The Successor (7 page)

A month later she’d been out of money—and friends. Even the girls she’d gone to Elaine’s with wouldn’t return her calls. So she’d taken a job as a waitress and—nightmare of nightmares—been forced to sell her Oscar on eBay.

That’s when they’d called, just when she was at her most vulnerable. With an opportunity to make a big pot of money—an amount that wouldn’t have seemed like much a few months ago, but seemed like a ton now—and an opportunity for revenge. As poor as she’d suddenly become, the chance to one-up her father was almost as big an incentive as the money. Calling him out in public for being a failure as a husband and a father wasn’t enough anymore. Now she wanted to take him down. She was still too young to understand that revenge never ended up tasting as sweet as you thought it would.

Melissa glanced into the sports car’s rearview mirror. The long blond hair and blue eyes were gone. Now she had short dark hair and green eyes. She hadn’t wanted to be recognized as that young woman who’d won the Oscar, then been banished from Hollywood.

Now she
couldn’t
be recognized as that. They’d made that clear in no uncertain terms. They’d put so much emphasis on staying anonymous she got the feeling that if anyone ever found out who she was and these people heard about it, she might not be around long.

She shook her head. A few months ago she’d been on top of the world. It was amazing how quickly life could change.

6

ALLISON WALLACE
looked around anxiously. It was like no other office she’d ever been to. It was more like the reptile house at a zoo. Not the conservative surroundings of a prominent Manhattan senior executive she’d been expecting. Lining two walls were shelves of aquariums and cages, filled with snakes and lizards of all shapes and sizes. And a three-foot alligator lay in a tank in one corner.

“Everything all right?”

Allison glanced at the plump, middle-aged woman wearing cat’s-eye glasses who’d led her in here from reception. She’d barely heard the question because she couldn’t focus. The whole scene was too distracting. “Um…”

“Never been here before, huh?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry, they usually stay put.”

“Usually?”

The woman smiled. “Do you want anything to drink while you wait for Ms. Graham?”

“How about boric acid? In case I have to throw it at something slithering at me?”

“Sorry. The guy who was here before you got the last bottle. Good thing, too. That cobra over there would have nailed him if he hadn’t.”

Well, at least she had a sense of humor about it. “Pepsi would be great,” Allison said, checking in the direction the woman had looked when she’d mentioned the cobra. Sure enough, there were eyeglasses on the back of the coppery hood. It was a small snake, but so what? Weren’t baby snakes supposed to be even more poisonous than adults? “Thanks.”

When the woman was gone, Allison took a closer look at some of the creatures, keeping her distance, especially as she neared the alligator. The teeth on the thing were already getting big and the tank didn’t look that sturdy. It seemed as if it were smiling at her with those menacing pearly whites—not in a friendly way, either. More like he was hungry—and she was dinner.

“Like him?”

Allison whirled around. Victoria Graham stood in a far corner. She’d entered the office from an anteroom. Allison hadn’t heard the door open.

“I call him Tricky Dick,” Graham continued, moving toward Allison. “He reminds me of President Nixon. Powerful but sneaky. Got that sly look about him all the time. Like you never know what he’ll do next.” She held out her hand as she reached Allison. “Victoria Graham.”

“Allison Wallace. Nice to meet you.”

“You’re probably too young to remember Nixon in any personal way,” Graham said with a sigh. “He’s probably nothing but a picture in a history book for you. Just those two quick vees as he stood in the chopper doorway that last time on the White House lawn.” She held her arms up and fingers out in the classic Nixon stiff-upper-lip, farewell pose. “Maybe not even a picture for you, now that I think about it.”

“I don’t remember him,” Allison admitted, “but I’ve read about him and Watergate, all about the tapes.”

Tall and statuesque with pretty white hair swept back on both sides, Graham made a striking first impression. Fifty-seven, she looked her age, but was still beautiful—even sexy—for an older woman. She had a high forehead, a sharp chin, and her mouth seemed stuck in a mysterious semismile. She spoke in an aristocratic Katharine Hepburn croak and gestured with her hands a lot. Allison had done a Google search on Graham this morning and found several photographs of her. She was pretty in those pictures, but was much more impressive in person.

Allison’s Internet search had also turned up a litany of testimonials to Graham’s being a leader in the worldwide financial community as well as a ceiling-buster for women. The first woman to run a major U.S. insurance company, first woman to serve on five Fortune 500 boards at the same time, one of the first women to own a professional sports team. There were lots of firsts when it came to Victoria Graham, Allison had learned. Maybe Graham had the right to be a little eccentric about picking her officemates.

