Never Too Rich (22 page)

“
Now, darling,” she said brightly,
returning to her husband and Edwina with a rustle of black silk and
velvet. “Please, do tell us what is the matter.”

Edwina stared daggers at her through narrowed eyes.
Then she turned to Antonio. “You two really know how to use
people,” she said bitterly, “don’t you?”

Antonio raised an eyebrow. “Please?” he said,
reverting to the quizzical expression of the non-native-born, an
almost certain indication of stress.

“
I suppose you’ll register
additional confusion and surprise when I tell you that it’s about
all those hints you kept dropping. The ones about my becoming your
number two when Rubio died.” When Antonio didn’t respond, she
couldn’t help the ugly laugh that rose in her throat. “Well, I’ve
got to hand it to you, Antonio. You really had me
fooled.”

“
Ah.
Now
I think I
understand,” said Anouk, taking over. She placed a soothing hand on
Edwina’s arm.

Edwina shook her off and continued to glare
accusingly at Antonio. “How dare you?” Her voice was oddly quiet.
“How
dare
you dangle bait in front of me, only to jerk it
away at the last moment.” She turned to Anouk. “And you. Did you
invite me only to provide the evening’s entertainment?”

Anouk didn’t so much as blink, but something under
her smooth skin subtly rearranged itself. It was almost as if a
monstrous being that inhabited her body was struggling to contort
itself into its real form. “Really, darling,” she said calmly,
“there’s no reason to upset yourself like this. As you know, Klas
has
been employed longer than you, and you must admit he
does have seniority.”

Edwina wasn’t mollified. “How,” she demanded of
Antonio, her voice shaking,
“how
could you promise
Rubio—practically on his deathbed!—that I’d take over for him, and
then, the moment he’s dead, go back on your word?”

Antonio didn’t reply, and his eyes shied guiltily
away from hers.

“
Rubio?” asked Anouk, feigning
surprise.
“He
told you that?”

“
He did. And in no uncertain terms,
I might add. He did not hint about it, he came right out and told
me he’d talked it over with Antonio and that it had all been
settled.”

“
Then
that
explains your . .
. misunderstanding!” Anouk exclaimed. She looked positively
stricken. “No wonder you’re so upset. Oh, darling, I
am
sorry. You see, Rubio was so ill, the poor darling, that we simply
didn’t have the heart to add to his worries by telling him
otherwise. We know how fond you were of each other, and what high
hopes he had for you. Surely you can’t blame us for humoring him at
the end?” Anouk paused. “Or would you rather we had upset him?” she
added softly.

Trust Anouk to have an answer for everything. Well,
let’s see if you have one for this, she thought grimly, and
pounced.

“
Then what about Antonio’s constant
hints to me? Did I, who incidentally, was not then—and who am not
now—on or even near my deathbed, need to be humored as
well?”

The split-second silence thrummed with bad
vibrations.

Then: “Antonio,” said Anouk, “did seriously consider
you for the position. Didn’t you, darling?” Anouk glanced at her
husband, who nodded. “Both of us discussed it in detail—”

“
And let me guess! Decided that
Klas Claussen, whose sales record is nowhere near as outstanding as
mine, and who happens to be a cokehead to boot, fits the bill best?
Were those the kinds of details you discussed? Were those the
deciding factors?”

Anouk’s face was expressionless, but her voice was a
blade. “What you and Klas do for recreation is neither my business
nor Antonio’s. It isn’t up to us to pry into your private lives—not
so long as they don’t impede your performance at work.”

Edwina laughed. “And you think Klas’s drug-taking
doesn’t?”

Anouk chose not to answer that. “Oh, don’t get me
wrong,” she said, continuing smoothly. “We do not condone drugs,
neither in the workplace nor elsewhere. Quite the contrary.” She
eyed Edwina shrewdly. “But who’s to say Klas really does take
drugs? Have you actually
seen
him take them?”

Edwina suddenly felt weary. She raised both hands in
defeat. “There’s no winning, is there?” she said bitterly. “You’ve
got an answer for everything.”

“
Why, yes!” Anouk said with bright
satisfaction. “I suppose I have.”

