The Heir of New York

Part 1 - Making friends

First published by Eclectica Magazine, January/February, 2016.

The story has twelve parts

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It's the kind of party where everyone looks great, but you're not sure if you like anyone there. Old men dressed in navy suits and blue ties of various shades stand in clumps talking about the economy and the stock market in China. I turn my back to the crowd and take a picture so you can see the groups behind me, then send it to Chantal, telling her I'm making new friends. I know she'll like this. When I turn back around, one man, who stands out by wearing a bright-purple tie, is younger than the rest. He's gladhanding and impressing his smile upon as many partygoers as will let him, which is everyone here.

"Skilled, isn't he?"

The man who says this is Chantal's father. Chantal is my girlfriend. He's wearing the same navy suit as the rest of the crowd and sports a royal-blue tie with a sterling silver tie bar. His hair is combed back, silver with dark streaks. From certain angles, he looks like an aging movie star with his smooth forehead and carefully manicured nails. He's only missing the permanent kiss of suntan that would make him look at home in LA.

"I guess he is."

I take a drink of my vodka tonic and scan the room. At regular intervals, the clumps of men break up into smaller clumps and then back into larger clumps. It looks like a coordinated seventh-grade dance. The only rule breaker is the guy in the purple tie. He jumps from clump to clump, leaving smiling faces along the way.

"You know," Chantal's father says. He presses closer. His sugary breath hits me and my stomach flips. "That could be you when you graduate from Columbia."

"A candidate?"

"No. We don't support candidates. We support politicians."

This I know to be true. Every politician he has supported in recent years is now in government at the federal level. Purple-tie guy is next. I am to be the one after him.