Reilly 04 - Breach of Promise by Perri O'Shaughnessy Page B

oak-floored room as big as a ballroom. Above them, fighting to conquer the dismal day, crystal chandeliers lighted the way, swaying slightly in an invisible breeze.
    They walked on. With blackened slate over many of the passageway floors, stone walls and rain pouring down the windows, the most brilliant lighting could not entirely exorcise a Gothic creepiness from the house.
    In a room with a view of the lake, the sun hidden behind ribbons of clouds, Lindy apologized and asked Nina to wait just a minute.
    She left. Nina sat down on a long bench that ran the length of the room, at least a hundred feet long. Some exercise equipment and objects she couldn’t identify filled one small alcove. The rest of the space, mirrored on one side, might function as a dance studio. She and Bob lived in a house that would fit into this one room.
    Lindy reappeared. “Sorry. I’ve got our housekeeper, Florencia, helping me with the packing.”
    “It is a magnificent house,” Nina said. “I’m sorry about all this, Lindy.”
    “You’re not responsible. Blame Rachel. That’s what I do.”
    “What’s it like,” Nina asked suddenly. “I mean, to be rich?”
    “What a funny question.”
    “Forget it. I don’t mean to be rude.”
    “No, it’s interesting.” They walked across the room. Lindy stopped when she reached the area full of equipment. “The truth is, maybe because I had so little growing up, I really loved having money. It’s addictive as any drug that gets you high. Money blunts all the rough edges, soothes your soul, makes you feel special and powerful. There is nothing in the world as seductive.
    “Have a problem? Throw enough money at it and I promise it will go away. Worried about the environment? Fund a cleanup project. Feeling sad? Plan a fabulous vacation. You feel like you can do anything when you have enough money, and there are so many things I still want to do in my life.”
    “You mentioned power.”
    “A real high, and easy to buy. People, too.”
    They were in an area that held a stationary bike, a treadmill, a stand holding up a set of shiny silver free weights, and a number of odd things Nina had noticed while Lindy was talking. The biggest item was a transparent, cylindrical tank nearly as tall as Nina, full of water as clear and beautiful as a glass of turquoise Caribbean seawater.
    “So I want my money,” Lindy said, sticking her hand over the top to wet her fingers. She took them out, looking satisfied. “And most of the time, I believe I deserve it, too.”
    “You worked hard for it, Lindy.”
    “Mike won’t see that. Plenty of other people won’t either. But money is only one reason for suing Mike. The other reason is that this case will make him face me and make him keep his promises to me.”
    “No system can force someone who has wronged you to stay with you or love you again,” Nina said. “Money is the only compensation available, the objective standard. Your loss has to be quantified somehow. Emotions . . . they can’t be quantified.”
    “I refuse to give it all up on demand. I refuse.”
    “Lindy,” Nina said slowly, making ripples in the water with her fingernails. “What you said before . . . Are you by any chance thinking that you’ve bought me?”
    “Of course not, Nina.” Lindy looked hurt. “You know this is about an issue that’s important to women, not just to me. And you’re doing this because you want to help me personally. Those are all the right reasons. And now we’re a team. No, the people you can buy are a whole different type.”
    “What type?”
    “Money is God to those people.” Drying her hands on a towel, as if physically expressing that she was done with that unpalatable line of thought, she stepped away from the tank. “Forgot to tell you to bring a swimsuit.” She rummaged in a cabinet near the spa.
    “Oh, I wanted to mention I’ve hired one of the best palimony attorneys in the state to help me with your case.” Nina described some of