“Just let him run,” Madeleine said. “I’ll catch up with you.”
The two riders had reached the wide inlet of Stony Bay.
“Okay!” Alex winked at her friend. “Let’s go!”
The chestnut gelding suddenly rose up, which would have thrown an inexperienced rider out of the saddle. But Alex leaned forward and held on with her knees and thighs. The horse thundered along the beach with long, galloping strides and pricked ears, racing against the stormy wind and the seagulls. Faster, faster! She laughed happily. The wind drove tears into her eyes as she ducked behind the horse’s neck and enjoyed its magnificent, graceful strength.
Strolling on the dunes with a golden retriever, two early walkers watched her with faces aghast as she raced past them like an incarnate Valkyrie. She let the horse circle the entire width of Stony Bay before slowly reducing her speed and looking around. The two walkers had reached the beach, and Alex saw that Madeleine had stopped to talk to them. She let her horse gallop once again. Her ponytail had come loose during the wild gallop and her blonde hair was flowing in the icy December wind, just like the horse’s flaxen tail.
Madeleine waved at Alex. She slowed down the gelding a few yards ahead of them, and both of the walkers stepped back out of respect. Breathless, with reddened cheeks, she stopped her horse.
“Isn’t she an excellent rider?” Madeleine said to the couple. All three of them watched Alex with undisguised admiration as she calmed down the nervous horse.
“Yes, indeed,” the man said, “quite impressive.”
“Alex!” Madeleine called out. “Do you know Nick and Mary Kostidis?”
Alex turned her head, surprised. Sure enough, the man standing next to Madeleine’s horse was the mayor of New York. He looked completely different in his blue down jacket and jeans, but she immediately recognized those dark, burning eyes.
“Hello,” she said, smiling. “Yes, we’ve met once before.”
“Alex Sontheim,” Kostidis nodded, inspecting her closely, “at the Plaza. I remember.”
Alex remembered how disdainfully Sergio had spoken about this man and how much he hated him. He called him a fanatic, an idiot, the plague. While Madeleine and Mary Kostidis talked about the horses, she wondered what the mayor was doing at seven thirty on Christmas morning on a deserted beach at the tip of Long Island.
“Is Christopher with you at your sister’s place?” Madeleine asked the mayor’s wife.
“No,” she said and laughed. “He’s spending Christmas with his future in-laws in the Hudson Valley.”
Alex noticed that Kostidis watched her with steadfast eyes the entire time. She wasn’t sure why, but his searching, serious gaze disturbed and irritated her. If he knew who she was, then he would also know about her relationship with Sergio Vitali. Did she detect contempt in his stare? She tried to appear relaxed and indifferent. Madeleine and Mary were chatting, but Alex didn’t catch a single word of their conversation. Her eyes met those of Nick Kostidis. Their gazes interlocked for a few seconds. She felt a hot blush rising to her cheeks and turned away.
“We need to keep going, Maddy,” she said. “The horses are sweating. They’ll catch a cold.”
“Of course!” Madeleine made a guilty face. “I really lack horse sense sometimes!”
“Enjoy your ride!” Nick Kostidis called to them. “See you later!”
Madeleine smiled and waved. Alex cantered next to her without saying a word. Why did Kostidis look at her in such a strange way? The expression in his eyes was hard to read. He was probably saying to his wife at this second, “Did you see her? She’s Vitali’s lover. A gangster’s whore!” She hated to feel so insecure, and the prospect of Kostidis attending the Downeys’ party ruined her excitement. She felt like packing her suitcase and disappearing to avoid running into him again.
Alex was still sitting in her room when the first guests arrived at Lands End House, and she contemplated whether she should go downstairs at all. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk. The horseback ride had shaken off her tense mood for a moment, but the unexpected encounter with Nick Kostidis abruptly destroyed her feeling of happiness. Alex didn’t feel comfortable in Kostidis’s presence, but then she also had the urge to see him. She couldn’t explain these conflicting emotions—this mixture of attraction and aversion. There was something in his eyes, an expression that she couldn’t interpret. Was it ridicule or contempt? Or was she just imagining all of this?
She heard Christmas music and laughter from downstairs. She knew that Trevor and Madeleine would be disappointed if she didn’t join the party, so she finally slipped into her Ferragamo cocktail dress, checked herself out in the mirror, and with a sigh opened the door to go downstairs.
The party was already in full swing. The Christmas gathering was as “small” as Sergio’s birthday party had been. Everyone who was anyone on the East Coast was invited. But in contrast to Sergio’s party, old money mingled here—the real upper class, America’s aristocrats. Northern Long Island was once called the “Gold Coast.” This name did not refer to the color of its sandy beaches, but to the wealth of its inhabitants. But it had been some time since bold-faced names or conspicuous wealth impressed Alex. She’d had to deal with gigantic amounts of money, and she knew the richest people in America. Somewhere in this crowd, she found Madeleine, who looked enchanting and girlish in her burgundy dress, her cheeks red with excitement.
“How do you like it?” she called out with glowing eyes. “Isn’t it magnificent? I’m always nervous before, but once everyone is here, then it’s simply wonderful! The president and the first lady just arrived.”
Madeleine hugged her and rushed on. Alex took a glass of champagne and strolled through the large house filled with unfamiliar people. In the blue salon she caught sight of the president talking to Trevor, Senator Hoffman, Governor Rhodes, Congressman James Vaillant III, and Nick Kostidis—who had changed from his jeans into a dark-gray suit and a red tie. She was just about to leave the room when Trevor saw her and waved her toward him. He pulled her into his circle with a smile.
“Cliff,” he said to the president, “may I introduce Alex Sontheim? She’s a good friend of Maddy’s and mine.”
Cliff Gordon offered her a friendly smile and reached out his hand.
“I’m delighted to meet you, Ms. Sontheim.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. President.” Alex’s heart was racing in excitement. Trevor also introduced her to the other gentlemen, and it occurred to Alex that she had seen the senator and Governor Rhodes at Sergio’s birthday party. She was curious what they would say if she mentioned that now. Trevor was describing the unusual circumstances in which Madeleine and Alex met about six months ago to the president, and he was impressed. The president asked about her work and—to her amazement—gave Alex his undivided attention.
“You have an exceptional reputation on Wall Street,” he said. “Our country needs more people like you, Ms. Sontheim. Intelligent young people with civic courage.”
She smiled in embarrassment. Cliff Gordon invited her to the White House, and she trembled with excitement and pride. But then she met eyes with Nick Kostidis, and she thought that she sensed a hint of mockery. The pride that she’d felt a second ago vanished instantly. She was relieved that others crowded around the president, and she excused herself. She escaped the crowd and went into an adjacent room and sat down in an armchair at the window.