Love under contract (19 page)

“What is it that you actually feel for me?” he asked suddenly. He wanted to know. She turned and looked at him, astonished. “Ah, you were out with David,” she said and her voice sounded far less sleepy than a few seconds earlier. She had always noticed that David didn’t like her very much. A greater safety net had to be set up, she realized, so that he wouldn’t pose such questions. Wasn’t it enough that she had come back to him mid-week?

“Yes, that too. But you have to feel something for me; you sleep with me, you live here  . . .” He looked into her eyes. “Isn’t it enough that I’m already here in the middle of the week?” she asked. She felt sick and was more comfortable in New York than in Paris, but she didn’t tell him that. “Well, maybe you didn’t have more to do this week? Come on, it can’t be that difficult ?!” Did he really want to know? What if she didn’t love him?

Zara knew that this was the time that she had to lie a little. That he didn’t matter to her at all would be a lie, since vengeful feelings were feelings nonetheless. She touched his cheek with her hand and shifted her body so that she half lay on him; he felt her weight, her skin, and he noticed that she wanted to evade the answer – was it so difficult for her to have any kind of feelings for him? It was as if a stone was lying on his chest. But then she looked at him, kissed him, and said, “I wouldn’t be here, not even for a lot of money, if I didn’t want to be, didn’t want you,” and smiled self-consciously. He pulled her to him, even more closely.  Expanding on the “wanting” shouldn’t be too difficult, he thought to himself, satisfied. David was an idiot. Why wasn’t his friend happy for him?

When he woke up he heard Zara in the bathroom . She had left all the doors open and he could hear vomiting noises. He got up, put on his gray bathrobe and headed to the bathroom, where he found her sitting on the floor, with an ashen face, trembling. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked, and remembered that she had also been sick in the morning last weekend. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” He stroked her hair tenderly.

She felt really awful and if she didn’t know that it was impossible, she would have thought that she was pregnant. It went away after a while and she got up and took a shower.

Gregor wanted to bring her tea, and as he saw her standing naked in the shower, with her wet hair, it occurred to him that she might be pregnant. He remembered their conversation in the bar a few weeks before; could it be? As if struck by lightning he remained standing at the bathroom door watching her, as she dried herself. She didn’t see him.

He thought his heart would burst. He loved her. He never wanted to lose her.

Zara stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself naked, and had to smile at the thought that she had the first time she threw up in the morning, that she might be pregnant. The doctor had told her at that time that it was as improbable as a blind person regaining sight. She didn’t have to be concerned, so for the last ten years she rarely used protection, only with those that she didn’t know at all, for other reasons, such as AIDS. Nonetheless, she asked herself the hypothetical question, what if?

That would be a stroke of fate – and she looked at one of the rings that Gregor had given her in the last weeks. Yes, if she really were pregnant, she would forget about her campaign for vengeance and stay with him. It would be fate, and she believed in fate. But that was all hypothetical and nonsense. She wasn’t pregnant and would never be. She would leave him soon – at the next opportunity, since it was time and he would never forget this. She would break his heart, as he had broken her mother’s.

She turned around and saw him at the door. She knew that he thought she was pregnant. She would let him believe it a little while longer.

Gregor didn’t trust himself to ask, but he was watching her. As they were going to lunch the following day they stopped in front of a large department store window, with a variety of designer items on display; Zara’s gaze rested on the tiny designer baby-clothes.

She was good, so very good  -- he’ll fall, he’ll fall deep. She had already noticed that his attitude had changed after that morning; he was even more attentive than before.

Gregor embraced her and kissed her intensely. “Hey, Doctor Levy, what’s up?” she laughed, seemingly carefree. She knew, of course, and was a little surprised, because he didn’t seem as if he would want children already.  He smiled and held her tight at her waist.  “Nothing.” No, he wanted to wait until she told him.

They walked by the large Tiffany window on their way to the corner, where Levin waited with the car. They would be attending the large annual LHM Ball that evening, the first time they would appear in public as a couple.

Zara stopped in front of the window. She loved jewelry, a trait she had inherited from her mother. There lay a sapphire and diamond Y-necklace, which was simply splendid. The blue of the sapphires alone left her breathless, and she knew that if she stayed with him, she would have that necklace too.

