the amber shades of the leaves below her.  The October sky lit up down town Manhattan in rose and ochre swirls against the silver and onyx reflections of the windows.  While the city below her bustled by in their angry determined ways, the air danced like royalty, whirling the leaves in their ballet and ignoring the simple people and their simple ways.

Antoinette sighed again, well aware she was making it an ugly habit.  She forced her mind from the thought and coerced herself to turn away from the glass and head for the bathroom.  She turned the faceted knobs in the glass shower stall and examined herself in the king-sized beveled edge mirror.  Her belly had begun to swell and it wouldn’t be long before she would have to find looser fitting clothes to accommodate the stretch of her baby bump.  Remarkably, she didn’t feel fat, just full.  Another month, and there would be no more hiding her secret at all.  She counted back on her fingers and wondered why she had waited so long to take the stupid test in the first place.  It was pride she supposed – Antoinette Duke would not be stupid enough to get pregnant on a summer fling with a guy she could barely stand.  And definitely not one that she had seen twice since high school when she had jetted off to a distant college and distant countries and left him, who had clearly fawned over her then, in a cloud of dust.

It didn’t matter anyway, she supposed.  Nearly 4 months after seeing him, she would have to call him up and act casual as she announced that she would bear him a child.  She supposed her mother, and perhaps his, would be overjoyed at the prospect of them getting together, but she would have to calmly tell them, in no uncertain words or terms, that it wasn’t going to happen.  Either way, her mother would be ecstatic that she was getting a baby that would have ties to the Brightons – she would not, on the other hand, be happy about the fact that she was becoming a grandmother at what she considered such a young age, nor that it was out of wed lock as Toni’s own birth had been.  But, she suspected that she would warm more and more to that idea the closer to the date they got.  She would just have to face the fire first.

Stepping into the shower and quickly bathing, she shut off the water and toweled off, returning to the bedroom.  She spared a glance for the clock on the dresser.  Toni shook open her bags and pulled a simple teal kimono style top with tiny pearl flowers on the sleeves out and laid it on the bed.  It was joined by a pair of fitted dark jeans that wouldn’t press too much weight on her midriff. She hated putting on a big fuss to get dressed, but her mother would expect her to at least be “presentable” in case they encountered any of her sisters’ fashion friends.  Perhaps she would take Kaitlyn and Bridgette shopping tomorrow to find some better fitted clothes for the next few months.  Either way, the next few days were going to be an adventure in patience, she thought, as she laced up her roman sandals and grabbed her bag – and she would need all the fortification she could get her hands on.

Word count:  2,080    Total count:  6,112    Words to go:  43,912

Chase Anthony Brighton stalked gracefully across the checkered tile lobby of his floor and paused to nod at his colleague as the other man stepped into his own office.  He gave a short wink to the shapely brunette receptionist doggedly following the old man, and she laughed in return, waving him back to his own business with a quick flip of her fingers.  She had no illusions about why she had been hired and given a quick promotion by ‘dear old Mr. Winstead’ and Chase had no illusions that she would be going anywhere anytime soon with her outrageous salary for such simple work.  Most of the time, she fetched coffee and made copies – when she wasn’t updating every file in the senile old man’s office to the computers for when he passed on.  Chase gave a half-smirk to his own secretary, a young and pretty, but homely looking graduate student from the local university.  She smiled serenely and ignored the look he had given her.  He could only surmise that she was hoping to get a letter of recommendation to a local design firm at the end of her tenure with him.  She was smart enough, and efficient enough, and Chase just didn’t have the heart to be able to break hers.  She had sorted and filed and typed all summer, and more than once, her organization skills had come in handy after Madeline had dug through his office and wrecked a presentation.  She would get a glowing letter, he guessed, even if she had to write it herself.  He leaned on the desk with an air of impatience and allowed her to pick through this morning’s messages in order of importance, or at least what she thought was most important.  When she began listing his meetings and consultations for the day, he noticed there was one more message note sheet under the color-coded schedule book.  Chase casually leaned over and fished it out; his secretary started slightly, but waited for his to read it calmly before glancing up at him in an obviously bored manner.  He had to give the girl respect for knowing he would have zoned out if she had given him this particular message first, and would have probably missed some of his meeting agenda by walking away – and she had the grace not to blush when caught as well.  That alone told him what she thought of his loud and often rude caller.