Graham gestured at the alligator. “I’m sure you’d like to hear the explanation.”

In fact, Allison was interested. Not just in the alligator though. “Well—”

“I own a house on Marco Island down in Florida, and this little guy kept coming up out of the canal onto my lawn this past winter, scaring everybody half to death. We think he was after my cats because a couple of them disappeared. Almost took a chunk out of the pool boy’s leg one afternoon. But he’s so cute I just
had
to have him. So I had him trapped and flown up here. Unfortunately I’m not going to be able to keep him here at the office much longer. He’s growing too fast what with all the rabbits we’re feeding him. So, I’m building him a place out at my house in Connecticut. All climate-controlled. It’s very nice.”

Allison’s eyes grew wide. “You feed him
here
?” This woman really was quite a character. Which hadn’t come through in the news articles—nor had Christian mentioned anything like that. Of course, that was Christian. He usually let you form your own opinions about people. “In your office?”

“Well, of course. Where else would I feed him?” Graham asked. “You want to watch?”

“No, no.” Instantly, Allison wished she hadn’t been so quick to turn down the opportunity. It might be interesting to see the hunt. It would be sad to watch a cute little rabbit die, but the alligator was going to get his dinner whether she was here or not. “But thanks.”

“Fine, fine.” Graham headed to a big leather chair behind her desk. “Maybe one of the snakes when we’ve finished our meeting. The boa’s a lot of fun to watch, too. But sometimes it takes him a while to strike after we put the rat in there.”

Allison glanced at the thick, coiled snake as Graham’s assistant came back in to deliver the soda. “Yeah, maybe,” she murmured.

“I’ve always liked reptiles,” Graham volunteered, sitting down. “In fact, I thought I was going to be a biologist or even a zoologist when I went to college.” She raised both eyebrows, pursed her lips, and gazed out the window.

Almost longingly, Allison thought to herself. As though despite all the success she’d achieved, something inside her caused her to wonder what it would have been like to have had a simpler life. As though there was even the tiniest seed of regret about how her life had turned out.

“But I ended up in the insurance business,” Graham continued.

“How?”

“My father owned an insurance brokerage business in Philadelphia. He died suddenly when I was a junior at the University of Florida, of a heart attack, and I had to come home and run the business because my siblings were too young to do it. Never went back to college,” she said ruefully. “I sold the business four years later to a big firm, then took a job with Mutual of Pennsylvania.” She fluttered her hand in the air and rolled her eyes. “The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Things turned out pretty well.”

“I suppose.”

“What is it that you like about reptiles?” Allison liked digging into the psyches of successful people, especially older women. She’d been looking for a role model all her life.

“The fact that a lot of them haven’t changed much in millions of years. I like that kind of consistency because I believe it’s consistency that builds dynasties and longevity, which reptiles have certainly enjoyed.” Graham smiled. “You’re a beautiful woman, dear.”

Victoria Graham was fascinating, not stiff and reserved as Allison had anticipated. Reputed to be tough as nails—she’d have to be tough to have been so successful in the male-dominated worlds in which she operated—she had a soft side as well. It seemed as if she said
exactly
what was on her mind, too. Something most people would never dream of doing. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“You’re lucky.” Graham shook her head and motioned toward the door. “I’ve done everything I can for Marcia. Poor girl. Plastic surgery, weight-loss spas, makeup specialists. But it hasn’t done much good. She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had and I love her like a daughter. But she’s going to die a spinster if she doesn’t watch out. She wants a husband so badly, but she’s going to have to lower her sights if she’s ever going to get a nibble.” Graham smiled. “You, on the other hand, must be beating them away with a stick.”

In her midthirties, Allison was pretty. Blond and vivacious with a body that still got those long whistles from Manhattan construction workers, Allison understood that she’d been blessed. She tried not to stick it in other women’s faces during the day, keeping her outfits conservative for business. But when she went out clubbing on weekends, she loved dressing provocatively. It was fun and she didn’t mind the stares. When the stares stopped, that’s when she’d worry.

“Are those real?” Graham asked, pointing at Allison’s chest.

Allison put a hand on her blouse and smiled self-consciously.
“Excuse me?”
Christian hadn’t said much about Victoria Graham, but he had warned Allison that there wasn’t a question the older woman wouldn’t ask. Allison had just assumed he meant there wasn’t a
business
question she wouldn’t ask.

“They’re just so perfect.”