“
Only, this time you’ve misjudged
one minor detail.”

“
Oh? And which is that?”

“
You’ll have to find another victim
for your little games. In the future, it won’t be me,
Anouk.”

“
And what, may I ask, is that
supposed to mean?”

Edwina’s head swiveled, her eyes flashing lasers at
Antonio. “I’m tendering my resignation, effective as of this
moment,” she said with dignity.

Anouk’s voice was whisper-soft, but her eyes were
hard as diamonds. “I would think that over very carefully first,
were I you. Don’t be a stupid, selfish little reactionary who
thinks too highly of herself! Do you think plum jobs such as yours
grow on trees?”

Edwina stared at her.
“I’m
selfish?
I
think too highly of myself? You’ve got it all turned around,
haven’t you? Do yourself a favor, Madame de Riscal. The next time
you need a victim to toss to the wolves, feed them your precious
Klas Claussen. You won’t be sorry you did.” That said, she turned
and stabbed the button to summon the elevator.

Anouk caught her by the wrist. “We’re not quite
finished,” she hissed from beneath clenched teeth.

Edwina’s chin went up. “Oh yes we are,” she said
stubbornly.

“
You ignorant fool!” Anouk’s talons
dug in, and fury contorted her face into a mask. “What makes you
think you are so deserving and special?” she went on relentlessly.
“People are passed over for promotion all the time—for reasons of
seniority, because they haven’t proved themselves, whatever.” She
paused, her eyes aflame in their hollows. “But if you do indeed
quit, be warned. You’ll be finished in this business. You know
that, don’t you? I do not need to remind you that the fashion
community is a small one. Word spreads quickly when employees are .
. . undependable.”

The challenge stung in Edwina’s ears. “Anouk,” she
demanded quietly, “are you by any chance threatening me?”

“
Darling, I never threaten. Shall
we say I’m simply enlightening you?”

“
Then listen, and listen
carefully,” Edwina said through clenched teeth while staring right
into those blazing old, old eyes. “I’ve always done as I liked, and
I’ll keep doing as I like. In a word—
fuck off.”

“
Really!” Anouk tinkled with amused
laughter. “You’ll give up your enormous salary, lavish expense
account, generous bonuses, and liberal employee’s discount? Not to
mention the social cachet that comes with the position? Darling,
don’t make me laugh!”

“
I’m not trying to,
darling.”
Edwina mimicked one of Anouk’s venomously sweet
smiles with perfection. “We wouldn’t want to stretch that
lifted-to-death old skin of yours too much, would we?”

Anouk let go of Edwina’s wrist as if she’d been
scalded. “You bitch!” she hissed. She was trembling with rage and
her neck cords were as tense as metal cables. “You’re
through!”
she added in a trembling whisper.
“Through!”

“
And now,” Edwina said tightly, “if
you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave.”

“
Yes,” Anouk said glacially, “I
think that would be very wise. I shall inform R.L. that you are
going. Come, Antonio! This young lady and we have nothing more to
say to one another.” Head held high and features frozen, Anouk slid
her arm through her husband’s and together they imperiously swept
back into their glittering time capsule of an apartment.

Trembling, Edwina waited for the elevator, fighting
to hold back her tears. Everything she’d worked for all these years
was suddenly gone. In minutes.

R.L. found her looking like a collapsed rag doll,
her head bent back, her eyes shut, her back slumped against the
wall.

He had an overwhelming urge to envelop her
protectively within his arms, but wasn’t sure how she’d react to
it. He pushed the urge away. “Eds.” His voice was gentle.

She opened her eyes, turned toward him, and tried
heroically to smile and square her shoulders. But it was like
fighting gravity. The moment her lips and shoulders rose, they
sagged pathetically again. Her smile was bleak. “Aren’t you going
to congratulate me on ruining a perfectly good evening?”

“
You didn’t ruin anything,” he
said. “You must have had a damn good reason for behaving as you
did.” His voice suddenly turned angry. “What the hell happened in
there?”

She swallowed convulsively. “I ... I can’t talk
about it now, R.L.” Her eyes were pleading.

He looked at her wordlessly.

