Greater Heights

Chapter 1 It wasn’t a dress she would have chosen for herself. Riley Davenport-Westin looked at the gold lame’ halter gown, the heavy gold choker and matching earrings that dangled from her ears. She could not deny that the dress flattered her blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes. The gown draped perfectly over her tall, evenly proportioned figure. There was no question about it. Aside from that, there was nothing of her in the dress. She cocked her head to one side as she gave one final check in the full-length mirror before seating herself at her vanity to apply her makeup. Riley’s husband Paine Chandler Westin IV had the dress sent over the day before from one of New York’s exclusive boutiques just for this night’s occasion. The package arrived without warning. She opened it to find the dress, jewelry, shoes and hosiery - perfectly matched and each in exactly her size. Packages of this nature were not uncommon to Riley. When she received the first one just a few weeks after their wedding, Riley was not only elated over such a grand gesture by her new husband, but also surprised that a man would pay so much attention to details about her. She interpreted the gift as a sign that he had quickly grown to know her so well. It was the highest compliment any man had ever paid her. Many packages later, however, she had come to identify the gifts for what they really were - gifts for him, not her. Paine was merely looking out for his self-interests, ensuring that his wife in no way embarrassed him before society. As a Westin and a fourth generation heir to the family fortune, he went to great lengths to protect his family and his good name from disgrace or scandal. So it was necessary that she be dressed appropriately, befitting her role as his wife. Riley skillfully and lightly brushed copper-colored powder across one cheek, then the other. She looked at the clock on her vanity. Paine insisted that she always arrive at least five minutes early, no matter the occasion. It was a lesson she had learned early in their marriage. She remembered the first time she had run late. She had arrived no more than five minutes after one of his parents’ dinner parties at their country estate was scheduled to begin. Riley, a television reporter, had gotten held up at work and did not even stop to freshen up before dinner. Regardless, Paine had found it unacceptable. He accused her of being disrespectful to him and his parents. He severely admonished her for hours after they returned home. Then he packed, left early the next morning for a week-long business trip and did not call her the entire week he was gone. Even after he returned home, he scolded her once more and warned her never to let it happen again. She hadn’t. Since then, Riley had declined engagements for which she even remotely suspected that her punctuality would be a problem. She carefully planned her schedule to allow for social engagements that were particularly important to Paine, those where appearances might weigh heavily. Tonight happened to be one of those occasions. Riley was keenly aware of the consequences of any wrong moves tonight. With each stroke of her mascara brush, Riley was careful to get it evenly and perfectly applied. Paine would thoroughly scrutinize her upon her arrival. The gala was a gathering of business partners, politicians and dignitaries from throughout New York and abroad. She had come to dread having Paine lean over and whisper in her ear the short list of flaws that he found in her appearance. Even more, she despised the supercilious smile on his face when he withdrew after citing to her a quick inventory of her imperfections. He seemed to take great pleasure in privately downgrading her. After each critique, she would shrivel inside next to him as he stood tall, smug and proud at having shared his opinion of her polished efforts. In his eyes, she could clearly see her tarnished image. But her failures, her flaws represented a well-kept secret between them. While secrets draw some people closer, they have the ability to drive other people farther apart. Paine never shared Riley’s shortcomings with others in her presence. And to her knowledge, he had never criticized her to others outside of her presence. No, just the opposite. Riley was the only person who was made aware that she failed to measure up to Paine’s high standards. In public, he stayed close to her and clung to her, showing off her beauty and notoriety as a popular television reporter like a trophy he’d won. She was paraded around with his many other trophies. He had a successful career as a New York investor and developer, wealth, an Ivy League education, and respected breeding and position in society. She belonged to him. Her achievements belonged to him. And he never missed an opportunity in the six years of their marriage to remind her. At an early point in their six years of marriage, his initial tenderness and affection had transformed into a tethered attachment between them. She could make few moves or decisions that went untouched by Paine. More often, she was prohibited from having the opportunity to use her mind, to make her own choices or to make plans separate from Paine. Whenever Riley mustered the courage to exercise any independence by making a decision or plotting her own course, Paine reduced her to a fragment of herself with a critical look or a stern word of disapproval. In the past year, Paine had begun skipping the looks and the harsh scoldings. He had moved to grabbing her arm and pulling her to him so that he could draw his face just inches from her, and terrorize her with his firm threats and, sometimes, his yelling. He would draw so close to her that she could feel his breath with every syllable. He would grip her arm tightly, leaving bruises that needed to be covered for weeks. The last time she had angered him, it was over a meal she had served. She liked steamed zucchini. He did not. The fact that she had put it on the table with the rest of the meal threw him into a tirade. He ranted that he was offended because she had shown him no consideration. Why would she deliberately prepare a dish that he had no desire to eat and serve it when he was there, when she should know how just the appearance of it was upsetting to him, he ranted. The discussion escalated until Paine stood up, walked to her end of the table, grabbed her face with one hand, scooped up handfuls of hot zucchini with his other hand and shoved them into her mouth. “You like zucchini enough to disrespect me, then here. YOU eat it. Eat it!” he said. Riley fought him, slapping his food-filled hand away. As his fingers pinched her face and brought tears to her eyes, she locked her teeth together to block the food and prevent him from choking her. All the while, she looked into the eyes of a raging monster. Where was the man who had promised to love, honor and keep her? The beast that dug his fingers into her cheeks did not at all resemble her husband. His tan face had turned beet red. His steely blue eyes were penetratingly wild. His full, heart-shaped lips were thin and stretched over clenched teeth. The nostrils of his straight and perfectly defined nose flared. His otherwise neatly combed hair showed signs of dishevelment as wisps of hair fell forward over his forehead. After several attempts to force-feed her, Paine released his grip on Riley’s cheeks, calmly shook zucchini from his hand, then picked up Riley’s linen napkin and methodically wiped his soiled hand clean. After surveying the table one last time, he cast a look of disgust at her. Without a word, he left the room, left the mess and left her sobbing and distraught over what had just happened. She sat in a puddle of wilted zucchini and humiliation with absolutely no idea what to do next, except clean up the mess. She was both stunned and too numb to move. She feared facing him ag