The Wedding (16 page)

I had a great time, Jeff, she said wistfully. Thank you for a wonderful evening.

I had a good time too. For the first time in my life, I really feel as though I owe something to Andreas Weissman. They both laughed when he walked her to the elevator. How does the rest of your week look? he asked hopefully, and she shook her head with a look of disappointment.

Pretty busy. For the next four days she had lunches and meetings. She had to work on Bram's concert tour and see Jason Haverton again. The only free time she had was in the evening, but at night she'd been planning to work.

How about tomorrow night? he asked hopefully, and she hesitated. She really shouldn't.

I've got meetings at a law firm on Wall Street till five, and a drink with an attorney here after that. I don't think I'll even be free till seven, she said regretfully. She wanted to see him again, but she wasn't sure if she should because of Brandon either. But on the other hand, she told herself, there was no reason why they couldn't be friends.

Why don't I call you? See how tired you are. Maybe we could just eat something here, or go for a walk. I'd really like to see you, he said, looking at her, and she felt his meaning somewhere deep in her soul. He was asking, and he was definite, but he wasn't pushing.

You don't think it would be confusing, Jeff? she asked softly. She didn't want to be unfair to anyone, not to him, or Brandon, or herself.

It doesn't have to be, as long as we know where things stand, he said honestly. I won't press you. But I'd still like to see you again.

So would I, she nodded, and then the elevator came and they said good night.

I'll call you tomorrow at seven, he reminded her with a wave as the doors closed, and as she rode upstairs, all she could think about was Jeff. She wondered if she had been unfaithful to Brandon, just being with him, and talking about the things they had. She wouldn't have liked it if Brandon went out to dinner with another woman, and yet there had been something so seemingly predestined about this night. It was as though she had been meant to meet him, as though she needed him in her life, and they were meant to be friends. He understood so much of what she was saying, everything in fact, and she sensed what he thought too, almost before he said it.

She let herself into her room, still feeling faintly guilty, and there was a message from Brandon under the door, which seemed like a reminder of real life. She thought about calling him, and hesitated because of the hour, but it was only eleven-fifteen in San Francisco, and then, finally, she took off her coat, sat down, and dialed him. He answered on the second ring. He was working on his material for the trial the next day, and he sounded surprised that she was calling so late. But he seemed glad to hear her.

Where were you tonight? He sounded more curious than angry.

I was at the home of Haverton's agent. It broke up very late. In New York these literary types go all night. It was a lie, but she didn't want to tell him she'd gone to Elaine's, and have to explain to him who Jeff was. She'd been honest with Jeff, and told him that she was seriously involved. That was all that was important, and all that she owed Brandon. Nothing had happened. She didn't have to tell him about Jeff.

Are you having a good time? he inquired with a yawn. He had been working for hours on the trial.

How's it going?

Very slowly. We're just starting to pick the jury. I wish the guy would just plead so we could all go home. He hadn't liked this case right from the beginning.

How long do you think it'll take if he doesn't?

A couple of weeks, max. That's long enough. They were covering a vast amount of material and Brandon was using three assistants. It was white-collar crime at its most complicated.

I'll be home before you finish, at least.

I'll probably have to work this weekend, he said, matter-of-factly, but she had expected that. She'd have to go into the office Saturday anyway to catch up, and maybe she could talk him into relaxing a little on Sunday.

Don't worry about it. I'll be home Friday night. She was booked on a six o'clock flight, and she'd be home by ten California time. Maybe she'd even go to his place and surprise him.

I'll catch up with you sometime over the weekend, he said coolly, and it reminded her of her conversation with Jeff as they left Elaine's. She hated it when Brandon made a point of keeping her at a distance. I'll call you tomorrow night, he said mechanically. Will you be in this time?

I have a business dinner actually, she lied for the second time. Why don't I call you when I get back? I don't think it'll be late. She couldn't stay out till two every night, or she'd be too exhausted to work, and she was sure that Jeff understood that. Tonight had been a rare thing, one of those unusual meetings of the soul where two people discover that they have a million feelings and ideas in common. But it couldn't go on night after night.

Don't work too hard, Brandon said briefly, and hung up, telling her he had to go back to work on his trial. There had been no I love you. ' I miss you. No promise to meet her at the airport or at home when she got back. It reminded her all over again of how tenuous their situation was, and yet, in spite of that, she always hung on, because she loved him. What was she waiting for? she asked herself. What did she think was going to change? As Jeff had said, she might have to wait for a long, long time. Maybe forever.

She walked slowly into the bedroom, thinking of Brandon, and the good times they'd had. There had been a lot of them in two years, but what she didn't let herself think about were the disappointments, like tonight. There had been plenty of those, moments when he couldn't be there for her, in soul or body. Moments when he didn't say the words she needed to hear, or when he didn't come to the events that mattered to her, like the Golden Globes. She wondered if she was thinking of them now because she was angry, or because she had met Jeff and she wanted him to be right for her, and Brandon wrong. Did she want him to be everything Brandon wasn't? Was he a fantasy, and was she only imagining their similarities? She stood there, with none of the answers, thinking of both of them, as she looked out the window.

On Tuesday, when Allegra got up when the alarm rang at eight o'clock, New York was covered with a blanket of snow. It looked like mounds of whipped cream sitting on Park Avenue, and there were already children leaping and sliding, and throwing snowballs at each other as they walked to school. From her vantage point far above, it looked like fun, and she wished she could be there with them.

She spent the day in meetings, and just to be sure she was all right, she called Carmen Connors.

The housekeeper was out, the answering machine was on, and Allegra could only assume that she was either shopping or out of town. She left a message for her, hoping that everything was fine, and called Alice to make sure there had been no messages from her, no further threats, or problems.