“
Go on back in, R.L.,” she said
wearily. “I’ve done enough to ruin your evening. I . . . I’ll be
okay.”

“
No!” he whispered with soft
vehemence. “You’re not okay, and you haven’t ruined
anything.”

Quickly she turned away. She, Edwina G. Robinson,
the born soldier of female equality, the lady executive who’d
proudly stomped into the everyday dog-eat-dog world of
male-dominated business and had stood on her own, who had always
prided herself on swimming upstream and whose single most cherished
possession was her own fierce independence; she, more than anyone,
didn’t want concern and pity—or help. Not now or ever. Not from
anyone. Not even R.L.

“
Eds. Hey . . .” He took her face
in both his hands and with forcible gentleness made her turn back
around to face him.

By reflex, her hands flew up and scrabbled to remove
his.

Ignoring her grasping fingers, he kept holding her
face.

Her fingers clawed at his.

“
Hey,” he said, “it’s me—R.L. What
are you trying to do? Break my fingers?”

His words unexpectedly soothed. Her fingers stilled.
For a second, not a muscle in her body twitched, not an eyelash so
much as blinked.

“
That’s better,” he said, and
kissed her chastely on the forehead.

The touch of his lips threw her into a new state of
confusion. Conflicting emotions collided, fought for supremacy
within her. His hands, still cupped around her face, were something
she didn’t want, yet something she desperately needed and
craved.

Suddenly the unbearable pressure inside her was
expelled in a long, slow sigh. Her skin tingled and it was as if
she were seeing him—really seeing him—for the very first time.

Moments of weakness can be times of reckoning.

The longer she stared at him, the more her feelings
underwent a metamorphosis.

From experience, she had categorized men into two
distinct groups. There were studs and there were gentlemen. But
R.L. broke the mold; he was both. There was something about him
that was strong and at the same time gentle. Vital and yet
soothing. Sensuous and sexual, but still somehow brimming with
kindness.

It would be so easy to depend on him, she thought. A
surge of futility and anger shot through her.
Too
easy.
Hasn’t experience taught me that the only person I can depend on is
myself?

“
I don’t know about you,” he said
softly, “but I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. You know, the kind
who leaves with the girl he came with?” Then he smiled that
lopsided boyish smile that lit up his face and brought sunshine to
rainy days. “Anyway, there’s no room for argument on that point.”
As though to emphasize his words, the elevator arrived.

He ached for her as they rode down in the gleaming
cage. His heart had not only gone out to her—it had been neatly
kidnapped. For under all Edwina’s glossy makeup, extravagant
bouquets of Botticelli hair, and extroverted sophistication, there
was a vulnerable core that he, a kindred spirit, recognized
instantly—and which plucked at his heartstrings.

Once outside on Fifth Avenue, Edwina’s waning
composure abruptly burst. Sagging against R.L. under the creamy
canopy, she hugged her bare arms tightly around him and leaned her
head sideways against his chest. “Oh, R.L.,” she moaned softly,
“just hold me. For a moment?” Her arms tightened into a bear hug of
surprising strength.

“
I’m holding you, baby,” he
murmured into her ear, all the while stroking the back of her head.
“I’m with you all the way.”

Suddenly she raised her head, and the tears that had
welled up in her eyes now trickled down her cheeks in rivulets.
Winter’s icy wind tugged at the ruffles of her emerald-green skirt,
lifting the edges to reveal a delicate pale pink lining as fragile
as her own taut nerves. “I need you,” she breathed up at him,
oblivious of the assaulting cold and her chattering teeth.

“
First things first.” Smiling, he
gently extricated himself from her and took off his dinner jacket.
He draped it around her bare shoulders. “You forgot your coat,” he
said softly. “You can wait for me inside the lobby. I’ll be back in
a flash.”

“
No!” Edwina’s voice was sharp.
“Don’t leave me.” She caught him by the wrist and wouldn’t let go.
“Ruby can pick it up tomorrow.” Then her face clouded over and she
gave a humorless snort of a laugh. “No, come to think of it, she
won’t have to. Anouk will probably have it delivered by one of her
minions first thing in the morning. Maybe even tonight. Just
another one of the caring hostess’s many little personal gestures,
you understand.”