He sat in his car for a moment, taking a deep, cleansing breath to steel himself for what might prove to be a challenging few hours. He had no one to blame but himself for the course he was currently on, but that had never stopped him before. No… once he decided on a course of action he followed through – even to his own detriment.
The several months he had lived in Pine Valley, Pennsylvania had been fraught with difficulties, more than he could have ever imagined when he arrived. It was hard to believe that in only ten months so many life-changing events would have occurred. To have discovered the existence of a heretofore unknown son would have been enough – but to have reacquainted himself with the love of his life, been accused of her husband's murder, and forced to face the truth about his deceased brother in that period of time made it seem as if the fates were determined to break him. Some days he even wished that he had been broken… because waking up to face each day and present a strong, enigmatic façade to the world was becoming more and more difficult.
Instead of admitting defeat after his newly found son had managed to pull the gaming licenses from his casinos, the favorites of all his business endeavors, he had decided to file suit to acquire an inheritance he had never wanted. At the tender age of 17 he had faked his own death to avoid inheriting the money, power and birthright of the Cambias fortune – now he was volunteering to place himself beneath that yoke to save his ungrateful son, Ethan Ramsey, sometimes Cambias. Had a father ever made more mistakes than he had in dealing with his son? Had a son ever felt more hatred towards his father than his son held towards him? Fortunately or unfortunately – for time would determine the final outcome – the answer to both questions was probably yes. He was still unconvinced that his son hated him more than he had hated his own father – or if the hate was the same, the level of pain that his son had managed to inflict was infinitely less than what he had done to his own father. While he had to live with his son's spiteful attempts at revenge, he had allowed his father to live – and to die – believing that his favorite child had died. That kind of pain should never be visited on another person purposefully, but he had paid penance in his own losses over the years: the mother who had died when he was a small boy, the brother he had left behind to become warped and cruel, the son he had never had the opportunity to know, the woman he had loved more than himself, the niece that he had hoped would be his salvation – all abandoning him to lead a solitary existence. If it wasn't for the games and the way he gambled with his own life, he would have no existence. Even that existence was devoid of comfort, devoid of happiness, and lacking even a single person to whom he could pass on his own accumulated wealth and power. It seemed that he was merely going through the motions of amassing riches and influence, not because he desired it for himself, but because it was the only thing that he had ever known how to do.
He shook his head and exited his car, pocketing the keys as he approached the Valley Inn with his usual long strides to attend a reception in honor of the deceased Pulitzer Prize winning journalist, Edmund Grey. The fact that Edmund Grey had been married to the only woman he had ever loved, and had been a rival for her affections, was beside the point. Also beside the point was the fact that the widow would be present to accept an award on his behalf – while he would be meeting the woman he hoped to soon make his wife… but they were not the same person.
Well… enough with the reflection and self-flagellation, he thought to himself. He would be facing a crowd of people who were certain that he had sprung full-grown from the brow of Satan himself… and he would once again show them that he was their better because he accepted his faults and the consequences of his actions. While other members of the Pine Valley power-elite searched constantly for a ready scapegoat, he labored under the burden of his name, his faults, his legacy and his curse. How easy must be their lives to always have the simple absolution of blaming others for their actions… and to delight in blaming him for their most recent trials and tribulations.
Zach Slater pasted a smile on his ruggedly handsome face as he entered the ballroom, determined that no one would realize the toll the last year had taken on his soul. He stood for a moment, scanning the room and determining the mood of his many proclaimed enemies. In one corner stood model-turned-businesswoman Erica Kane and her fiancé, attorney Jackson Montgomery conversing with his daughter Greenlee and her husband Ryan Lavery. The only member of the group that he could tolerate was Erica, and then only in small doses. Each one of them had interfered in his life and relationship with his son, and he decided to avoid them for at least a few moments. In another corner he saw the honoree's business partner and executor of his estate, Brooke English speaking with her ex-husband Tad Martin and the widow, Dr. Maria Santos-Grey. For one brief second, he and Maria locked eyes before she quickly turned her back to him and continued her conversation. He felt relieved that she had decided to maintain some distance, but the ache for his lost love never completely left him – and he doubted it ever would. It had hurt him deeply to turn her away after she had declared her love to him – but he knew that they would only continue to cause each other anguish with a renewed relationship. Her children were fragile and grieving, and blamed him for the loss of their father. He looked around and breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of those children's presence.
As he continued to scan the room, wickedly contemplating who would be his first victim, he was surprised at a soft female voice behind him, "Zach? Why are you just standing there? Come on in," Myrtle Fargate invited.
He turned and smiled genuinely at the older woman – the one and only friend that he had made in Pine Valley. Despite the enmity of nearly the entire population of the town, he found that he had passed the test of her foremost citizen. "Mrs. Fargate, I'm delighted to see you," he said with genuine warmth as he lifted her hand and brushed it lightly with his lips. "I was hoping that I'd run into you. May I escort you to your seat?"
"You can escort me anywhere you'd like, young man," she answered coyly. "But I imagine you're much more interested in spending time with Kendall than with me."
"We made no specific plans, Mrs. Fargate," Zach answered.
"Now, now, Zach… you wouldn't have come to this… uh… this little shindig if you hadn't been planning on pressing your suit with Kendall," she answered. "You know exactly what you're facing in this room full of barracudas… and Kendall is the only person who could make you tolerate them."
"The question is, will they tolerate me?" he said softly as he offered her his arm.
She smiled and took his arm as they strolled through the room, smiling and nodding to scattered groups of people. As long as he was accompanied by Myrtle Fargate, he was protected from their barbs and comments because they did not wish to offend her – which was quite funny considering that she had spent the greater part of her life traveling the country with carnivals. Her status had more to do with age and wisdom than the pedigree of the usual grande dame, but she was greatly loved and respected – although even that had not been enough to gain Zach more than tolerance by the people assembled. And he had only pretended not to notice the whispers about the impropriety of his showing up at an award ceremony for a man whose wife he had openly coveted.
"There's Kendall now… but I don't believe you expected her to arrive with an escort of her own?" Myrtle stated as they both noticed Kendall Hart entering with JR Chandler at her side.