Mike Offit: Nothing Personal: A Novel of Wall Street

“I think so. Do you really think she was cheating on him? I’d hate to think he dumped her for no reason. She seemed to be a little pissed at him when we ran into her the other day.” Sam brushed the hair out of her face. “I mean, the last guy I trusted basically destroyed me emotionally and financially. I don’t want to go through that again.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. She always had a couple of guys on the line in high school. In college, she dated half the football team—actually led most of them on. Guys literally used to fight over her. I think she’s actually pissed off that she got caught. Now, she doesn’t have a fallback if the other guy, whoever he is, doesn’t work out.”

“Your sister sounds like a real sweetheart.” Sam couldn’t help but notice the undercurrent of disapproval in Karen’s voice.

“Well, let’s just say that she deserves whatever she gets. Years ago, I was dating a great guy. He was on the UN staff, from Rhodesia. Great looking, from a wealthy family, and with his heart in the right place. He spent three years working against apartheid in South Africa, even though he kept getting death threats. It was like living with Gandhi, but he looked like Dirk Bogarde and drove an Aston Martin. Larisa met him when she came to visit me in New York right before I went to Geneva. I was working one weekend, and he takes her out to dinner because I had to help prepare a speech for the Ambassador. She gets him drunk and takes him back to his apartment and sleeps with him. Of course, Mr. Saint has to tell me about it because he feels so guilty.”

“Gee. Sleeping with your sister’s boyfriend is definitely not too cool.”

“Yeah. And once I knew about it, what am I supposed to do? He said they got back to the apartment and she started crawling all over him, and after all, he’s a man, and she was this nubile little teenager. She always had those big boobs, too. She got them for both of us. I mean, it isn’t like you can continue a relationship with a man who has slept with your sister. So, that ended it, and she apologized and everything, but I know she still kept seeing him. He was in an ambush in Soweto last year and lost a leg. So he suffered, but not old Larisa. We had a tragedy in our family when we were kids, and Larisa has always thought my parents blamed her. Somehow she managed to turn my brother’s death into being about her .” Karen’s words came out in a torrent, and Sam could hear the pain and bile just behind them.

“Jeez. I had no idea,” Sam responded. “Warren said that he didn’t think you’d come to dinner because you were angry at him over what happened with Larisa. I guess he was misinformed.”

“I wasn’t going to come because I was worried that I’d have to sit around and defend my sister. Warren’s a great guy, and Frank thinks Larisa really screwed him over. I’m tired of doing that. She gets what she wants when she wants it and thinks five moves ahead. She thinks that what happened to our brother gives her a pass for any kind of behavior. So I decided that I wanted to meet you. All Frank ever talks about is how pretty you are, and I wanted to see for myself so I could tell Larisa how Warren’s got a gorgeous new girlfriend, and they’re so happy together. I know she’ll call for the details. And I’m going to give ’em to her, in spades. She hates losing.”

“I don’t think it was a competition, but thanks anyway.” Sam smiled at the compliment, and they walked on quietly for a block. Warren and Frank had stepped up their pace and caught them at the corner of Seventy-second Street, in front of the Ralph Lauren store that had opened in a huge French neo-Renaissance mansion.

“I’ve had enough. Let’s take the car, okay?” Warren was feeling a little woozy from the wine, beef, and cigars, even in the bracing air.

“You guys go ahead. We’ll make it on foot from here.” Frank’s apartment was four blocks away, on Seventy-fifth off Park.

“Okay. Hey, it was great to get out with you two. You set an example for us. Young love and all that. At your age, Frank, infatuation takes the years off.” Warren gave him a playful shove.

“Well, you’re hardly the one to talk. Sam, it was absolutely our pleasure. You make sure he gets tucked in early so he can sell lots of bonds bright and early tomorrow. The fate of the free world hangs in the balance.”

“In that case,” Sam said, “the free world better have a contingency plan.” She accepted Frank’s hug, and a kiss on the cheek from Karen. “That really is one hell of a coat,” Sam said to Karen as they separated.

“Thanks. You two be good, now. Oh, and let us know where you’re going to register, would you?” Karen gave Warren a big hug and whispered in his ear, “She’s great. Larisa never should have let you get away.”

Warren waved at them as they walked off, arm in arm, and when he turned, Sam was holding the door of the car open for him. “All this time, and I’m still holding doors for you,” she said. He half tackled her into the backseat and mumbled the address to the driver, asking him to take the park drive, then burrowed into the nape of her neck.

“I say Tiffany and Christofle.” Warren gave her a light kiss on the lips.

“What?” The taxi had entered Central Park on Seventy-second Street and Fifth Avenue, and the light covering of snow that had fallen a few days before made the lampposts into pools of soft light in a sea of white.

“I said I think that Tiffany for china and Christofle for silver would be timeless, yet sophisticated choices.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“If you even want to go through all that. Personally, I’d rather just do the deed and buy our own stuff. I don’t have that many friends, anyway.”

“Excuse me, but did I miss something here?” The driver had merged to the left and was coming up the slight rise to the Bethesda Fountain.

“Say, driver, would you do me a favor?” Warren leaned into the front seat. “Just pull over on the right up here for one second. I just want to show my girlfriend the view up here. She’s from out of town.”

“Yeah, okay, but hurry up. The park’s not safe at night, and I don’t wanna hang around too long.”

“What’s going on? Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?” Sam looked a little apprehensive.

“There’s this great view right up here, by the balustrade over there. It’s amazing at night, with the ice and the snow.” He opened the door as the car stopped. “Just for a second. Nobody’ll be out in this cold. We’re safe.”

At the top of the hill, a wide, brick esplanade led to two immense stone staircases that descended to a large, circular piazza. The Bethesda Fountain was a Victorian landmark, with a soaring statue of a winged female figure. Although the water had been drained for the winter, it was illuminated by floodlights, and from the balustrade between the staircases, a sweeping view of the lagoon, iced over, but reflecting the towers of Central Park West, unfolded, a peaceful and private vista on a deserted winter night.

“This is pretty,” Sam said as they leaned on the stone railing for a moment.

“Yes, it’s beautiful. This was my favorite spot in the whole city as a kid.” The tension in Warren’s voice made her turn to him. He kissed her fully and held her against him for a long moment. “I love you, Sam.”

She could see the emotion in his eyes, and she stroked the side of his face. “I love you too,” she said simply. They stood like that for a moment.

“There’s something I need to tell you. It’s important.” He took the hand that was on his neck and kissed it.

“What? Tell me.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and drew his other hand out of his coat pocket. In it was a ring, a platinum band with diamonds set in a pattern of steps, which he pressed into her palm. “I want you to marry me. I want to marry you. I love you more than anyone I have ever known, and I don’t want to wait until someone or something comes between us.” He stopped and saw the reaction on her face. There was some surprise, but he could see the tears come up in her eyes.