The Stars Shine Down (19 page)

“Quick! Make a wish,” Philip said.

Lara closed her eyes and was silent for a moment.

“Did you make your wish?”

“Yes.”

“What did you wish for?”

Lara looked up at him and said seriously, “I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”
I’m going to make it come true,
Lara thought.

Philip leaned back and smiled at Lara. “This is perfect, isn’t it?”

“It can always be this way, Philip.”

“What do you mean?”

“We could get married.”

And there it was, out in the open. He had been thinking of nothing else for the past few days. He was deeply in love with Lara, but he knew he could not make a commitment to her.

“Lara, that’s impossible.”

“Is it? Why?”

“I’ve explained it to you, darling. I’m almost always on tour like this. You couldn’t travel with me all the time, could you?”

“No,” Lara said, “but…”

“There you are. It would never work. Tomorrow in Paris, I’ll show you…”

“I’m not going to Paris with you, Philip.”

He thought he had misunderstood her. “What?”

Lara took a deep breath. “I’m not going to see you again.”

It was like a blow to the stomach. “Why? I love you, Lara. I…”

“And I love you. But I’m not a groupie. I don’t want to be just another one of your fans, chasing you around. You can have all those you want.”

“Lara, I don’t want anyone but you. But don’t you see, darling, our marriage could never work. We have separate lives that are important to both of us. I would want us to be together all the time, and we couldn’t be.”

“That’s it then, isn’t it?” Lara said tightly. “I won’t see you again, Philip.”

“Wait. Please! Let’s talk about this. Let’s go to your room, and…”

“No, Philip. I love you very much, but I won’t go on like this. It’s over.”

“I don’t want it to be over,” Philip insisted. “Change your mind.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. It’s all or nothing.”

They were silent the rest of the way back to their hotel. When they reached the lobby, Philip said, “Why don’t I come up to your room? We can talk about this and…”

“No, my darling. There’s nothing more to talk about.”

He watched Lara get into the elevator and disappear.

When Lara reached her suite, the telephone was ringing. She hurried to pick it up. “Philip…”

“It’s Howard. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

She managed to hide her disappointment. “Is anything wrong?”

“No. Just checking in. There’s a lot going on around here. When do you think you’ll be coming back?”

“Tomorrow,” Lara said. “I’ll be back in New York tomorrow.” Slowly, Lara replaced the receiver.

She sat there, staring at the telephone, willing it to ring. Two hours later, it was still silent.
I made a mistake
, Lara thought miserably.
I gave him an ultimatum, and I lost him. If I had only waited…If only I had gone to Paris with him…if…if…
She tried to visualize her life without Philip. It was too painful to think about.
But we can’t go on this way
, Lara thought.
I want us to belong to each other.
Tomorrow she would have to return to New York.

Lara lay down on the couch, fully dressed, the telephone by her side. She felt drained. She knew it would be impossible to get any sleep.

She slept.

In his room Philip was pacing back and forth like a caged animal. He was furious with Lara, furious with himself. He could not bear the thought of not seeing her again, not holding her in his arms.
Damn all women!
he thought. His parents had warned him.
“Your life is music. If you want to be the best, there’s no room for anything else.”
And until he met Lara, he had believed it. But now everything had changed.
Damn it! What we had was wonderful. Why did she have to destroy it?
He loved her, but he knew he could never marry her.

Lara was awakened by the ringing of the telephone. She sat up on the couch, groggy, and looked at the clock on the
wall. It was five o’clock in the morning. Sleepily, Lara picked up the telephone.

“Howard?”

It was Philip’s voice. “How would you like to get married in Paris?”

T
he marriage of Lara Cameron to Philip Adler made headlines around the world. When Howard Keller heard the news, he went out and got drunk for the first time in his life. He had kept telling himself that Lara’s infatuation with Philip Adler would pass.
Lara and I are a team. We belong together. No one can come between us.
He stayed drunk for two days, and when he sobered up, he telephoned Lara in Paris.

“If it’s true,” he said, “tell Philip I said he’s the luckiest man who ever lived.”

“It’s true,” Lara assured him brightly.

“You sound happy.”

“I’ve never been happier in my life!”

“I…I’m pleased for you, Lara. When are you coming home?”

“Philip is giving a concert in London tomorrow, and then we’ll be back in New York.”

“Did you talk to Paul Martin before the wedding?”

She hesitated. “No.”

“Don’t you think you should do it now?”