Gregor stopped to look with her. “I didn’t know that you were a Tiffany-fan,” he said merrily. “Hmm, yes, I’ve watched
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
countless times. Some people say that I look a little like Audrey Hepburn.” He laughed. “Yes, my Sweet, that you do, although . . .I wasn’t really an Audrey Hepburn fan . . .” “You had something more voluptuous in mind?” He lifted his index finger threateningly, “Don’t be so fresh . . .” He drew her to him and kissed her. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Under the pretense that Gregor had to return to the office, he instructed Levin to take Zara home alone. Gregor had something else in mind. He went into Tiffany’s. He had arranged for this visit earlier because he was interested in buying something special. The manager himself greeted him.  “Doctor Levy . . .” This wasn’t his first visit to Tiffany’s. “How can I help you today?”  Gregor smiled. “An engagement ring.” The manager raised his eyebrows. “For Madame Zara Valois?” They had obviously been gossiped about in all of New York. “You are correct.” He waved to a young saleswoman, who approached. “Juliette, can you please show Doctor Levy our special collection.”

Gregor had no idea how many engagement rings there were, but nothing really appealed to him. It had to be something very unusual. The manager then brought Gregor a box with very rare rings – and there it was: a rose-colored diamond ring, 6 karats, very large – the perfect ring for his princess.

Gregor was still waiting for his package to be wrapped when he heard a familiar voice behind him. He turned around and saw Robert.

Robert was wearing sports clothes and was looking for a birthday gift for his mother. He had already recognized Gregor at the entrance.

He saw the ring and grinned at Gregor. “I assume that’s an engagement ring . . .” “Hello, Robert.”  Gregor wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about running into Robert here. Robert was still grinning. “I’ve already heard the gossip and at first I couldn’t believe it. You and that crazy blueblood?” “You know everything anyway,” Gregor grumbled. Robert nodded and watched as the ring was being wrapped. “Not bad, but be careful; she breaks hearts by the dozen – we’ll see if you have better luck . . .” Gregor was silent. Robert patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, maybe you’re the right one!” Robert doubted, however, that there was a “right one” for Zara. He had heard rumors and in the meantime he believed that he had been lucky to get away early in the game, and without too much pain in the heart. Gregor took the ring and after a brief good-by, he left the store.

Her French hairdresser was still doing her hair and she was still in her silk kimono. Gregor looked in on his way to his study. Wasn’t she dressed yet? That was so unlike her.

“Zara, I have to be on time, hurry up!” Zara looked in the mirror and saw him standing there in his tuxedo shirt and trousers, his tie not yet tied. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

She had her hair blown out in unrestrained curls and now went to get the dress that was still in its wrappings in her closet.

She tossed her coat over a chair, and Gregor’s coat, which he had been wearing that afternoon, fell to the floor. She bent down to pick it up and a small light blue box fell out of the pocket.

Zara was curious. She knew right away that it was from Tiffany’s. The color, Tiffany blue, was known to every woman. With one flick of the wrist she opened the box. There it lay on its velvet cushion. It was an engagement ring without a doubt, in fact, an amazingly beautiful one, she decided, as the diamond sparkled. Not inexpensive, she thought to herself, quite amused.

She closed the box quickly and put the ring back into his coat pocket.

She sighed. So that was it. When was he planning to ask her? She didn’t want to go as far as she had with Robert again. Well, one good thing about this ending was that the constant flights between New York and Paris would stop – and then after all these years she could pitch her tent in Paris again and call an end to her performance here.

But first she wanted to provide Gregor with an unforgettable evening. She took the dress out of the white garment bag and slipped it on. And when she left him then, he would always think of her.

And so she appeared on the stairs – and she looked fantastic. The dress was a bronze color, floor-length with a train, slit up the front to mid-thigh, cut like a ballgown, with pleated ruffles, and the bodice likewise had ruffles. It was an erotic southern dream. Her hair was curled, with a side-part, and she stuck a bronze-colored flower behind her ear.  She had chosen strappy sandals with high heels that matched her dress.

