She felt like it, too. But Frances was excited. This was happening. She finally had something to look forward to. Something Big.
Ten
Edie was in a mood. What was the point of lining the pockets of state senators if they weren’t going to help you when you needed them to? Not to mention the useless Speaker of the House, which once again proved her theory that the state and the world would be better off if women just ran things. Seriously, what part of hosting a thousand-dollar-a-plate fundraiser for him did he not understand? She was entitled tosomethingfor that, and she didn’t have in mind democracy.
“Now, Edie,” Speaker Baines had said in the most condescending voice ever, “you know I can’t do anything about that.”
“Do I, Steve?DoI? That good-for-nothing was doing business in this state.” She’d told him all about Rocco Vitali, and how he’d taken money from old college friends then tanked his cryptocurrency. “It was a Ponzi scheme,” she insisted. She was pretty sure it was, anyway, as it smelled like one from a mile away. She’d done some research into the worm since Marcy’s tearful confession. She learned that not only had he bilked his friends, but he’d also inherited a casino in Vegas. There were news articles quoting him boasting how he would turn it into the first “crypto casino” run exclusively on cryptocurrency. Even more articles about himinvesting the cold hard cash the casino earned into new crypto projects. And more articles hailing him as a young visionary with a unique view of a digital future. Others calling him the Philanthropist of Crypto for his donations to worthy causes. Edie wanted to gag.
There were a couple of detractors. The Green Energy Plan, for one, a non-profit organization that was worried about the drain on the power grid a massive cryptocurrency project like a casino could cause.
This casino thing, though. She learned that Rocco’s grandfather, Vincent Vitali (that name rang a bell so loud it clanged in her head), had died and left his Vegas casino to his only beloved grandson. Somehow, Rocco planned to transform the casino into one that would run exclusively on cryptocurrency, from the high roller tables down to the slots. The crypto exchange necessary for this endeavor was being built and would soon be up and running. He intended to take the cash and chips on hand, move them to a bank, and fire up the exchange. Tech wizards hailed it as a revolutionary model.
“Revolutionary my ass,” Edie had muttered to herself.
Her intention was to head that big casino victory off at the pass by seeing Rocco arrested and prosecuted in Tennessee. But Steve was not cooperating.
“I don’t like tossing words around likePonzi scheme, Edie,” he said in a schmoozy voice. “I have no evidence of that.”
“I just gave you evidence of it,” Edie said.
Steve stood from his desk and came around to her side and stood close enough that she had to bend her head back to stare him down. “We like the Crypto King here in Tennessee. He’s good business and a generous donor to certain campaigns, if you take my meaning.”
Oh, she took it, all right. She’d glared at Steve’s bloated speaker face. “Enjoy spending my granddaughter’s hard-earned money, because he robbed her to pay you.”
Steve chuckled as he put his hand on her elbow and steeredher to the door. “You say rob, others say she should have done her research.”
In response, Edie had called him a few choice names, left his office in a rage, and sped home.
She was sick of men. It wasn’t that she didn’t like men, because she did like some, very much. Her sons were outstanding. Most male friends of the family were all aces. But she was sick of them ruling the world and treating her like she ought to sit down and shut up, and her cheating husband was currently the worst of the worse, with Steve Baines running a close second.
The traffic from Nashville was ridiculous, and as she neared home, she’d been hit with a heavy downpour on a two-lane road behind some old woman’s Cadillac. “Motherfucker!” Edie shouted as she floored her Porsche and went around the Cadillac, spraying water onto its windshield. That would teach the little old ladies to get out in this weather.
By the time she reached Songbird Hill, the sun was shining again. She got out of her car, slammed the door, and marched into the house.
The first thing she noticed was the TV on in the formal living room. No one ever used the living room. Furthermore, they were not TV-in-the-middle-of-the-day people. If the TV came on at all, it was after supper. And to add even more horror, the program was a loud game show.
Edie tossed down her designer handbag and walked into the living room.Marcy.The girl had not yet picked herself up from her investment disaster.
Edie leaned over the back of the couch where Marcy was lying with greasy hair, baggy sweats, and a bag of chips into which her hand appeared stuck. “Marcy Anne Kessler!” Edie snapped.
Marcy clearly hadn’t heard her enter the room—and who could with the bells and whistles of the game show on full volume—and flung the bag across the room in her startlement. Suddenly, corn chips were everywhere on Edie’s hand-knotted Turkish carpet.
Edie marched around the couch, picked up the remote, andturned the TV off. Legs braced apart, arms folded, she glared down at her granddaughter.
“What?” Marcy said.
“What do you mean, ‘What?’ You can’t live like this, Marcy. What about your job?”
“I told you, I’m taking some time off.”
“You’re taking time off from your fledging PR company instead of hustling clients?”
Marcy looked down at her lap.
“What about your friends? Your apartment? What about your mother’s couch? She wouldn’t mind it as much as me.”
“Yes, she does. Mom won’t let me hang out there.”