“Yes, of course.” She had been more concerned about that than she wanted to admit to herself. She was not sure how he was going to take the news of her marriage. “I’ll talk to him when I get back.”

“I’ll sure be glad to see you. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Howard.” And it was true. He was very dear. He had always been a good and loyal friend.
I don’t know what I would have done without him,
Lara thought.

When the 727 taxied up to the Butler Aviation Terminal at New York’s La Guardia Airport, the press was there in full force. There were newspaper reporters and television cameras.

The airport manager led Lara and Philip into the reception office. “I can sneak you out of here,” he said, “or…”

Lara turned to Philip. “Let’s get this over with, darling. Otherwise, they’ll never let us have any peace.”

“You’re probably right.”

The press conference lasted for two hours. “Where did you two meet…?”

“Have you always been interested in classical music, Mrs. Adler…?”

“How long have you known each other…?”

“Are you going to live in New York…?”

“Will you give up your touring, Mr. Adler…?”

Finally, it was over.

There were two limousines waiting for them. The second one was for luggage.

“I’m not used to traveling in this kind of style,” Philip said.

Lara laughed. “You’ll get used to it.”

When they were in the limousine, Philip asked, “Where are we going? I have an apartment on Fifty-seventh Street…”

“I think you might be more comfortable at my place, darling. Look it over, and if you like it, we’ll have your things moved in.”

They arrived at the Cameron Plaza. Philip looked up at the huge building.

“You
own
this?”

“A few banks and I.”

“I’m impressed.”

Lara squeezed his arm. “Good. I want you to be.”

The lobby had been freshly decorated with flowers. A half dozen employees were waiting to greet them.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Adler, Mr. Adler.”

Philip looked around and said, “My God! All this is yours?”

“Ours,
sweetheart.”

The elevator took them up to the penthouse. It covered the whole forty-fifth floor. The door was opened by the butler.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Adler.”

“Thank you, Simms.”

Lara introduced Philip to the rest of the staff and showed him through the duplex penthouse. There was a large white drawing room, filled with antiques, a large enclosed terrace, a dining room, four master bedrooms and three staff bedrooms, six bathrooms, a kitchen, a library, and an office.

“Do you think you could be comfortable here, darling?” Lara asked.

Philip grinned. “It’s a little small—but I’ll manage.”

In the middle of the drawing room was a beautiful new Bechstein piano. Philip walked over to it and ran his fingers over the keys.

“It’s wonderful!” he said.

Lara moved to his side. “It’s your wedding present.”

“Really?” He was touched. He sat down at the piano and began to play.

“I just had it tuned for you.” Lara listened as the cascade of notes filled the room. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! Thank you, Lara.”

“You can play here to your heart’s content.”

Philip rose from the piano bench. “I’d better give Ellerbee a call,” Philip said. “He’s been trying to reach me.”

“There’s a telephone in the library, darling.”

Lara went into her office and turned on the answering machine. There were half a dozen messages from Paul Martin. “Lara, where are you? I miss you, darling”…“Lara, I assume you’re out of the country, or I would have heard from you”…“I’m worried about you, Lara. Call me…” Then the tone changed. “I just heard about your marriage. Is it true? Let’s talk.”

Philip had walked into the room. “Who’s the mysterious caller?” he asked.

Lara turned. “An…an old friend of mine.”

Philip walked up to her and put his arms around her.

“Is he someone I should be jealous of?”

Lara said softly, “You don’t have to be jealous of anyone in the world. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”
And it’s true.

Philip held her closely. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

Later that afternoon, while Philip sat at the piano, Lara went back into her office and returned Paul Martin’s telephone calls.

He came on the line almost immediately. “You’re back.” His voice was tight.

“Yes.” She had been dreading this conversation.

“I don’t mind telling you that the news was quite a shock, Lara.”

“I’m sorry, Paul…I…it happened rather suddenly.”

“It must have.”

“Yes.” She tried to read his mood.

“I thought we had something pretty good going for us. I thought it was something special.”

“It was, Paul, but…”

“We’d better talk about it.”

“Well, I…”

“Let’s make it lunch tomorrow. Vitello’s. One o’clock.” It was an order.

Lara hesitated. It would be foolish to antagonize him any further. “All right, Paul. I’ll be there.”

The line went dead. Lara sat there worried. How angry was Paul, and was he going to do anything about it?

T
he following morning when Lara arrived at Cameron Center, the entire staff was waiting to congratulate her.

“It’s wonderful news!”

“It was such a big surprise to all of us!…”

“I’m sure you’ll be very happy… ”

And on it went.

