“Poppy was always asking questions,” Mason went on in a hollow voice. “She never believed Steven drowned. And then, not long after that, she found the same blip in the financials that Steven had. Only, when she asked about it, I told her the truth. She was family, after all—I knew I could trust her. Poppy wanted to come clean, though. She wouldn’t let it go.”
Aster let out a breath. That explained that threatening e-mail she’d found in Mason’s deleted files. Then she thought of something else. “So what was the deal with the stolen jewels?”
Mason twisted his mouth. “She found out the extent of the jewels that had been stolen and realized, like I did, that some of the old pieces were still in our collection. She tracked down their owners’ ancestors. And then she checked the jewels out of the vaults and returned them to the original owners without asking. Obviously, this raised all kinds of red flags with audit and security—they had no idea who those jewels belonged to or what Poppy was doing. She was trying to force my hand, make me come clean. But I managed to cover it up.”
Aster groaned. “Dad, why didn’t you just come clean?”
“I wanted to,” he said, and sighed. “But I wasn’t sure if the business could endure the blow.”
“So it was all about the business, then. That was more important to you than anything else.”
She met Mason’s gaze. He looked away guiltily. Without Aster’s mother in the town house, the place was oddly quiet—no classical music in the kitchen, no sounds of her voice as she talked on the phone. The place felt like a tomb.
She glanced at Dumbo, his trunk extended, his huge, bell-shaped ears fanned wide. All of a sudden she pitied her father. He’s a coward, she realized. And he had been, his whole life. All he did was scurry around making excuses and covering things up. Transferring money to cover up old family sins, supporting illegitimate children, supporting Aster’s partying lifestyle for years to keep her from telling her mom about Danielle. If that elephant had actually charged Mason, he would have run screaming.
“You used to be my hero,” she said softly, feeling tears come to her eyes.
Mason’s chin wobbled. “I loved when you thought that.”
She felt tears run down her cheeks. “I’m sorry I turned you in, Dad.”
And with that, Mason rose from his chair. Aster stared at him through blurred tears as he walked toward her and knelt down. His skin smelled like sleep. “Aster,” he said firmly. “You did the right thing.”
As he wrapped his arms around her, a sob rose in her chest. He wasn’t supposed to be hugging her right now, and she wasn’t supposed to hug back.
And yet she couldn’t hate him. Even after all this, he was her father.
Then Mason pulled back and looked at her. “The mistakes I’ve made are mine to pay for, and I can’t fix that now. But what can I do to fix . . . you? What do you want? You can stop working at Saybrook’s. You can go back to your old life.”
Aster blinked. “Just like that?”
She stared out the window at the building tops across the street and considered the prospect of no longer working. Waking up at noon, scanning Twitter and the party blogs to see what was happening that night. Taking off for weekends to far-flung islands to booze it up and dance all night and talk about nothing.
It all felt oddly far away. She hadn’t gone out in weeks. Clarissa hadn’t called. Though Aster was still on a group text that got sent around every early evening, throwing out hot spots for the night and gossiping about people they knew, her other party friends hadn’t asked how she was, either. Thinking about it, what did she really miss? The thrill? This month had been full of enough thrills to last a lifetime. And it was clear her friends didn’t miss her. The city was full of fabulous socialites, after all—and heiresses who’d foot the bill.
“You know, I don’t know if I even want my old life.” And as soon as she said it, she realized it was true. “I’m keeping my job,” she said firmly.
Her father cocked his head. “Well. Good for you.”
“But actually. There is something you can do.” Aster stared at him closely. “I want Danielle to be part of our family. For real.”
Panic flickered across Mason’s face. He swallowed hard. “Do you mean . . .”
“I mean making her feel like she’s one of us. You’re her dad. And now she has no mom. I just think . . .” Aster closed her eyes. “I just think we should.”
Mason was quiet for a long time. “All right,” he finally said. “You do what you think is right.”