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Liz stares at me blank-faced as the pieces connect. “You’re not serious,” she says.
“Wasn’t my first choice either,” I say. “I could be stretched out in the clouds with a glass of champagne right now. But the planes aren’t flying and Mother’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”
“I thought you’d have a— a train or something. Why aren’t we driving to Boston and flying out of there?”
“Checked into it already. All the diverted flights going toward New York are hitting the surrounding cities. Even private airfields are being used. This is just easier.”
“Is she upset? Your mother, I mean. She really wanted us there today.”
“Mother is always upset,” I say. “Though actually I think she likes the thought of us having to drive. Why the hell did you want to work for her again? I mean, I’m stuck there, but you had a choice.”
Liz chuckles. It’s a light sound and for a moment making her laugh, even if wryly, sends a thrill through my stomach. “Lots of people want to work for the Westing Bank. You shouldn’t take your position for granted because I personally know half a dozen people who’d kill you with a rusty spoon to take it.”
I snort. “Now you’re even starting to sound like Mother.”
“But to really answer your question, have you seen my office? The Westing Bank is probably the best financial institution on this side of the globe. Sloane Westing is a legend in the industry. And the fact that she came herself to offer me the job? It was a no-brainer.”
The awe in Liz’s voice when talking about Mother irritates me. I consider Liz intelligent and to hear her fawn over Mother like all the other drones reminds me that she’s just like the rest. Can’t she see how horrible Mother is? Or maybe she can and doesn’t care if it means a corner office and enough cash to smother a yak.
“So it’s worth her setting us up to fail in Chicago?” I say pointedly.
“I mean, it’s going to be tough, but I wouldn’t say it’s impossible. It’s actually kinda flattering that she trusts me to do this. And when I succeed, I’ll have a long career at the Westing Bank ahead of me. Assuming, of course, that—” Liz stops talking. I glance at her and she actually looks guilty.
I connect the pieces instantly. “Assuming I don’t run it into the ground when Mother retires?” I ask flatly.
“That’s not what I—”
“Look, don’t play pretend. I know what people say about me at the bank. I don’t care.” Unfortunately I can’t keep my tone from betraying otherwise.
“I misspoke,” Liz says softly. “I’m sorry.” She actually sounds genuine, but the damage is done.
“Don’t apologize,” I say. “On that subject actually I have some good news. You don’t have to try this weekend. Because this job isn’t about you or your worth. It’s about me. You’ll get to keep that big office and the paycheck because when — not if — when we fail I’m getting cut off.”
The news sits over us like a blanket of soggy snow. I can tell Liz is looking at me, but I refuse to take my eyes off the road.
“Rhett—” she starts.
I cut her off with a laugh. “But hey, that’s just more good news for you. Now you don’t have to worry about me ruining the company. Mother will find some other dead-eyed suit to take over. Assuming of course that she doesn’t torch the place herself on her way out. She’s always had trouble handing over her things. But whoever it is, it definitely won’t be me. Not that I ever wanted it anyway.”
The words kinda just tumble out of me. I’ve never really spoken to anyone about Mother or my place within the company. Granted, most of my friends are also trust-fund kids way more interested in getting fucked up than debating our futures. Is it because Mother invited Liz into our family drama by involving her with this weekend? Or is it because I don’t want her to worry — want to let her in on the reality that I’ve deduced from our little mission? That we’re not coming back with Marie Alencar’s account numbers and we were never supposed to. That this is Mother shedding herself of me at last.
It’s what I’ve always wanted, but now that the time has come, I’m finding it more bitter than sweet.
CHAPTER FIVE
LIZ
Pennsylvania is a long state. A very, very long state. I’ve never driven across it before, just flown over it, more or less happy and more or less comfortable in business class. It’s an island resort paradise compared to driving with Rhett.
The car has been floating in thick, gelatinous silence since Rhett’s announcement that this entire trip is basically just a scheme for Sloane to boot him out of the company.
The quiet has given me plenty of time to think. At first there’d been significant relief. Fantastic. Now I don’t have to actually pull this off. If Sloane thinks the job is impossible, then I can make a valiant effort in Chicago and return to New York not quite living up to my reputation but definitely not worse off for it.
But as we hit the mountains and the storm downgrades from violent blizzard to tiny flakes falling from a steel-gray sky, I twist the situation, look at it from a different angle. What if Rhett is just as clueless and self-absorbed as I think he is? What if Sloane actually wants him to succeed and she hooked him to me because she believes we can get it done? She doesn’t really need Rhett failing in Chicago to cut him off; he probably does something every other week that would warrant it. If I fail, she’ll be forced to follow through on her threat.
That wouldn’t reflect well on me, but it would be just as bad to choose wrong, to come home with the Alencar account and Rhett still solidly poised to take over as head of the bank.
By the time we hit the other side of the mountains, I have no idea what to think. Blow the mission or make it work? Prove my abilities or ensure that Rhett will never destroy the bank?
