Gabe led a complicated life. He had a high-pressure career, shady business dealings, two homes, a wife with health issues, a difficult daughter, and a string of mistresses. Until now, he’d kept all the balls in the air with finesse and aplomb. But everything was spinning out of control. Celeste could find out about his affair, find out who it was with, and she would hate him. His first and only real love would hate him. Violet would hate him more, hate him longer. She would lose all remnants of adoration, admiration, and respect when she found out her dad had cheated on her mom with Violet’s own girlfriend. She would never speak to him again. Their community would find out and turn on him. He would be alone, a pervert, a monster, a laughingstock.

When that obsessed paralegal had shown up on his Sagaponack doorstep, he’d considered hiring someone to get rid of her, permanently. There were professionals who could make it look like a break-in, or a random mugging gone wrong, make sure it would never be traced back to him. He knew people, men who made problems go away. Like that kid, Cole Doberinsky. The boy had been beaten and traumatized, and he had disappeared. But it would take more than that to get rid of Natalie. If Gabe asked, and if he paid, he could have his sugar baby erased. All it would take was a phone call.

He had to do it. He had no choice. Digging in his glove box, he found a napkin and wiped the tears from his face, blew his nose into the crisp paper. With trembling hands, he placed the call.

40

Double Vodka Cranberry

It was 8:30 P.M. when Nat finally arrived in Midtown. A passenger had been sick on the bus, necessitating an unscheduled stop and an ad hoc cleaning crew, turning the two-and-a-half-hour journey into almost four. She was walking toward the subway that would take her back downtown to Chelsea, when she decided to go for a drink. The events of the day had taken a toll, and she needed to relax. And going back to her empty apartment was not appealing. She knew she looked a mess, but there were plenty of venues that would be indifferent to her bedraggled appearance. She located one quickly and found a seat at the bar.

The bartender inspected her ID, then asked, “What can I get you?”

“Double vodka and cranberry,” she said, a nod to the day’s events. There had been about a teaspoon of vodka in that punch. Violet’s mom had tricked those silly kids into thinking they were having a boozy party. Nat had had five glasses at least and felt completely sober. Of course, she was a more seasoned drinker than a bunch of high school kids. Maybe Violet and her friends had gotten a buzz? Perhaps that’s why Violet had been brave enough to kiss her?

She reflected on the intimate moment in Violet’s bedroom. The girl’s lips had been so soft, gentle, tentative. Before today, Nat had not been attracted to girls, and she still wasn’t. But she was attracted to Violet. The girl was vulnerable, beautiful, and sexy. And she was Gabe’s daughter.