“I just want to relax,” Melanie said. She had to be in the recording studio again the next day. And they were starting rehearsals for the show in Vegas the day after. “What are you doing, Mom?”
“I'm going to go shopping on Rodeo,” she beamed. Nothing made her happier than Melanie performing at a huge concert and getting great reviews the next day.
She left them alone without dark looks or slamming doors this time, much to Tom's surprise.
“I think your initiation may finally be over,” Melanie said with a sigh. “For now anyway. She must have decided you're not a threat.”
“I'm not, Mel. I love what you do. It was incredible watching you last night. I couldn't believe I was sitting there, and when you sang that song, I damn near died.”
“I'm glad you liked it.” She leaned over and kissed him. She looked tired, but pleased. She had just turned twenty, and looked prettier than ever to him. “I wish I could take a break sometime, from all this. It gets old after a while,” she confessed. She had said it to him before, in the past few weeks. The time she'd spent working in the field hospital after the earthquake had been such a welcome relief.
“Maybe one of these days,” he tried to encourage her, but she just shook her head.
“My mom and my agent will never let that happen. The smell of success is too sweet to them. They're going to milk this till I die.” She sounded sad as she said it, and Tom put his arms around her and kissed her. The look in her eyes had touched him to the core, just as her song had. She was a remarkable woman, and he knew he was one lucky guy. Fate had dealt him an incredible hand. The San Francisco earthquake, and meeting her as a result, had been the best day of his life.
While Janet was reading Melanie's reviews in Hollywood that morning, Sarah and Seth Sloane were reading their own. It had finally hit the San Francisco papers, and neither of them could figure out what had taken so long. He had been arrested weeks before, and somehow no one had picked up on it. But it had finally exploded like Fourth of July fireworks, and it had even been reported by the AP. Sarah had a feeling that the reporters covering Sully's earlier arrest and impending trial had tipped off the San Francisco press that he had had a crime partner out west. Until then, Seth's story had slipped right through the cracks, but it was front-page news now. Every lurid detail was printed in the Chronicle, with a photograph of Seth and Sarah at the recent Smallest Angels benefit. What they wrote about him was grim. They had the full indictment, all available details, the name of his hedge fund, and the circumstances leading up to his arrest. It said their house was on the market, mentioned that he had a house in Tahoe and a plane. And they made it sound as though everything he owned had been purchased with ill-gotten gains. He sounded like the biggest crook and fraud in town. It was profoundly humiliating for him, and excruciating for her as well. She had no doubt that her parents would even read about it in Bermuda, once the AP put it over the wires. She realized she had to call them now. With luck, she could still explain it herself. It was simpler for Seth. His parents had been much older when he was born and both were deceased. Her parents were very much alive and would be shocked, particularly since they loved Seth, and had right from the beginning.
“It's not a pretty story, is it?” Seth said, glancing at her. They had both lost a lot of weight. He looked gaunt, and she looked drained.
“There's not much they can do with it to dress it up,” she said honestly.
These were the last days of their living together. They had agreed to stay in the house on Divisadero, for the kids’ sake, until it sold, before they moved into their own apartments. They were expecting several offers that week. It wouldn't be long. Sarah knew it would make her sad to see the house go. But she was far more upset about her marriage and her husband than about the house they had owned only for a few years. The house in Tahoe was on the market, with everything in it, even kitchenware, TVs, and linens. It was easier to sell that way to someone who wanted a ski house and didn't want to bother decorating it or filling it. The house in the city would be sold empty. They were putting their antiques up for auction at Christie's, along with their modern paintings. Her jewelry was beginning to sell in L.A.
Sarah was still looking for a job, but hadn't found anything yet. She was keeping Parmani for the children, because she knew that when she found work, she'd need someone to take care of them. She hated the idea of leaving her children in day care, even though she knew that others did. What she really wished was that she could do what she had done until now, stay home with them, as she had for the past three years. But that was over. With Seth spending every penny they had on lawyers for his defense, and possibly fines, she had to work, not just to help contribute, but maybe at some point to support her children and herself, with no help from Seth. If everything they had and owned was going to be swallowed up by court orders, lawsuits, and his defense fund, and he went to prison, who was going to help them? She had to rely on herself.
After Seth's astonishing and utterly appalling betrayal, she trusted no one now but herself. She could no longer rely on him. And she knew she'd never trust him again. He read it easily in her eyes whenever their glance met. He had no idea how to make reparations to her, or if he ever could. He doubted it, given everything she'd said. She hadn't forgiven him, and he had come to doubt she ever would. And he wasn't sure he blamed her. He was feeling deeply guilty about the effect on her. Their life was destroyed.
He was shocked when he read the article in the paper. It made mincemeat of him and Sully and made them sound like common criminals. Nothing kind or compassionate was said. They were two bad guys who had set up fraudulent hedge funds, misrepresented the financial backing, and had cheated people out of money. What else could they say? Those were the allegations, and as Seth had admitted to Sarah and his own attorney, the accusations made against them were all true.
They hardly spoke to each other again all weekend. Sarah didn't insult or berate him. There was no point. She didn't say anything. She was too hurt. He had destroyed every shred of faith and confidence she'd ever had in him, and thrown her trust out the window by proving himself unworthy of it. He had put their children's future lives at risk, and heavily impacted hers. He had made her worst nightmares come true, for better or worse.
“Don't look at me like that, Sarah,” he finally said to her over the paper. There was an even bigger, uglier article in the Sunday edition of The New York Times, which included Seth too. As important as Seth and Sarah had become in their community, their disgrace was now commensurate. Although she had done nothing herself, and knew nothing of his illegal activities before the earthquake, she felt tarred by the same brush. Their phone had been ringing off the hook for days, and she left it on the machine. There was nothing she wanted to say to anyone, or hear from them. Sympathy would have cut through her like a knife, and she didn't want to hear the thinly veiled chortles of the jealous. She was sure there would be plenty of those. The only people she had spoken to that day were her parents. They were devastated and shocked, and couldn't understand what had happened to Seth any better than she could. In the end, it was all about lack of integrity and intense greed.
“Can't you at least try to put a good face on it?” Seth said reproachfully. “You sure know how to make things worse.”
“I think you took care of that pretty efficiently, Seth.” After she cleared the table of their breakfast dishes, he found her crying at the sink.