Not a sound since you left. In fact, all of her clients had been quiet. Mai O'Donovan had left a message that he was drying out again, and Alan had left a message for her to call him when she got back to town, but not before. And other than that, everything was in order. How's New York? Alice asked.

Very white, Allegra responded.

Not for long. It would all be black, and slush by the next morning, but it was pretty in the meantime.

Allegra had lunch with an attorney she'd been corresponding with for a year, at the World Trade Center, and she spent the rest of the afternoon with Bram's promoters, and two more lawyers. After that, she hurried back to the hotel for a meeting with another lawyer. It was about a licensing agreement for Carmen. Someone wanted to do a perfume and use her name, but Allegra was not enthused about it. The product was not high-end, and Carmen had no intention of sitting around department stores, selling perfume. The more Allegra heard about it, the less she liked it. And at six-thirty, she was back in her room, exhausted. It was snowing again, and traffic had been a nightmare all day. It had taken her an hour to get back from Wall Street for her meeting at the hotel. And the prospect of going anywhere in the mess outside sounded dreadful. Cabs were honking, cars were sliding, and pedestrians were wading through snow and slush, and now the snow was starting again. The only place it might have been pretty was Central Park, but on the streets of New York it was a nightmare.

She went through her messages and made notes. Carmen had not returned her call, but Alice had checked with the police and the FBI and security, and there had been no further threats or problems. Everything was in control. There was a message from Bram wanting to know her impression of the promoters she'd seen, and she had been pleased with them, and there were several faxes from the office, none of them important. The phone rang as she was sifting through her messages, and she picked it up without thinking.

Steinberg, she said distractedly, and then realized what she'd done, but the response at the other end was instant.

Hamilton. How was your day? Sounds busy.

Busy enough. I spent most of it battling traffic.

Are you still working? He hadn't wanted to bother her, but he wanted to hear the sound of her voice, even if she was busy. He had waited all day to hear it, and she was smiling, listening to him. He had a deep, smooth voice that sounded incredibly sexy as she sat in her hotel room.

Not really. I was just going through my messages and faxes. It all looks pretty tame actually. How was your day?

Pretty good. Weissman did a good job negotiating the new contract.

For the movie, or the book? I'm confused, you've got too many projects.

Look who's talking. He laughed. Book number three. I'll let you negotiate the movie. Actually, I talked to him about that. He thought it was an excellent idea. He said he never suggested it before because he figured I'd be out of the movie business in no time. He thought I'd hate it, and he wasn't wrong, but it looks like I might try it again, once at least. He says you're a terrific lawyer, but I shouldn't bother you unless I mean it. He says you're very busy, and you have a lot of very important clients. They both laughed at Andreas' warning.

I'm impressed. She laughed, amused by what he'd said about her clients.

So am I, Miss Steinberg. Now how about some dinner? Do you still have the strength to eat, after making all those important deals today?

I didn't make a single important deal, I'll have you know. I talked to attorneys and music promoters all afternoon, and this evening I turned down a perfume for Carmen.

At least it's fun. How were the music guys? Pretty sleazy?

Probably, but they were smart actually. I liked them. They have an incredible tour planned for Bram. If he's up to it physically, I think he should do it. He liked hearing about what she did. He liked her voice, her ideas, her interests. He had thought about her all day, he couldn't stop thinking about her in fact, and he liked everything about her. It was crazy. He scarcely knew her and suddenly she was all he could think about. And she had to admit that all through her meetings that afternoon, the thought of Jeff had made her smile, and she was constantly distracted.

You're bad for my business life, Mr. Hamilton. These people in New York are going to think I'm a drug casualty from the West Coast. I kept forgetting what they were saying, and thinking of things you said last night. This is no way to do business.

No, but it's kind of a good feeling, isn't it? he said honestly, and they both smiled. He wanted to ask her if she'd heard from Brandon, but he didn't. Instead he asked her if she'd brought warm clothes with her, some slacks, and a wool hat, and mittens.

Why? She couldn't imagine why he was asking, unless he was just concerned that she was warm enough, but he seemed to have something else in mind. He'd been planning it all afternoon, and he just hoped she had the right clothes with her. I've got wool slacks, I wore them today, and a wool hat I brought, but it's pretty ugly.

No mittens? he asked solicitously.

Not in about twenty years. She had even forgotten to bring gloves, and her hands had been frozen all day as a result every time she left a building.

I'll bring you a pair of my mother's. Are you up for something a little offbeat, or do you want to do something fancy? He was assuming she was still willing to have dinner with him, and she was. She'd been looking forward to it all day, and she'd been telling herself it was all right, and there was no harm in it, in spite of Brandon.

We don't need to do anything fancy, she said quietly. She had enough fancy doings in her life, when she went out with her clients or to award ceremonies or Hollywood dinners. She liked simple evenings. What did you have in mind? she asked, both excited and suspicious.

You'll see. Dress warm, wear slacks and boots and your ugly warm hat, and I'll meet you in the lobby in half an hour.

Is this ominous? Should I be worried? Are you spiriting me away to Connecticut or Vermont or something outrageous? She felt like a kid going on senior sneak, or with a bunch of friends from college.

No, but actually, I'd love to spirit you away somewhere. I didn't realize that was an option. He chuckled, intrigued by the suggestion.

It isn't. I've got work to do here tomorrow.

I figured that. Not to worry, nothing ominous. Just a little simple fun, New York style. See you in half an hour. He hurried her off the phone, and she finished reading her messages, and even thought about calling Brandon, to get it over with, but she doubted he'd be home yet, or even back in his office. It was only four-thirty in California. And she felt mean thinking that calling him was something that had to be gotten over with, like taking medicine. It was odd suddenly feeling this way, but she felt faintly guilty about Jeff, although they certainly hadn't done anything to feel guilty about, and she was sure they wouldn't.