barely eighteen-year-old Vanessa’s affair with the head of Savoy Models was exposed, she was cut out of her family allowance for her refusal to quit the business as her father demanded. She thanked God that her father knew nothing about her cocaine addiction and recovery in the private clinic in upstate New York.
As Vanessa expertly applied foundation and blush, she gave up on finding any magic words to break it gently to her father. The best option lay in finding the right moment, dropping the bomb and going for damage control if he did explode. Coating her lips with Raspberry Ice gloss, she blotted them and spread her mouth into a smile. What was the worst he could do, anyway?
Using the remote to send the clothes in her closet whizzing by for her inspection, she answered her own question. Her father would use the big threat he always used. He’d threaten to cut her off from the family fortune. His threat and her determination to be independent had prompted her to enroll in Columbia University and work fulltime toward a business degree.
Going to college had given her that much more confidence in her ability to take care of herself and eventually it had gotten her back into her family’s good graces. After going year round and taking extra classes, she had only a year and a half more before getting a bachelor’s degree in business administration. The only problem was that she had no idea what kind of business she wanted to be in.
After halting the parade of clothes and selecting a silk, ruby-colored Versace camisole and a soft, flowered silk Cavalli wrap skirt, she stepped into the shoes closet on her left and found a matching red pair of Manolos.
Crossing the room, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She usually liked more meat on her five-foot-eleven-inch frame, but she was just about the right size for the cameras. Maybe catching a bug on that family cruise to the Mediterranean last month hadn’t been such a bad thing after all. Now all she had to do was watch what she ate.
By the time she’d dressed and styled her sandy brown, golden-streaked hair and attended to some charity matters in her home office, her father’s chauffer was waiting in the car downstairs. Stuffing her lipstick and keys into her Gucci Hobo bag, she hurried downstairs to the car.
At her parents’ home in an exclusive section of Scarsdale, Vanessa greeted Robert, the butler, and made her way in. Her parents were relaxing and getting ready for dinner in the large living area they used to entertain guests.
“You look wonderful,” her mother said, moving from her place on the sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows to hug and kiss Vanessa.
In a classic, pink Chanel suit, Lonette Dawson was gorgeous. The highlights in her sandy brown hair were subtler than Vanessa’s, her eyes were sienna brown instead of hazel and her figure was more rounded, but they looked like sisters.
“You look beautiful, too, Mama,” Vanessa murmured, returning the kiss on the cheek. She approached her dad, who was leaning back on the sofa in a navy, checked Perry Ellis suit. The financial and real estate sections of the paper were close to his fingers, but he was making an effort to give the family all of his attention.
“Daddy, how are you?” she said, kissing his cheek.
“I’ll be better when this deal I’m working on goes through,” he noted irritably. He paused and a charming, apologetic smile transformed his face. “Sorry, sweetheart, that has nothing to do with you. How’s school?”
“You know I took the summer off to concentrate on my charity work with the Gotham Rose Club.”
“Vanessa will have her degree in another year and a half,” her mother said, taking Vanessa’s hand and urging her to a spot on the couch. “Want something to drink?”
Vanessa wet her lips. Tonight she needed all her faculties. “Ginger ale?” At the bar, Robert was already filling a glass for her.
Her father’s hazel eyes regarded her thoughtfully. “So what will you do when you get this degree from Columbia? You want a job with the company?”
Vanessa felt the walls closing in. Working for the family business would put her right under her father’s thumb. “No—at least not right now. I was thinking that I could manage my portfolio.”
“There’s not much in it, is there? Nothing except for the stock you’ve gotten for Christmases and birthdays,” he remarked. “You don’t get control of the trust fund until you’re thirty and I’m pretty sure you haven’t saved any of your family allowance.”
“There’s the money my mother left her,” her mother put in quickly.
“That wasn’t enough to cover Vanessa’s clothing allowance for more than a few years,” her father countered.
Normally, it would be true, but Vanessa had plans for independence that went a long way towards helping her pass up on that extra pair of designer shoes or the latest bag. “Actually, I used some of the family allowance toward the Gotham Roses and for schooling and living expenses.” Using the condo she’d inherited from her grandmother as her home, she’d tied the inherited funds into investments that she used to pay the taxes. Accepting the ginger ale from Robert and thanking him, she spoke up for herself.
Newfound respect crept into her father’s eyes. “Good. I parlayed less into enough of a fortune to win the business over your Uncle Marvin.”
Having heard the particular story of how he made his wealth more times than she cared to count, Vanessa held her breath. Her mother rolled her eyes. Relief came from an unlikely source. Dressed in a pink tank and crinkled silk miniskirt, Michelle burst into the room, interrupting her father’s lecture. A couple of pages of the newspaper dangled from Michelle’s fingers and her gaze skewered Vanessa.
“Michelle, how many times have I told you, it’s not ladylike to run about the house?” Lonette Dawson’s voice carried an edge.
“Sorry, Mama. I’ll try to remember next time. I was just so excited about what I read in the Rubi Cho In the Know column in today’s New York Reporter. She says that the ink on the contract is almost dry and the most memorable sweetheart from the Sweetheart Dreams Catalog is coming back to star in the Inside Sports swimsuit edition.” With a hand on one hip, Michelle turned accusing eyes on Vanessa. “That’s you, isn’t it, Vanessa? Are you going to be in the Inside Sports swimsuit edition?”
Vanessa had signed the contract only yesterday. How had Rubi Cho gotten wind of it so quickly? For the second time that evening, her voice stuck in her throat. “I—I—” She cleared her throat. There was nothing to do but own up to it. “Yes. I was going to announce it after dinner,” she admitted, facing her family with her head up and her shoulders squared. “Keifer Jonas, the photographer who did several of my most famous shots, asked me personally,” she lied. “They’re paying a lot of money that I can put in my portfolio and it’s a really good opportunity. I’ll be back before next semester starts. Mom, Dad, I—I just couldn’t pass it up.”
Brows drawing together like thunderclouds, her father’s eyes sparked with anger. “Vanessa, I thought that phase of your life was over. The last thing this family needs is our version of Paris Hilton in the limelight. It’s time to think of starting a family or helping expand the family business. Aren’t you getting a little old for modeling?”
Vanessa winced, his words burning her like acid.
“Mannie…” Lonette’s soft voice halted her husband’s tirade. She moved over to Vanessa on the couch and took her hand. “We’re concerned about you, Vanessa. We certainly have enough