Howard Keller was waiting in Lara’s office for her. He gave her a big hug. “For a lady who doesn’t like classical music, you sure went and did it!” Lara smiled. “I did, didn’t I?”

“I’ll have to get used to calling you Mrs. Adler.”

Lara’s smile faded. “I think it might be better for business reasons if I keep using Cameron, don’t you?”

“Whatever you say. I’m sure glad you’re back. Everything is piling up here.”

Lara settled in a chair opposite Howard. “Okay, tell me what’s been happening.”

“Well, the West Side hotel is going to be a money-losing proposition. We have a buyer lined up from Texas who’s interested in it, but I went over to the hotel yesterday. It’s in terrible shape. It needs a complete refurbishing, and that’s going to run into five or six million dollars.”

“Has the buyer seen it yet?”

“No. I told him I’d show it to him tomorrow.”

“Show it to him next week. Get some painters in there. Make it look squeaky clean. Arrange for a crowd to be in the lobby when he’s there.”

He grinned. “Right. Frank Rose is here with some new sketches. He’s waiting in my office.”

“I’ll take a look at them.”

“The Midland Insurance Company that was going into the new building?”

“Yes. ”

“They haven’t signed the deal yet. They’re a little shaky.”

Lara made a note. “I’ll talk to them about it. Next?”

“Gotham Bank’s seventy-five million loan on the new project?”

“Yes? ”

“They’re pulling back. They think you’re getting overex tended.”

“How much interest were they going to charge us?”

“Seventeen percent.”

“Set up a meeting with them. We’re going to offer to pay twenty percent.”

He was looking at her, aghast. “Twenty percent? My God, Lara! No one pays twenty percent.”

“I would rather be alive at twenty percent than dead at seventeen percent. Do it, Howard.”

“All right.”

The morning went by swiftly. At twelve-thirty Lara said, “I’m going to meet Paul Martin for lunch.”

Howard looked worried. “Make sure you aren’t lunch.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s Sicilian. They don’t forgive and they don’t forget.”

“You’re being melodramatic. Paul would never do any thing to harm me.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Paul Martin was waiting for Lara at the restaurant when she arrived. He looked thin and haggard, and there were circles under his eyes, as though he had not been sleeping well.

“Hello, Lara.” He did not get up.

“Paul.” She sat down across from him.

“I left some stupid messages on your answering machine. I’m sorry. I had no idea…”He shrugged.

“I should have let you know, Paul, but it all happened so fast.”

“Yeah.” He was studying her face. “You’re looking great.”

“Thank you.”

“Where did you meet Adler?”

“In London.”

“And you fell in love with him just like that?” There was a bitter undertone to his words.

“Paul, what you and I had was wonderful, but it wasn’t enough for me. I needed something more than that. I needed someone to come home to every night.”

He was listening, watching her.

“I would never do anything in the world to hurt you, but this just…just happened.”

More silence.

“Please understand.”

“Yeah.” A wintry smile crossed his face. “I guess I have
no choice, have I? What’s done is done. It was just kind of a shock to read about it in the newspapers and see it on television. I thought we were closer man that.”

“You’re right,” Lara said again. “I should have told you.”

His hand reached out and caressed her chin. “I was crazy about you, Lara. I guess I still am. You were my
miracolo.
I could have given you anything in the world you wanted except what he could give you—a wedding ring. I love you enough to want you to be happy.”

Lara felt a wave of relief sweep through her. “Thank you, Paul.”

“When am I going to meet your husband?”

“We’re giving a party next week for our friends. Will you come?”

“I’ll be there. You tell him that he had better treat you right, or he’ll have to answer to me.”

Lara smiled. “I’ll tell him.”

When Lara returned to her office, Howard Keller was waiting for her. “How did the luncheon go?” he asked nervously.

“Fine. You were wrong about Paul. He behaved beauti fully.”

“Good. I’m glad I was wrong. Tomorrow morning I’ve set up some meetings for you with…”

“Cancel them,” Lara said. “I’m staying home with my husband tomorrow. We’re honeymooning for the next few days.”

“I’m glad you’re so happy,” Howard said.

“Howard, I’m so happy it scares me. I’m afraid that I’ll wake up and find this is all a dream. I never knew anyone could be this happy.”

He smiled. “All right, I’ll handle the meetings.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Philip and I are giving a party next week. We expect you there.”

