Leana awoke with a start. Someone was pounding on her bedroom door. She lifted her head from the pillow and winced, the sudden movement causing pain to course through her neck, shoulders and back.
She sat up in bed.
Tried to sit up in bed. The movement took unexpected effort and Leana soon found that her entire body ached. Eric, she thought.
She laid back down and turned to look at the clock on the bedside table. The red digital numbers were nowhere to be found. Neither was her bedside table. Puzzlement went through her. And then she remembered.
She wasn’t in her bedroom. She was in a suite at The Plaza Hotel.
Last night, before leaving home, she phoned The Plaza and reserved one of the permanent suites Redman International kept for visiting guests. It was here that she would stay until she found an apartment of her own.
The hammering on the door intensified. Leana struggled into a seated position and listened. The sound was coming from the next room. Faintly, she could hear a man’s voice. “Open the door, Leana. Now.”
She felt a chill. It was her father. But how? She had told no one she was here. How did he find out? And then she knew. She was escorted here last evening by the hotel’s manager, a friend of her father’s. Although he hadn’t mentioned her appearance, the look in the man’s eyes reflected his concern. Leana made him promise not to tell her father that she was here. She didn't want to deal with George and Elizabeth until the time was right. She had hoped the man would keep silent longer.
The pounding stopped and Leana heard what sounded like the jangling of keys beyond the locked door. She stood, glimpsed her reflection in the full-length mirror opposite her and turned away.
As she crossed the room, pain shot through her legs and lodged in her hips. Leana moved through it. She would not let her father see what Eric did to her.
Her back was to George when he stepped into the bedroom. There was a silence and Leana could feel George’s hesitation, sense the frown on his face as he glanced around the room.
Last night, she unpacked only one of her suitcases. The other two-and some clothes-cluttered the middle of the room.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “What is this?”
Leana was standing at one of the bedroom windows and, in the reflection of the glass, she could see George standing behind her, his hands on his hips. They were as alike as two separate people could ever hope to be. They shared the same blue eyes, the same black hair, the same stubborn temperament. She wondered now, as she often did, how two people so alike could never have grown close.
“Answer me,” George said. “What is this?”
“What does it look like?” she said. “I’ve moved out.”
“Mind telling me why?”
“I’m sure you’ve spoken with Celina. You tell me.”
“All right,” George said. “Your sister says you slept with Eric. She says you planned it so she would catch you two in bed together. Is that true?”
The tone of his voice said it was and Leana bristled. Couldn’t he at least have given her the benefit of the doubt?
“I asked if that was true.”
“As a matter of fact, it isn’t.”
“Which part?”
“Both parts.”
“I think you’d better explain yourself.”
Was it really so difficult for him to believe her? “There’s nothing to explain,” she said. “Eric and I did nothing. I didn’t set Celina up.”
“Bullshit,” George said. “Celina saw you two in bed together. She spoke to your friend from security. He identified you as the one who gave him that message. Now, admit it.”
She whirled on him. “I’ll admit nothing,” she said. “And I don’t give a shit who that man described. It wasn’t me.”
And then she saw the look of surprise on George’s face and realized what she had just done. In her anger, she had revealed what Eric had done to her.
For a moment, George could only stare. The bruises were dark and they crisscrossed Leana’s swollen face. Her upper lip was cut. Her tan had all but disappeared.
“Jesus Christ,” he said.
Leana turned away from him, suddenly angry with herself. How could she have been so stupid? How would she ever explain this to him?
“He did this to you, didn’t he?” George said.
Leana started to walk past him, toward the open door. As much as she wanted to, she could tell her father nothing. Eric’s threat was still fresh in her mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Yes, you do,” George said. As she passed, he grabbed her by the arm and twisted her around so they faced each other. “Tell me the truth. Eric did this, didn’t he?”
“You’re hurting me,” she said. She tried to release herself from him. “Are you going to rough me up too?”
He loosened his grip on her arm. “Just tell me the truth. Don’t lie to me.”
“So, I’m a liar now? Let go of my fucking arm.”
But George wouldn’t let go. “Why are you protecting that son of a bitch? Tell me what happened. What did he do to you?”
Leana wrenched her arm free and backed away from him. “He did nothing to me. All right? Nothing. Now, leave it alone.”
“Not until you tell me what happened.”
She looked at him incredulously. “What the hell do you care? You’ve never cared about me. You don’t even love me. Never have.”
“Oh, so it’s this again.”
“That’s right,” she said. “It’s this again. What an inconvenience it must be for you to hear the truth.”
“Your truth.”
“Whatever,” she said. “It’s always been Celina and you know it. But here’s the thing, Dad-it stops now. Stay the hell out of my life. I don’t want you in it. You bring me down.”
George flushed. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that.”
“I could say the same for the way I was raised.”