“Tell Mr. Ammeretti that our lunch meeting is still on, but we’re moving it to the Russian Tea room on West 57^th street.  I’m sure he can find it.  If Mr. Ralston calls, put him through.  It is very important that I speak with him as soon as possible to set up a meeting while he is in New York.”  Chase paused, working out the time table of his day in his head.  His schedule currently allowed for a two-hour meeting with Luiso Ammeretti for lunch and then at least a three, no better make that two, hours for an evening meeting with Thomas Ralston if he made it into town early enough.  That would be more of a family gathering than a meeting, so he wasn’t worried too much about being around Thomas’s family.  He, after all, still had to feign interest in whatever Madeline, his dear fiancée, had called for this time.  His secretary had scribbled urgent in quotation marks, but he could see from her eye roll, that it would probably be far from important.  Knowing Madeline, it would most likely be what color shoes she should buy at Saks to match that new dress, didn’t he remember the one?, or would he be such a dear and fetch her purchases from Neiman Marcus on his way to her apartment?  Chase’s lips lifted into a pleasant smile as he turned his mind away from Madeline and toward the thought of Thomas’s step-daughter.  She should be headed into town at least for a little while to catch her sister’s shows while she was still state-side.  Catching himself tromping down a road of regret, he addressed his secretary again.  

“If Madeline calls, tell her I’ll be out and about for the day, but she can always call my cell.  If she’s lost it again, give it to her yet again.”  Chase wondered at the patience of his secretary with his new fiancée.  “And try not to drop the call too many times this time.”  Poor Madeline was always losing things and a cell phone number, or better yet, her new cell phone was often the last thing on her poor little taxed mind.  If it didn’t pay for itself or keep her apprised of the latest society gossip, she just wasn’t interested.  The only time she could keep track of the damn little cricket was when it was attached to her head and she was trashing some poor girl who didn’t have the same designer fashion sense as Madeline’s witchy little friends.  He chuckled to himself as he lifted himself off the edge of his secretary’s desk and headed to his office.  If there was one thing right about that thought, it was that Madeline’s mind was taxed by very little.  She was quite often vapid, and not for the first time, Chase wondered why he had ever agreed to marry her in the first place.  It wasn’t as if his mother actually cared for her either.  In fact, Venetia Brighton downright despised the girl.  But, since his father’s passing, there was very little that Venetia actually cared for.

Chase supposed it was Thomas’s step-daughter’s fault that he was leg-shackled to Madeline.  Antoinette had been the one that introduced him to Madeline in the first place.  Back then, she was pretty and perky, but hadn’t seemed as money-hungry, or sometimes downright vicious, as she was now.  And then, Antoinette had left a crying Madeline on his doorstep while she jetted off to Malawi, or whatever developing country in who knows where.  The only thing Chase had been able to do to get the wailing debutante to shut up had been to kiss her, and then, he couldn’t get rid of her.  He had tried to break up with the poor girl twice in the last six years and the only thing that succeeded in doing was giving him a headache.  He supposed it could be worse.   She was decently pretty, with a good family line, and so airheaded that she would be able to smile and look pretty as he vied for the New York senate seat.  Chase knew better than anyone that the Senate seats were hard to secure if anyone tied to the mob opposed you, so he had taken extra care not to impinge on anyone’s known territory or business while building his own.  Albeit, Chase had also taken special precautions to make sure his business had no dealings with the mobs or any undercover operations.  Import and architecture in New York weren’t the easiest things to keep in clean operation, but at least he was a private and not public shipper, and his reputation in South Carolina had made it easier to hand-select his clientele.  Chase was also known for not taking any high profile cases as a rule of thumb, since he didn’t care to get wrapped up in anything deeper than Madeline’s hobbies.  These days, he could afford to be picky about his cargo, and demand a higher price because of it.

