public defender-who tried to find justice for poor people.
He didn't know of any other person who had such a strong
conscience. When Constance Westerley talked about
charity, most of her friends and family ran for cover.
Kay laughed at Constance's suggestion. "That's it! Give
all your money away, then you won't be able to boast about
it anymore." She folded her arms and nodded as though she
had just solved all his problems. "Sorry, O.E. Nobody wants
to hear you brag."
Dan jumped in to assist his friend. "You can brag to me
all you want. But don't expect me to respect you in the
morning." His attempt at a joke was greeted with groans,
then the four of them fell silent.
Kay suddenly lit up and broke the silence. "Maybe you
should try being unknown and poor."
O.E. chuckled. "Sorry, I like being known. And being
poor sucks-I'll stick with rich."
"No, I don't mean that. I mean you should hide your
name and the fact that you're rich. Then you won't be able
to flash your enormous ego." Her lip curled devilishly. "Do
you think you can woo a woman if she doesn't know who
you are-if she thinks you're a surf bum? Look, you're
already dressed for the part. Can you live it?"
O.E. smiled. He was wearing his usual outfit for this
party: surfer duds. Board shorts, a loud tank top, and flimsy
sandals. His shoulder-length blond hair completed the
casual look. At any other party, this look might fit in. But
not here. This party was a Westerley.
Most people had heard of the Westerley family-old
money with its fingers in construction, banking, and
energy. Some people also knew about the swanky parties
they threw every few months, the fabled "Westerleys." They
were always held at St. Joseph's Church, the same place
where Dan and Kay had married last night.
It might seem strange to have two parties at the same
place, two nights in a row. But the wedding had to be there.
Unlike O.E., who was just a friend of the family, Dan Avery
was a pure-blood Westerley on his mother's side-he
couldn't get married anywhere else. In fact, this particular
Westerley was intentionally scheduled for the night after
the wedding, so that it would extend the celebration into a
weekend-long bacchanalia.
Westerley parties were always split between two rooms.
The main cathedral was home to the older, stuffier, and
richer crowd. They milled about the tastefully decorated
cathedral in gowns and tuxedos. The music was a string
quartet; the food and alcohol arrived on silver platters.