The Darlings by Cristina Alger Read Free Book Online

Thanksgiving when she said: “Actually, a call is coming in now. It’s Merrill. Do you want to take it?”
    â€œSure, just forward it to me. Now get out of here.”
    He switched his phone to line two and put Merrill on speakerphone. “Hi there,” he said affectionately, relaxing back into his chair. “Almost done with work?” Merrill had planned on taking a half day so that she could pack for the weekend. “Any chance you’re stopping by the drugstore on your way home?”
    There was a pause. When she spoke, her voice was hollow, as if the air had been sucked out of her. “Who is this?” she said.
    â€œIt’s Paul, Mer,” he said, snatching up the receiver. His body instinctually flushed with adrenaline; something was wrong. “Ida’s rolling your dad’s calls to me.”
    â€œI need to talk to him. I called his cell phone, but it’s off. Where is he?”
    â€œI think he’s driving. What’s going on? Talk to me.”
    Merrill was mute. He could hear the television on in the background. It buzzed like white noise, the sound reverberating on the line between them.
    â€œTurn on the television,” she said quietly. “It’s on every channel.”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œMorty’s dead.”
    â€œI’ll call you back from the conference room,” Paul said, fumbling beneath his desk to put on his shoes.
    â€œI have to go. I’m at the office. There’s a deposition.”
    â€œYou don’t need to go to that,” he said, trying not to raise his voice. “You don’t need to do anything if you’re upset.”
    â€œNo, I can’t—I just can’t. I’m sorry; I’m a little overwhelmed right now. I’ll call you later. I love you.”
    And then she was gone, before he could say, “I love you.” Before he could say anything at all.

WEDNESDAY, 11:20 A.M.
    T he day began badly for Lily, with all the hallmarks of a hangover. She awoke with a throbbing headache and the disheartening realization that she had slept in her makeup. Her eyes blinked open, and finding the bedroom saturated with light, immediately closed again. For a minute or two she went still, counting her drinks from the night before like sheep and wishing she weren’t awake. The hangover felt disproportionate to the amount of fun she remembered having.
    Lily always drank too much when she was with Daria. It was possible that Daria was her best friend; at least, Daria was the person with whom she spent the most time, next to Adrian and her mother. Ines didn’t approve of Daria; she described her, arch eyed, as “having an agenda.” Ines was wary of girls whom she perceived as not being from nice families; girls who insinuated themselves into New York society by tactically befriending the right sort of people at the right sort of parties. Women with Agendas: Lily had been cautioned not to befriend them. Women with Agendas were, in Ines’s estimation, more dangerous than gold diggers because they were clever, and because they wanted things that girls like Lily could provide for them.
    If Ines was to be listened to, the world was populated by people waiting to take advantage of Lily. Boys without means were interested in her money. Boys with means were still interested in her money because children of the wealthy lacked a work ethic and wanted a spouse who would make sure their club memberships would never go unpaid and their children would be admitted to the right schools and there would always be pleasant dinner parties and charity events in the evenings. And all women wanted something. Ines felt strongly that women were rarely friends with one another unless they could get something out of it. Female friendships were like strategic alliances: Each party had to bring something to the table in order to maintain equity. The simple fact was that Lily didn’t need anything from