Chapter 20
Noah decided to give Maris a week to simmer down.
He concluded that a woman who catches her husband in adultery deserves a seven-day grace period in which to lick her wounds. It was more than an adequate amount of time for an ego to be restored. If the God of Genesis could create the cosmos in that length of time, surely a wife could come to terms with her husband’s infidelity.
He also set the deadline to coincide with the one that Morris Blume had imposed on him. When next they met, Noah needed to report that everything was going smoothly and proceeding according to schedule. It would be nice and tidy if he patched things up with Maris before making that claim.
He was of value to Blume only as long as he was a member of the Matherly family. His pending deal with WorldView would be jeopardized by an estrangement from Maris and Daniel. Even a minor tiff with them might cause Blume to balk. Before that important meeting, he must reconcile with Maris.
If within a week’s time she hadn’t approached him, he planned to go to her hat in hand and beg her forgiveness. He would rather choke than be penitent, but the ultimate reward would be well worth a few minutes of contrition. In the meantime, he had a suite at the Plaza. He would give her space, give her plenty of time to stew… and to contemplate the consequences of ordering him from her life.
Like hell, Maris, my dear. He hoped he had made himself clear on that point.
Unfortunately, he was forced to see Maris the morning following their nasty scene outside Nadia’s apartment. Avoiding Howard Bancroft’s funeral was not an option. When he arrived, he saw Daniel standing alone on the steps of the synagogue and knew immediately that his father-in-law was unaware of what had transpired the night before. Daniel greeted him as though nothing untoward had happened.
As they somberly shook hands, Daniel asked him where Maris was.
“On her way, I’m sure. I had to leave ahead of her so I could make a quick stop at the office.” The old man bought the lie. In any case, he let Noah lead him inside to get out of the drizzle that had begun to fall.
Maris arrived a few minutes later. She looked pale and wan in an unflattering black dress. It wasn’t her best color. He’d never liked her in black. She spotted him standing with Daniel in the vestibule, wearing paper yarmulkes, waiting for her.
After a slight hesitation, she moved through the crowd toward them. She was too respectful of the situation to cause a scene. He had counted on her discretion, just as he had counted on her not telling Daniel about his extramarital affair with Nadia. Besides being proud to a fault, Maris was boringly predictable.
She hugged Daniel tenderly. “How are you this morning, Dad?”
“Sad for all of us, but especially for Howard’s family. Shall we go in?”
They filed down the long aisle. Maris maneuvered it so that when they entered the pew Daniel was between them. She was the epitome of decorum, yet Noah knew she must be gnashing her teeth even to be in his presence. Imagining what an endurance test this was for her, he could barely contain his amusement.
Following the service, she consoled Daniel and, for his benefit, invented an excuse for having to take a separate taxi back to Midtown. Noah didn’t see her for the remainder of the day.
Nor did he seek her out for the next several days. During scheduled business meetings, she pretended that everything was normal. They had never been overtly affectionate at work, except occasionally behind the closed door of either his or her private office. Around staff members, they had always conducted themselves in a professional manner. Consequently, no one at Matherly Press noticed the chill between them.
He went to their apartment when he knew she wouldn’t be there to collect a few changes of clothing. He wasn’t surprised to find that everything was exactly as he had left it. Maris had not sent for Maxine to pack up his belongings. She would never have entrusted the secret of their separation to her father’s loyal housekeeper. The bad news would have gone straight from Maxine to Daniel, and Maris wanted to prevent Daniel from hearing of it. She would want to spare the old man from worrying about their marital problems and the damaging effect such problems would have on the publishing house.
Daniel, none the wiser, continued to take Noah’s calls, and Noah continued to pay him brief visits in the late afternoons to discuss the events of the day. His relationship with his father-in-law remained solid. Maris was suffering in silence and alone, and she had only herself to blame. She should never have taken that haughty stance with him. She should have thought twice before issuing ultimatums that served only to make her look and sound ridiculous.