“Right,” he said. “Everyone should have it as bad as you’ve had it, Leana. A nice home, the best clothes and schools. Everything you’ve ever had was the best that money could buy.”
“You and your fucking money,” she said. “Is that all you’re about? Who gives a shit about your money? It’s always been you that I wanted, not the damn home, clothes or schools. It’s never been any of that. All I ever wanted was your attention. Maybe a sign that I mattered to you. But you were never willing to give it to me. You were always too preoccupied with your business. And your money. And Celina. Let’s not forget her since she makes so much of it for you.”
George regarded his daughter for a moment. He felt angry and hurt, guilty and sad, and he knew it was because Leana was speaking the truth. He hadn't been a good father to her. Just a good provider-that’s it.
He left for the adjoining room. Nothing could be solved here now. The air was dirty. “I’m leaving,” he said.
Leana followed him to the door. “Good.”
“Don’t sound so happy,” George said. “You’re leaving, too.” He opened the door and Leana saw two uniformed bellhops waiting in the hall. It was clear by the embarrassment on their young faces that they heard most of the argument.
“Her luggage is in the bedroom,” George said to the men. He stepped aside so they could retrieve it and looked at Leana. She was standing with her back to a window, her arms folded, her head lifted just slightly too high. She paid no attention to the bellhops as they crossed in front of her. Her attention was on George.
“You have two options,” George said. “You can either have the luggage placed in your car and follow me home-where you belong-or you can hand over the keys to your car, the key to this room and have the luggage brought to the lobby, because you’re not staying here. If you want to be on your own, Leana, then you’ll have to do it on your own-not with my help. The decision’s yours.”
Without hesitation, Leana turned to the table beside her and reached for her purse. She retrieved her car keys and the hotel key, and tossed them to her father. Her face was expressionless as she watched him pick them up.
George pocketed the keys. “You’re making a mistake,” he said.
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
“No,” George said. “That’s a matter of fact.” He nodded toward her purse. “Hand over your credit cards. All of them.”
Leana did as she was told, feeling curiously liberated as she emptied the cards from her wallet and handed them over to him. She also took out her cash and tossed it at his feet. He didn’t think that she could make it on her own? Fine. She’d show him and everyone else that she could.
George asked the bellhops to pick up the cash and keep it. “I know you have money in the bank,” he said to Leana. “There’s nothing I can do about that. But I also happen to know it isn’t much and you’ll soon run out. Maybe then, when you really have nothing, you’ll realize just how good you’ve had it and come home.”
“Just how good I've had it," she said. "God, you're pathetic. I’m never coming home.”
The finality of her words and the cool tone of her voice struck him like a fist. Did she realize what she was saying? How would she make it without him? She hadn’t worked a day in her life. “You say that now because you’re angry.”
“Could your ego get any bigger? Listen closely. I say that now because I’m sick of you, I’m sick of coming in second and because I mean it.”
“We’ll see,” George said. He turned to the bellhops as they re-entered the room. “See to it that she leaves here,” he said to the men, and then he was gone, through the door, without looking back.
“I’ll need a few minutes,” Leana said to the bellhops. “Would you mind bringing back the bags and waiting for me in the hall so I can change? I won’t be long.”
When she was alone, she sank into a nearby chair and closed her eyes. She felt drained and exhausted. Her father was gone. After all these years, she finally told him how she felt. She finally stood up to him. She should be happy, but why did she feel like crying.
But she wouldn’t cry. She made her decision and she would stick to it. It was time the rest of the world learned that George Redman had another daughter. It was time that her father and mother saw what she was capable of. Leana was determined to make a success of herself-and she would do it without her father’s help, without her father’s money. Unlike Celina.
In the bathroom, she ran a brush through her hair, changed into a faded pair of jeans and an oversized white silk shirt, and applied enough makeup to hide the bruises on her cheeks and the base of her nose. Those around her eyes she concealed with dark sunglasses. There was nothing she could do about the cut on her lip. It was small, but it showed.
When she joined the men in the hall, she thanked them for waiting. They retrieved her bags and she followed them to an elevator. When they reached the lobby, Leana asked the men to put her bags in a cab while she used a phone. She had to call Harold Baines. At the opening of Redman International, he mentioned something about helping her find a job. Now, she realized that his contacts could be invaluable.
When Harold answered, she told him what happened and asked if she could use one of his guest bedrooms. “But only until I find a place of my own,” she said. “Yes, I’m all right. I’ll tell you everything when I see you.” She paused. “And Uncle Harold? Please don’t tell Dad that I’ll be staying with you. For once in his life, I want him to worry about me-if that’s possible.”
The day was warm and sunny when she left The Plaza. A breeze ruffled her hair and felt good against her skin. As Leana came down the stairs and stepped into the waiting cab, she apologized to the bellhops for not having any money to tip them, thanked them for their trouble and left for Harold’s townhouse-oblivious to Vincent Spocatti, who was following her in a cab of his own.