As he pushed the door closed behind him, Chase wondered how much work he could get done before Madeline would get bored with waiting and call him again.  He guessed that he had at least 30 minutes.  He could add another 30 minutes if his secretary feigned ignorance and hung up on her a couple of times before either forwarding the call, or giving Madeline his cell number for the tenth time.  He didn’t blame her, really.  He just wished he didn’t have to deal with the whining about her supposed incompetence it involved and then having to listen to the numerous ‘oh so obvious’ reasons why he should fire her and hire another secretary.  The last time, Chase had given the poor secretary a raise.  He usually just listened to her tirade until he broke down and mentioned hiring a secretary like Winstead and effectively launched her into another diatribe about how he was going to leave her for a secretary and how would that look in the Post?  Usually, chase couldn’t help but mumble “smart” under his breath at that point, attempting to cut her off by any means possible.  Chase paused in his musings and flipped on his computer.  He loaded his email and scanned through, noticing a new one from Mrs. Ralston, and surprisingly one from his mother as well.

Chase, against his better judgment, opened his mother’s note first and scanned the few lines.  He could imagine her ticking away at the keys, careful not to chip one of her manicured nails.  His mother had always been a beauty and nothing if not straight to the point, which is what his father had loved so much about her.  Lately, she had seemed to waste away in the looming two story mansion and it saddened Chase that she was so lost without his father.  However, the neatly worded missive about how she would be grateful if he would take an evening out of his busy schedule to make an appearance at the Ralston house for their annual neighborly get together in Charleston had him raising an eyebrow.  Such a flowery skip around her demand that he show up and ‘make the nice,’ as she often called it was almost enough to make him hit the reply button.  He supposed it was time to settle down and give his mother grandchildren to break her out of her downward slump.  He stayed his fingers over the mouse and looked at the date and time of the other feminine email in his inbox.  Since it was getting closer to that time of year, he assumed Mrs. Ralston’s email would have a similar invitation.  It would probably have a similar tone as well.  Antoinette’s mother had perfected the passive aggressive guilt trip.  Chase could remember being on the receiving end of her snide, yet perfectly proper requests more than once in the years he had spent at their summer home in Charleston.  He quirked his lips and scanned through the rest of the notices, marking several off as junk mail.  There was one from his lawyer, probably about the prenuptial agreement he was drafting, and one from his broker, definitely outlining their plans for the investments next quarter, and one from an address he didn’t recognize.  His security measures hadn’t filtered the document out as junk, and yet something made him want to delete the note anyway.  His pointer hovered over the link for a moment as he debated whether or not to open it.

Chase’s mind jerked back to the present with the ringing of his cell.  He dragged the device out of his pocket and scanned the identification as if he needed it with the obnoxious jingle coming from it:  Madeline.  He waited for a second while checking the time on his computer before sliding the phone open and answering.  He had just enough time to talk to her for a few moments before his noon meeting.  Chase made sure to make appropriate murmurs of consent at the contents of Madeline’s busy schedule as he gathered up his contract drafts and designs and filed them away in his briefcase.  She continued listing off her plans for the afternoon.  Mentally, Chase made a reminder to invite Madeline to stay at the Brighton house for the Christmas get-together with the Ralstons.  For some reason, the Brighton house and their holiday party with their neighbors triggered a thought of the email still sitting unopened in his inbox, but he could not place the cause.  It continued to weigh on his conscious, as he shut down the computer, but it would have to wait until later, he thought, as he clicked off the monitor and strolled out of his office, motioning to his secretary to lock up when she left.  He knew she would understand this to mean he would not be back for the afternoon.  Whatever or whoever it was, could definitely wait.

