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Kevin's brothers greeted him with pleasant enough claps on the shoulder and then immediately took their father aside and started whispering to him, freezing Kevin out of the discussion. Kevin just smiled affably at their backs and made some comment to his mother about the turnout. She dipped her head an inch-a nod of agreement, Kathleen assumed. That done, Caro Porter retreated back to silence, smiling vaguely at some distant object while she clutched her champagne glass to her chest with one bony hand.
The fog in her dull blue eyes and her halting speech hinted at artificial sedation. Kathleen, who waved goodbye to Jackson Porter every day as he strode out of the office at noon, reeking of cologne and often tucking one of those small blue boxes into his breast pocket, had nothing but sympathy for Caro's choice to reject clarity.
After an hour or so of this standing around and drinking, someone flashed the lights in the room. None of the guests paid any attention to it. The lights flashed again. This time, there was a subde murmur throughout the crowd-which then went back to talking and drinking. A waiter refilled Kathleen's glass.
Then someone-hotel staff, Kathleen assumed-called out a personal appeal for people to move toward the dining room. He was ignored, but a little while after that a guest with a booming voice called out that they were already way behind schedule and wouldn't be out before midnight at this rate, and the threat of that finally got people moving.
When they reached their table, Kevin and Kathleen sat down, but Kevin's brothers waited, standing, until their father joined them, and then they maneuvered him into a seat between the two of them. Caro sat down on Kathleen's empty side and the two wives sat next to their husbands. Wine was poured and Caro raised her glass.
“To the poor children,” she said wearily, and they all drank.
Kathleen thought Caro meant her own kids for a second, and then realized that she was referring to the recipients of that evening's fund-raising efforts.
Kathleen had been to many social events in her life, but never one that reeked of wealth the way this one did. There were at least three waiters to every table and they were always hovering, refilling glasses and clearing and bringing plates. The room was decorated with wreaths of flowers and candles that cast a flattering warm glow and made the ropes of jewels on the women all around her sparkle brightly.
Cinderella was at the ball.
Fu
There was a steady stream of tuxedoed men paying their respects to Jackson all during di
Kathleen was surprised and a little a
Kevin had once said something to her about how his father admired Sam, and there seemed to be some truth to it: Jackson had risen to his feet and was listening intently to whatever Sam was saying. He nodded his head in agreement at the end. They did that guy thing of shaking hands while clapping each other's upper arm, and then Jackson gave him a little salute and sat back down between his older sons.
Sam greeted the rest of the family as he circled around the table, kissing the air close to all the women's cheeks and shaking all the men's hands. “Just wanted to say hello,” he said when he reached Kathleen and Kevin. He and Kevin shook hands. “Kathleen,” he said with a nod of greeting. Apparently she didn't rate an air kiss.
“Oh, right,” Kevin said, leaning back in his seat to include them both. “I forgot-you two already know each other. You're how we got Kathleen.”
“I’m how she came to work at Porter and Wachtell,” Sam said. “You got her all on your own, buddy.”
Kevin smiled.
Sam said, “You must be proud of your father this evening.” Kathleen was so used to his armchair insults that it was a surprise to realize he could actually be as polished as the next guy when he was out at a social function.
“I am,” Kevin said. “I absolutely am.”
Sam raised his hand. “Have fun, kids,” he said and walked away. He shook a couple more hands and cuffed a few more shoulders before returning to Table Eight, where he sat down next to a young woman with roughly cropped hair that was dyed a bright copper orange. The girl immediately leaned over and whispered in his ear.
Kathleen stared at them. She had been living under Sam's apartment for several months but had never once seen a female go in or out-and here he was at a major social event with a total babe.
A waiter placed a salad in front of her, blocking her view. She quickly devoured the small salad, and then noticed that none of the other women at her table had eaten theirs.
She felt Kevin's hand on her leg under the table and smiled at him. He turned and said, “Hey, Mom, did you know that Kathleen's a triplet and her two sisters are movie stars?”
“How nice,” Caro said, and raised her wineglass to her lips.
“Yeah,” Kevin said. “Christa and Kelly Winters. They're huge.”
“Really?” Caro said. “How interesting.”
From her other side, the sister-in-law in red said, “I’ve heard of them.”
“Have you?” Kathleen said.
“Yes. My little girl made me take her to one of their movies once.” One eyebrow was crooked derisively, daring Kathleen to ask her whether she liked it, but Kathleen knew better and was silent.
The waiters cleared the salad plates. Kathleen shifted restlessly in her seat. She looked over at Sam's table. He was saying something to the girl next to him. She tilted her head in consideration, and long, heavy earrings flashed at her neck. A few minutes later, Sam rose to his feet and moved across the room. He stopped at a table to talk to someone.
Kathleen pushed her own chair back abruptly. “I need to go to the ladies’ room,” she said.
“Do you know where it is?” Kevin said.
“I’ll find it.”
He rose as she stood up. He was polite that way.
She said, “Excuse me,” to the rest of the table, but no one seemed to notice.
She made her way across the room, and after Sam had finished chatting with the people at Table Twenty-seven, she darted forward and cut him off before he could go back to his own seat.
“Kathleen,” he said and gave her a quick up and down look. “Nice dress.”
“Why didn't you just tell me you were coming to this, you jerk?”
“You didn't ask. Are you having a good time?”
“It's okay. You let me go on and on this morning-”
“How much wine have you had?” he asked.
“I don't know. A glass or two.” Or three or four. “Why?”
“You look drunk. Your face is red.”
“Whatever,” she said. “You certainly look like you're enjoying yourself.”
“Do I?”
“Who's the girl at your table?”
“The girl?”
“Sitting next to you. With the bright orange hair-she's kind of hard to miss.”
“Oh, her. Beautiful, isn't she? She usually comes with me to these kinds of things. Takes pity on an old man.”
“What's her name?”
“Joa
She glared at him. “Why didn't you just say that in the first place?”
“And ruin your excitement? You were so sure you had discovered some hidden scandal in my life-ancient Sam with his little thing-on-the-side.”
“You're not married,” Kathleen said. “You can't have a thing-on-the-side.”