Chapter 1: On a December evening, Leighton DeWitt, real estate broker and marketing director of a New York firm, finishes work after hours in her empty office. Jason Law, popular aging star of British television, stumbles in mistakenly assuming the real estate office is connected to the auction house. Eventually recognizing the actor, Leighton is disturbed by her unusual lack of composure.
Chapter Two
Moving into the small conference room after him, she closed the heavy glass door out of habit rather than necessity as he slid his coat down on one chair and respectfully waited for her to seat herself in another. She slipped in quickly at the head of the table to encourage him to be seated as well. But the actor continued to stand, still looking at her. Finally he sat down, much to her relief. She noticed he’d taken another quick glance at her before busying himself with his coat and settling at the conference table. She wanted to nudge him with a subtle reference to manners and staring, but of course he was the client so he could do as he pleased; up to a point. She dropped her eyes to collect her thoughts and her nerves. She didn’t like that anxious habit but couldn’t resist breaking away.
Manners aside, she wasn’t sure she was ready for Jason Law at the end of a long day. And in addition, there was a lengthy list of real estate requirements that still had to be satisfied. Ridgeley’s was the brand to be sold first, then her own qualifications followed, and finally the offer of the actual real estate to seal the deal. The whole process took a lot more out of her than she wanted to part with at this hour. She was tempted to say it would be easier for them both if she just told him what to do; although she knew all of the sales steps were an essential part of his education. And she had to admit, even if he wasn’t going to buy anything and even though it was the end of a long day, she’d have a good story to tell her colleagues tomorrow if nothing else.
“DeWitt; Dutch; means ‘the blond’. You’re married to a blond Dutchman.” Jason started to speak before Leighton had a chance to begin the interview. She saw his glance drop to the rings on her left hand.
“That’s the only time anyone’s gotten the Dutch right,” she answered in surprise. She felt the back of her rings with the tip of her left thumb struggling not to look down. In an attempt to confirm her marital status while seemingly referring to her ancestry she answered, “Yes, I’m married; but not to a Dutchman.” He looked surprised. “Even back in the 1600’s it was common for Dutch women to keep their maiden names. It wasn’t an easy choice when I made it years ago, though. But how did you know DeWitt means the blond?” she asked, pulling herself back to the present.
“I know a few Dutch words. So which one is it; your father or mother.” He made it sound more like a statement than a question.
“Both,” she answered quickly.
“Good God! That sounds positively incestuous!”
“Not the same name,” she corrected him. “Both had Dutch lineage.”
“Well no wonder you ended up selling Manhattan real estate! Your ancestors stole this island from the Indians for a pitiful handful of beads, and now you’re selling it back to anyone you can find who’ll pay the market price. No one can say the Dutch aren’t enterprising,” he added with a chuckle and a little smile. Leighton could tell he was having a good time seemingly at her expense; but she was starting to enjoy herself too, though she wasn’t going to let him know it.
“Not so, Mr. Law” she countered. “My ancestors were doctors and lawyers so they kept people healthy and civil.” The actor’s famous thick black eyebrows drew together, two straight charcoal smudges in sharp contrast with his thick white hair. “They ferried across the river when your relatives pushed them off the island and set their homes on fire in 1654.” Leighton ignored his irritation as he placed his fingertips together and narrowed his eyes before he spoke.
“History from the point of view of the underdog always looks different” he returned. “But don’t you find it odd that the natives disappeared so quickly from the shores of New Amsterdam, Ms. DeWitt?” The actor’s heavily accented diction had suddenly slowed for emphasis. Continued under ‘Novel’ tab above.
By Sidney S. Stark