“Shit, damn . . .” A few more choice words poured out of Antoinette’s mouth, the pert arch of her cupid’s bow framing every crass syllable.  She shook the little plastic meter again and prayed for a new answer.  Adding a few more colorful phrases to her repertoire, she tossed the test into the trash bin beside her along with the other two identical meters from the day before.  It didn’t matter how many times she peed on a stupid little pale indicator stick, the mocking little blue plus sign appeared every time.  This new one had even been more condescending with a shiny blinking “positive” next to the indicator.  A baby would come now, it was just a matter of time, and she supposed, a great deal of effort.  With her mission in Romania done, she seemed to have more time than she needed on her hands these days.  Toni pulled herself onto the green marble countertop of her Miami home and folded her legs into her body.  When had this happened?  Hadn’t she been careful?  Counting back on the tips of her fingers, she stopped with a groan.  Kythria.  It could only have been Kythria.  No, they hadn’t been careful.  She hadn’t been thinking at all, much less careful.  Toni could kick herself.  She never should have been there in the first place, much less have gotten wrapped up in his mess.  She didn’t even want to think about him, and here she was, having his baby. Toni let out a weary sigh and turned her body to look at herself in the tiled bathroom mirror.  Her eyes looked hollowed out and grey, even to herself.

Out of habit, Toni pulled her inlaid lacquered cigarette case out of her khaki’s pocket and flared the end of one thin tube to life.  She took two long drags and leaned her head against the mirror with another exhaled sigh.  Drifting one leg down, she kicked her hand knit crimson swirled socks back and forth a few times, but didn’t notice them.  She seemed to be doing this a lot these days: sighing and staring out into space.  She blew out her smoke in a series of little rings just for amusement.  It didn’t work.  Mentally, Toni began ticking off the people she would have to call.  Her mother was on the top of the list, of course, but she might delay that headache by calling her step-father first and apprising him of the situation for support against the dragon lady.  Her step-father would understand and calmly help her work through the steps for care.  Her mother, on the other hand, would have a melt-down and scream and rally against her stupidity, before insisting Toni work everything out with the father-to-be in order to achieve the happily ever after she never had.  Or, she would give Toni that look and sigh, which simply meant ‘I can’t believe I birthed you and you still became as stupid as to fall into the same mistake. I am so disappointed with you.’  Her mother had perfected that passive aggressive speech and Toni had already been on the receiving in more times than she could count.  It didn’t matter that there wouldn’t be a ‘happily ever after’ with the father.  Toni wasn’t interested in that anyway.  Appearances were everything to her mother, even when Toni could care less what people saw or thought.  It didn’t matter that Toni’s own father had not cared for her mother’s appearance with a child and had gone out of his way to deny having a daughter.

She brought the cancer stick back up to her lips and frowned in disgust.  ‘Well, there goes that habit,’ she thought as she held the end under the tap and twisted the cold water on.  ‘One bad habit down, only a million more to go.’  She chewed on the edge of her thumb nail for a moment before making another silent decision.  Toni pushed her stocking feet to the floor and added another name to her list: the father.  She figured she would have to tell him eventually, and that would mean another confrontation with the high and mighty Mr. Brighton himself.  That was the last name on her list – after her sisters and the paternal grandmother, who would dote on her and love her, but would not insist she tell her son.  Or, maybe not.  Toni reasoned that she could keep this to herself at least a few months longer.  She had at least a month before she would start to show and another 5 or 6 more before she would hire a midwife and seclude herself at her parent’s island home to wait for the baby to be born.  That meant there was still plenty of time before he would even notice something was different.

Of course, she would still have to tell Madeline.  Not that Toni wanted to call her best friend, turned not speaking neighbor, but Chase’s fiancée did deserve to know that she would be a step-mother before they were even married.  She didn’t even know why she wasn’t speaking with Madeline anymore.  Ever since she had returned home from her tour of duty around Europe and Asia, the girl she had been inseparable from hadn’t given her anything more than a dirty look.  Toni flicked off the light in the bathroom and headed downstairs to the kitchen.  Her mother would be in Manhattan this time of year at her step-sister’s fashion show.  The question was, did she want to relay the joyous news to her over the phone, where she could zone out indefinitely, or did she want to give it in person where her sisters and step-father would be there to support her if her mother flew off the handle?

