Walking down the street in Greenwich, it seemed as though she’d never left and never been there, all in one shifting moment. The long-gone family who had lived in that house on the water, built on air and theft—were they real? If nothing from her marriage rested on a foundation of truth, what did it say about her life, her experiences? Who was Phoebe if the entire narrative of her life were lies dusted with fool’s gold?
The closer she got to Le Penguin restaurant, the more determined she was to fight for Suzy Ramsland’s support. Suzy of the Ramsland Insurance–husband-money always showed a willingness to walk on the wilder side. The first time that Phoebe met her, at the long-ago Hair-themed fund-raiser, Suzy had crackled with seductive energy. More important, the Ramslands never invested with the Club, leading to Jake calling Suzy “that crazy cracker bitch.”
For years, Phoebe convinced people to invest in something she knew nothing about—why not try it with something she loved?
The restaurant was tucked on a side street. Inside the door, floor-length curtains blocked the entrance, keeping the October chill from the small room. Suzy, seated at a corner table, smiled and toasted Phoebe with a tall glass of pale-gold wine.
“So, here you are,” Suzy said as Phoebe took a seat. “The center of the most gossip Greenwich has seen since the McKennas and Coddingtons played switchies.”
“I imagine I rated a bit more conversation.”
“Don’t be so sure. Your dishonor had a lot less sex.” Suzy paused and wrinkled her face as much as Restylane and Botox allowed. “Barring that sleazy little mistress book, of course.”
“Which I’m certain sold well at Diane’s Books.”
“I’m afraid she couldn’t ignore the demand,” Suzy said. “But the library stopped short of bringing her to Greenwich for an author appearance. Out of respect.”
Phoebe laughed more fully than she’d ever expected to laugh again. “Thanks for meeting me. And in public, to boot.”
“Honey, you’ve done nothing wrong except marry a lying shark. If I stopped seeing every woman in that category, I’d be a lonely lady.” Suzy placed her hand on Phoebe’s wrist. “I’m so sorry about Noah. He was a beautiful boy and sweet as a ginger snap. What a hell of a scar you must be wearing on your heart.”
Phoebe blinked. “If I weren’t sitting across from you, I’d hug you so hard you’d break.”
“You’re the one who looks like she’ll shatter. You’ve always been thin, girl, but now you’re downright skinny.”
Suzy beckoned for the waiter. His swift arrival testified to the size of her tips—never a guarantee in this town. More than once, Phoebe spotted miserly gratuities left by megamillionaires.
“Mrs. Ramsland,” he said. “What can I get for you?”
“Bring Mrs. Pierce a glass of the Bordeaux and another for me.” Suzy emphasized Mrs. Pierce enough to force a stiff smile from the waiter toward Phoebe. “With truffle fries to soak it up while we peruse the menu. And thank you so much.”
He left. Suzy peered at her. “Happens a lot, that attitude, I bet.”
“Let’s say I’m not the prom queen anywhere.”
“Must be tough after a lifetime of being pretty and popular.”
Phoebe thought for a moment, dwelling on Suzy’s true words. Her path had always been smoothed by someone else’s efforts, whether her father or Jake. “Neither of those matters anymore.”
“Of course—it’s about Noah and wanting to keep Katie safe. Baby, that’s motherhood, and it never stops. Jesus, we’re only as happy as our unhappiest child. Truer words were never said. I understand. My sister lost her son. God sliced that loss right off her heart.”
The waiter slipped in front of them a steel cone lined with paper; the parchment absorbed oil from a generous serving of crispy fries.
“A mama’s station is always tuned to her child’s well-being, no matter how old. And losing a child”—Suzy shook her head—“well, you might as well die yourself. That’s what you think until your soul knits back together.”
“I don’t know if I deserve healing.”
“Hell, you didn’t kill the boy. Even Jake didn’t do that. I’m not gonna insult you with a bunch of God talk, but some of us are too fragile for the journey, and we gotta go home. I really believe that. You’re made of stiffer stuff, so you’re stuck with carrying on, pain and all.”
Phoebe bit into a fry, the salty flavor waking up taste buds deadened by a steady diet of Campbell’s soup and crackers. “I need something huge from you, Suzy. I won’t pretend that we were ever the closest of friends, but still I am asking you to share two of your greatest assets: your money and your name. Not personally, but to make a mark in this world.”
“Okay. I’m intrigued.”
Crossfires of murmurs bounced around the room. Phoebe had developed extraordinary hearing for the whispers. “Is that her? I’m sure it is. What a nerve!” Awareness of the Gap sweater she wore while surrounded by women wearing Brunello Cucinelli threatened to overcome her resolve.
Would she have been any more generous to a fallen friend than these former neighbors surrounding her? She scrutinized her ragged cuticles.
Worst-case scenario, Suzy said no. What the hell—Phoebe had already had so many doors slammed in her face, she’d barely feel Suzy’s rejection. “How’d you like to help some terrific women, partner with one of the oldest settlement houses in New York, and become part of a women-only entrepreneurship? How would you like to use those two things I mentioned—funds and connections—and be the female version of Newman’s Own?”
“Will it excuse me from the next ten charity balls?”
“A lifetime’s worth and more. I can guarantee meeting three wonderful women and one terrific man. The only charity balls you’ll attend will be the ones you decide to throw. Which you might, because you’re gonna love working with us so damned much.”
“Is it legal?” Suzy smiled to take the edge off her question.
“One hundred percent. You’ll probably never make a dime.”
“Better and better.”
“But there are a bunch of women who’ve never had enough. You may well guarantee them rising higher than they ever dared hope.”
“So what’s this golden opportunity for being a do-gooder?”
“How’d you like to buy the Cupcake Project?”
CHAPTER 39
Phoebe
After the meeting with Suzy Ramsland, Phoebe’s life veered. Her world would always be deeply damaged from Noah’s loss, but the hours of flagellating herself lessened more each month. She threw her heart into her family and her hours into work.