Her face filled with concern. “You weren’t right for each other. So why the sad face?”
I bit my lip in contemplation. “This is the first time I’ve seen him since he brought over my stuff. He looks happy.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Good. Now you can stop feeling guilty.”
I nodded.
I wished it was that easy.
She turned on her heels. “Come on, tonight’s the last night we’ll all be together for a long time.”
With a genuine smile forming on my lips, I shifted my eyes to find our friends. Jamie was lounging in a booth on the other side of the VIP section. The neon lights from the disco ball above the dance floor flickered all around him as he took a large gulp of his scotch, maybe trying to wash down the bad taste of the last foreclosure he had to make that put someone on the street.
Emmy was filming him with a video camera, probably wishing she could film the two of them together. When we were younger, she had aspirations of going to Hollywood and being an actress. She settled on home movie production for the time being and brought her video camera everywhere. Her parents held her trust fund over her head to keep her in New York. Soon though, when she turned thirty, she would have complete ownership and then, we were sure, she’d be gone.
Logan was in a deep discussion over in the corner of the bar, about what was anyone’s guess—he never discussed his job or his life. Although a good friend, I knew very little about him. He was the quiet, secretive one.
A lot like me.
But his reasons for remaining quiet were different from mine—mine were internal, the way I felt about myself and this world of ours. His were more external. He’d grown up in two very different worlds and I think he struggled with which one he belonged in.
Danny made me laugh. He was dancing with some guy I’d never seen before. Throwing his hands around like a rapper, more than likely mourning the loss of his freedom. Always the happy-go-lucky one in the group, he’d recently joined the ranks of the employed, sitting beside his father and learning the ropes of the gaming industry that had made his great-great-grandfather billions. Of all of us he had held out the longest. Went on sabbatical after grad school to find himself but when he came back he found himself all right, right beside his tycoon father being groomed to run the family-owned business.
These people gathered here tonight were like my family. We grew up together, went to the same parties, to the same schools, and once upon a time we all hated the life that having money brought. Those days were long over. We’d tried our best to hold on to them, but life took over and crushed those ideals. We had all decided further education was the quickest and easiest way to avoid the family binds that awaited us. Me, it wasn’t the business I was avoiding. I just didn’t care what path I took and where it led. But none of it had mattered because when we graduated, whether it was with an MBA, law degree, or other certification, the family calling was inevitable.
Lily Monroe, textile heiress, was learning the apparel business that had been started by her great-grandfather. She loved to shop, knew clothing well, what fashions worked and what didn’t. She would make a great figurehead for the House of Monroe someday, but running the company didn’t interest her. Her goals were all short-term. She had become the true socialite of the group and hated working more than any of us. Her passion was ballet and what she wanted more than anything was to be a ballerina. But a knee injury in her freshman year at Julliard changed all that, and as time passed, Lily’s dream had too. I prayed Lily would never have to take over the family business like I had, and so did she.
Logan McPherson was the grandson of a hedge fund manager and philanthropist worth an estimated twenty billion dollars. His grandfather was one of the wealthiest men in the city, but Logan never seemed to care and he never discussed money. He was an attorney who spent most of his time in Boston. I knew he was licensed in both states but wasn’t sure if he was practicing in either. No one knew much about his work.
Emmy Lane, publishing heiress, refused to learn what it would take to run a long list of publications owned by her family and because of her resistance, her parents were not on board with her plan to relocate to LA. She hadn’t gotten the big break she was waiting for but she still continued to audition for parts here in the city. Swan Publishing might have been her family legacy but her passion was acting and she still hoped someday she would be a star.
James Ashton, Harvard graduate and real estate heir, acquired his real estate license shortly after grad school and learned quickly how to wheel and deal with the bigwigs.
And Danny, poor Danny just recently settled into his destiny, marking day one of the rest of his life. Danny had choices though. His father was a gaming heir from very old money and his mother was of the European “fast set.” Her family had founded Fiat and led a glamorous life that included elaborate parties, streamlined yachts, fast cars, and luxurious villas. Although Fiat was no longer family owned, he could have joined the board. In the end, he opted for the gaming industry. Churchill Downs was where his training would begin and he’d be based in Kentucky for the next year. He had mixed emotions about leaving the city but since he’d been back and forth for the last two years, what was one more? Well, that’s what he said anyway.
And then there was me. Phoebe St. Claire—heiress to a hotel empire that was crumbling before my eyes.
My great-grandfather bought his first hotel at the height of the oil boom. His father disapproved of the investment but the hotel broke all records and soon my great-grandfather expanded throughout the country, adding hotel after hotel. Just before his death The Saint Corporation, known as TSC, expanded internationally to be the first international hotel chain promulgating a certain worldwide standard for hotel accommodations everywhere. Through the years, the international division was sold off, and under my father’s reign, all that remained were the US operations. As my father’s only child, I always knew I was next in line to run what was left of the hotel empire. It simply happened sooner than I thought. The circumstances only compounded the financial distress of the already vulnerable company.
With a whistle, Jamie held up a bottle of Piper-Heidsieck champagne. Danny and Logan headed toward him and Emmy without any further prompting. Together, Lily and I climbed the steps up to the booth.
Jamie stood and pulled me close to him. “You doing okay today?”
I put my finger to his lips. “We’ll talk later.”
“Dawson’s here.”
“I know,” I said, and glanced over my shoulder toward his table.
If Lily had always been my very best girlfriend, Jamie held the spot as my very best boyfriend. In fact, I think I was always more open with him than I was with Lily. We just had an ease between us.
“My man,” Jamie said turning to Danny. “How was your first day on the job?”
“Fucking sucked. But I expected worse.”
I turned around and hugged him. “Something tells me you loved it.”
Shoulders lifting he said, “I’ll let you know after a month in Kentucky when I’m not under my father’s watchful eye.”
“Phoebe, you made it,” Emmy greeted me with a hug and Logan joined in.
I purposefully moved myself to the other side of the booth so my back was to the center of the room. Nothing good would come of me staring at Dawson all night.
Once we all sat down, James passed glasses to each of us, and then raised his. “Today, we have gathered to mourn the loss of our youth. We were once young, wild, and free but all that remains now is for us to get even wilder. So let’s get fucking drunk.”
“Cheers,” we all said in unison as we clinked our glasses.
An hour later, and after too many bottles of champagne and wine, for what had to have been the twentieth time of the night, we brought our hands to the center of the table. The six of us shared a bond that could not be broken by anyone, and we all knew it. And this time, as our flutes clinked, we said together at the top of our lungs, “Friends forever,” and pressed our glasses to our forehead.