“Ouch!” Antoinette drew back her fingertip into her mouth as she got a light static shock from her light switch.  She glanced down at the offending socks again and made a mental note to call her office and purchase more yarn.  She could have her assistant make her purchases, but it would give her a chance to get out of the house and wander around a vendor’s shop for a while.  She would have plenty of down time to churn out more socks for the soldier’s overseas and at least a baby blanket for the hospital while working on items for her own baby.  Toni sighed again as she pulled out a half-loaf of honey whole wheat bread and slipped a slice into her toaster.  She rummaged around in the cabinet for a second and pulled down a jar of almond butter.  She shook it and made another mental jot to buy another jar from the farmer’s market.  Cursing under her breath, she added one more check box to call her doctor and ask about her medications and their effects on pregnancy.  She had stopped taking her birth control after the first missed cycle and had simple prayed that it was the stress of the new students and flights overseas.  She also supposed she needed to call her other doctors as well, but that could wait until after she spoke with her mother.  If nothing else, her mother, or Chase’s at the very least, would know what she needed to do.  This was all very new to her, but there was no doubt she would make it through just like everything else.

While she was mentally forming to-do lists, the toaster dinged and Toni picked out the piece, slathering a healthy amount of creamy almonds on the top.  Taking a bite of her toast, she picked up her cell off the stone counter top and pushed the buttons to her step-father, Thomas’s office number in Dallas.  He should still be in Dallas this week, before handing the reins back to her step-brother and heading to New York and South Carolina.  She slid onto a barstool and glanced at the clock.  The metallic hands clicked silently toward three o’clock.  If it was only three, which meant he would still be at work for another two hours his time before catching a plane to New York and her mother, so she could safely reach him.  It also meant that she had another two or more hours before he would talk to her mother, because he wouldn’t risk her mother’s ‘shoot the messenger’ personality by telling her over the phone.  If Toni was lucky, she would be able to convince him not to tell her mother at all, and she would be able to ease things over herself, in person.  Putting down her cell, she pushed the speaker button and laid her head against the cool stone island top.  She danced her fingers across the tile in an abstract ballet while counting the rings out loud.  Thomas’ secretary answered brightly, and Toni frowned, lifting her head to check that she had called his direct extension.  Her step-father always answered his own phone while in the office.  She calmly told the woman she was looking for her step-father, and was informed that he had taken an earlier flight and would not be back for some days, but she could leave a message if she so chose.  Toni thanked the woman and hung up, closing her phone and laid her head back against the counter.

“Damn, damn, and double damn!”  Toni muttered to herself and debated calling his cell phone.  She dialed through six digits before putting the phone back down.  She twisted her lops and snorted.  No, she would have to fly to Manhattan and do it all in person.  It was the only way she would have any support since if she knew her family, her step-father would not be alone from the moment he set down at La Guardia.  Marching out of the kitchen and into her office, she flopped down into her padded office chair and pulled up the travel site on her desktop, pausing in her clicking to call her secretary.

“Lucy, I want you to take messages and call me for anything important.”  She paused to let her secretary catch up since she hadn’t even allowed the woman to say hello.

“Yes, hello, Lucy.  It’s Toni.  I’m going to be out of town for the next week or so.”  She waited for an appropriate response and then went on, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she waited to find the right flight times.  “Just send me the specs on that new yarn to my phone, and I’ll test the samples when I get back, or I’ll send you an address.  “She surveyed the options on the screen and clicked off one.  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but I’m booking a hotel and flight to New York right now.  I’ll fill you in on everything when I get back.”  Toni stopped to read her computer screen and click for her hotel.  Her secretary listed off the office plans for the next week.  “Yes, yes, you and Kate can handle everything with testing and send me the address and I’ll meet with that new vendor.  I completely trust the two of you like it was your own baby.  Just send me the times and places and his number.  I’ll call him from the airport to set it all up.”  She pushed the print button and listened as her printer surged to life.  Toni let her secretary prattle on while she headed back up the stairs to her bedroom.  “No, that’s the only meeting I’m setting up.  I’ll need all the time I can get with my family.”  She paused. “Okay, I’ll be waiting, and Lucy?  Thank you.”  Antoinette clicked off her phone and pulled out her suitcase.  It was going to be a long day.

Total count:  1,962                      Total to go:  48,062