Their joint appearance at the Ball immediately provided fodder for discussion, and they became the topic of the evening. Zara, as always, was perfect. In her beautiful dress, she danced the entire evening, not only with Gregor, but with the executives of the company, the important clients, lawyers, and diverse male and female models. She was the star of the night – exactly as Gregor had expected.

He stood off to the side with David and drank a glass of water. The night was long and he felt a bit tired. Zara, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the evening, especially joking around with the French models, all of whom she knew very well.

David leaned against the bar and watched Gregor, who looked at Zara as if enchanted. He sighed. An hour ago, he had overheard a noteworthy conversation; maybe he should tell Gregor about it. But he probably wouldn’t believe him.

“She’s very beautiful tonight,” David said slowly and thoughtfully. “Yes, that she is.” Gregor watched her dance, her face seemed to shine, her skin was like gold, her lips made him crazy, her hair spun in the air when she turned. She would become his wife, the mother of his child. His heart beat faster.

“I’m going to marry her,” Gregor said. David wrinkled his forehead. “The year isn’t over yet.” “But she’ll say yes nonetheless.” David sighed. “How do you know that?” Gregor smiled. “I think she’s pregnant.” David couldn’t help himself, he automatically put his hand against his forehead and said, “Gregor!” completely shocked. “What? Yes, I love her,” Gregor admitted, and looked at his friend. “And probably since you saw her for the first time,” David sighed. He had to tell him what he had heard about Zara, especially now, before Gregor made himself look like a clown, like Robert. “That may be.” Gregor smiled, as he saw Zara in an embrace with a dark-haired model. “She behaves like a little girl when she’s with these models,” he observed, amused.

“Gregor, are you listening to me at all?” David asked. “Sure, what’s the matter?” David, this pessimist, is wrong, Gregor thought, and looked at his friend. “I’ve heard things about Zara which you may not want to hear,” he said and his voice trembled a little. “Oh, what gossip have you heard now?” Gregor said dismissively. “She is a party-girl, she’s at home at every party in London and Paris and it’s been months since she worked as an attorney.” David gave only a brief report about what he had heard from different people . . . and it wasn’t a big secret here. Every model and photographer from Paris knew Zara. What private detective could overlook that?

Gregor looked at David angrily. “Oh, don’t bother me with that trashy gossip! Most of them are just jealous!” He made a gesture with his hand and walked over to Zara. David expected this kind of reaction and stayed back, sighing. What should he do?

The Ball lasted ‘til the morning hours, when Gregor embraced Zara passionately in a quiet moment in front of all the guests who had soldiered on until this point in time. She kissed him, sitting on a table with her legs wrapped around him – and everyone understood that she was the CEO’s new lover, and some of the women’s hearts were heavy that he was again already spoken for.

She whispered softly into his ear that he should follow her and he did, as if hypnotized. Gregor had had a bit to drink and she, in her sexy dress, was in an exceedingly good mood. He followed her into a dressing room and there she lifted her skirt and offered herself to him. How could he resist her? He could see her in the mirrored walls that surrounded them, her green eyes, her sensual mouth, and the forbidden parts did the rest.

As the night became day, they arrived at his house. Zara left her dress on the stairs and was completely naked, except for her high heels. He couldn’t resist her, she was so beautiful, with the flowers in her hair, the high heels, the figure of a dancer, she sat in front of him on the chair and stretched out her arms toward him.

He stood before her, in his tuxedo, the tie already dangling from his neck. She unbuttoned his shirt; her fingers were already on his cummerbund. Before he knew it, he was naked. She wrapped her legs around him and drew him to her. “Doctor Levy, I hope you aren’t tired . . .” She had a surprise for him, the last one, before she climbed into the plane to Paris later today, and flew to another man. . .

He smiled. What did she have in mind, he asked himself. She made a motion with her head, leaning toward the bed. “Come, I have a surprise for you,” she whispered and ran her fingers through his blond hair. He was really handsome, everything about him was perfect, she thought. She pulled herself up and took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom – and he saw another woman lying in the bed. That couldn’t possibly be happening!