The party took place the following Saturday at the pent house. There was a lavish buffet and more than a hundred guests. Lara had invited the men and women she worked with: bankers, builders, architects, construction chiefs, city officials, the city planners, and the heads of unions. Philip had invited his musician friends and music patrons and bene factors. The combination proved to be disastrous.

It wasn’t that the two groups did not
try
to mix. The problem was that most of them had nothing in common. The builders were interested in construction and architecture, and the musicians were interested in music and composers.

Lara introduced a city planner to a group of musicians. The commissioner stood there, trying to follow the discussion.

“Do you know what Rossini felt about Wagner’s music? One day he sat his ass on the piano keys and said, ‘That’s what Wagner sounds like to me.’ ”

“Wagner deserved it. When a fire broke out at the Ring Theater in Vienna during a performance of
Tales of Hoff mann,
four hundred people burned to death. When Wagner heard about it, he said, ‘That’s what they get for listening to an Offenbach operetta.’ ”

The commissioner hastily moved on.

Lara introduced some of Philip’s friends to a group of real estate men.

“The problem,” one of the men said, “is that you need thirty-five percent of the tenants signed up before you can go co-op.”

“If you want my opinion, that’s a pretty stupid rule.”

“I agree. I’m switching to hotels. Do you know the hotels in Manhattan now are averaging two hundred dollars a room per night? Next year…”

The musicians moved on.

Conversations seemed to be going on in two different lan guages.

“The trouble with the Viennese is that they love dead composers.…”

“There’s a new hotel going up on two parcels, between Forty-seventh and Forty-eighth streets. Chase Manhattan is financing it… ”

“He might not be the greatest conductor in the world, but his stick technique is
genau.…”

“…I remember a lot of the mavens said that the 1929 stock market crash wasn’t a bad thing. It would teach people to put their money in real estate.…”

“…and Horowitz wouldn’t play for years because he thought his fingers were made of glass…”

“…I’ve seen the plans. There’s going to be a classic base rising from three floors from Eighth Avenue, and inside an elliptical arcade with lobbies on three sides.…”

“…Einstein loved the piano. He used to play with Rubin stein, but Einstein kept playing off beat. Finally, Rubinstein couldn’t stand it anymore, and he yelled, ‘Albert, can’t you count?’…”

“…Congress must have been drunk to pass the Tax Reform Act. It’s going to cripple the building industry… ”

“…and at the end of the evening when Brahms left the party he said, ‘If there’s anyone here I’ve forgotten to insult, I apologize.’ ”

The Tower of Babel.

Paul Martin arrived alone, and Lara hurried over to the door to greet him. “I’m so glad you could come, Paul.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” He looked around the room. “I want to meet Philip.”

Lara took him over to where Philip was standing with a group. “Philip, this is an old friend of mine, Paul Martin.”

Philip held out his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

The two men shook hands.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Adler. Lara’s a remarkable woman.”

“That’s what I keep telling him.” Lara smiled.

“She doesn’t have to tell me,” Philip said. “I know how lucky I am.”

Paul was studying him. “Do you?”

Lara could feel the sudden tension in the air. “Let me get you a cocktail,” she said to Paul.

“No, thanks. Remember? I don’t drink.”

Lara bit her lip. “Of course. Let me introduce you to some people.” She escorted him around the room, introducing him to some of the guests.

One of the musicians was saying, “Leon Fleisher is giving a recital tomorrow night. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He turned to Paul Martin, who was standing next to Howard Keller. “Have you heard him play?”

“No. ”

“He’s remarkable. He plays only with his left hand, of course.”

Paul Martin was puzzled. “Why would he do that?”

“Fleisher developed carpal-tunnel syndrome in his right hand about ten years ago.”

“But how can he give a recital with one hand?”

“Half a dozen composers wrote concertos for the left hand. There’s one by Demuth, Franz Schmidt, Korngold, and a beautiful concerto by Ravel.”

Some of the guests were asking Philip to play for them.

“All right. This is for my bride.” He sat down at the piano and began to play a theme from a Rachmaninoff piano concerto. The room was hushed. Everyone seemed mesmer ized by the lovely strains that filled the penthouse. When Philip rose, there was loud applause.

An hour later the party began to break up. When they had seen the last guest to the door, Philip said, “That was quite a party.”

“You hate big parties, don’t you?” Lara said.

Philip took her in his arms and grinned. “Did it show?”

“We’ll only do this every ten years,” Lara promised. “Philip, did you have a feeling that our guests were from two different planets?”

He put his lips to her cheek. “It doesn’t matter. We have our own planet. Let’s make it spin.…”