Allison burst into nervous laughter. “Jesus.”

“Oh, I know, I’m direct.”

“I’d say.”

“But it’s fun.”

“Maybe for you, but—”

“And you don’t have to worry, I’m not a lesbian. That’s not why I’m asking.”

“Oh, God.”

Graham chuckled. “I’m a little peculiar, too, I guess.”

“Well, I don’t know about—”

“Christian probably told you.”

Allison hesitated. She didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. “He didn’t say anything like that. All he said was that you’ve been one of Everest Capital’s biggest supporters for a long time.” Allison had been a managing partner at Everest for a while, but this was the first time she’d ever met Victoria Graham. Christian handled Everest’s biggest and most important investors himself. “He has a lot of respect for you,” Allison continued. “Says you made Mutual of Pennsylvania what it is today.” Mutual of Pennsylvania—MuPenn, as the Street called the firm—was one of the biggest and most profitable insurance groups in the country. Graham had been CEO and chairman for nineteen years. She still ran the company with an iron fist, still got involved with decisions about what to do with the massive amount of premium dollars pouring into its coffers every day. “Says you’ve been with Everest from the start.”

“That’s right,” Graham confirmed. “I invested a million dollars with Christian’s old boss and mentor Bill Donovan, back in the early days, back in the mideighties. When Bill was just getting Everest off the ground. I wasn’t even CEO of MuPenn at that point, just chief investment officer.” She shook her head. “That first fund Bill put together was only twenty-five million dollars.” She glanced at Allison. “How big is the fund Christian just finished raising? I can’t remember exactly.”

“Twenty-five
billion.
”

“My Lord. That’s incredible.”

“MuPenn invested seven hundred and fifty million dollars,” Allison reminded Graham. “You’re one of our biggest investors.”

Graham nodded. “I
do
remember that number. I signed off on the investment personally. The board doesn’t usually ask me to do that anymore, but it’s the biggest single investment we’ve ever made, and they wanted to make sure I rubber-stamped it personally.”

“Just in case something goes wrong.” A CYA move, Allison realized.

“Right,” Graham agreed. “But nothing will. Christian has a great track record. He’s the best in the business.” She hesitated. “Which I’m sure is why your family invested so much with Everest.”

The Wallaces were one of the wealthiest families in the country. Based in Chicago, they’d made their first fortune during the 1800s off railroads. Then it was real estate, parceling off and selling land they’d acquired from owning the railroad and developing other tracts themselves. Most recently, they’d struck it huge with the cell phone explosion.
Forbes
and
Fortune
put the family’s net worth at $40 billion, but the number was actually higher. Several years ago the Wallaces had committed $5 billion to the last Everest fund—the one Christian had raised prior to the current $25 billion pool—and it was the largest individual commitment ever made to any leveraged-buyout firm. They’d sent Allison to Manhattan to watch over the massive commitment—and to learn.

“I thought you were going back to Chicago after that last fund was fully invested,” Graham spoke up. “To set up your own leveraged-buyout business for your family. I remember Christian telling me that when he was first considering taking your family on as an investor. He was worried that you’d ultimately become his competitor.”

Allison looked down. “I decided to stay.”

“Why?”

“I like Manhattan.” She liked Christian, too, a lot. Had since the moment they’d met. And he had the same feelings for her, she was sure. A couple of times it had almost gone to the next level, almost burst into something intense. But that they worked together always seemed to get in the way. “And I had a bit of a falling-out with my family.”

Graham raised one eyebrow. “Tell me about that.”

Victoria Graham could ask all the questions she wanted to, but there didn’t have to be answers. Not when they dealt with Allison’s personal life. Of course, she didn’t want to aggravate one of Everest’s biggest investors, either. Christian wouldn’t be happy about that. “Things happen, you know?”

“Did you and Gordon Meade not get along?”

Gordon Meade had been in charge of the Wallace Family Trust—the vehicle the family used to make most of its investments—until a couple of years ago. After years of thinking Meade was a hired gun—an outsider who ran the trust because no one inside had that kind of experience—Allison had stumbled onto the fact that he was really a family member—with a dark secret. “We did…for the most part.”

“I ran into Gordon a few times while he was running your family’s money. It’s a small world. Seemed like a nice enough man. But he died, right?”

Allison nodded.

“How?”

Now
that
was a tricky question. There was the official story—then what had really happened. “He had a stroke,” Allison answered. She managed to keep her eyes locked on Graham’s, but it wasn’t easy.

“Who’s running the family money now?”