He relished the thought of her pacing, regretting her thoughtless outburst, and having absolutely no one in whom to confide. Each time he envisioned her wallowing in her lonely, self-inflicted torment, he smiled.
After a few days, however, Noah began to tire of the situation. He considered approaching Maris and putting an end to the silliness. But he stubbornly resolved to let her brood for the full seven days before approaching her.
She would weep and call him names and beg to know how he could have hurt her so terribly when she had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. He would give her the opportunity to vent. Once she had, she would grant him forgiveness. No doubt of that.
She would forgive him for the old man’s sake. Maris could always be counted on to spare Daniel any kind of unhappiness. She would forgive him also because women love to forgive and then to make the forgiven miserable every day thereafter for the rest of his postforgiven life. That wasn’t going to be his future, of course, but he figured that’s what Maris had planned for him. In light of his deal with WorldView, he would do nothing at this point to enlighten her. That would come later.
In the meantime, the temporary separation wasn’t without its perks. While Maris wasn’t speaking to him, he didn’t have to listen to her harping.
Nadia was another matter entirely. She continually nagged him to divorce Maris. Her persistence had become tiresome and had created a tension between them that came to a head, ironically enough, on the final day of his self-imposed deadline.
They had scheduled a luncheon meeting in an outrageously expensive, trendy uptown restaurant. One of Matherly Press’s bestselling authors was joining them to be interviewed by Nadia for “Book Chat.” The writer hadn’t yet arrived when they ordered prelunch cocktails.
To other diners, which included a large number of publishing industry personnel, it appeared they were having a civil conversation about current market trends or perhaps the sci-fi phenomenon that had rocked the book world by securing the top spot on every bestseller list, when, in fact, they were arguing about their immediate future.
“She knows about us, so why wait? File for divorce now and get it over with.”
“I can’t leave the family until the deal with WorldView is cemented,” he argued.
“What does one have to do with the other?”
“That is an incredibly stupid question, Nadia.”
The insulting remark froze Nadia’s smile into place. Had they been anyplace else, her temper might have erupted on the scale of Vesuvius. As it was, she took a languid sip of her martini, smoothed the starched linen napkin in her lap, and adjusted the triple strand of pearls around her neck—which he noticed was suffused with angry color. “Be careful, Noah,” she said quietly. “You do not want me angry at you.”
Like her, he kept his smile in place, but his voice had an edge. “Are you threatening me?”
“Being the cold, heartless bastard you are, I think you recognize a threat when you hear one.”
“Isn’t it because I’m a cold, heartless bastard that you can’t resist me?”
Seeing that the awaited writer had arrived and was being escorted to their table by the ma?tre d’, Nadia flashed him a brilliant smile and spoke for his ears alone. “Do yourself a favor, Noah, and remember that I could give you lessons on how to be heartless.”
Following the tedious lunch, he escorted her out of the restaurant and onto the sidewalk. A chauffeured car was waiting for them, but Nadia politely declined his invitation of a lift back to her office.
He took her hand in what he hoped looked like a friendly handshake between two professionals, but he addressed her with a confidential pitch he knew she would understand.
“If it seems like I’m dragging my feet on this divorce issue, it’s because I don’t want to make an error that could cost us this deal. I want it for us, Nadia. But in order to get it, we must be willing to make a few sacrifices. I can’t dissolve my marriage to Maris now. It’s out of the question. You understand that, don’t you?”
To his immense relief, she smiled up at him and looked appropriately contrite. “Of course I understand. I’m just impatient to be with you.”
“No more than I. In fact,” he said, moving a half step nearer to her, “I want to be inside you right now.”
She closed her eyes and swayed slightly toward him, then glanced around to make certain no one had noticed or could overhear. “Naughty you. You’ve made me wet.”
“Then six o’clock can’t come soon enough.”
He squeezed her hand quickly, then climbed into the backseat of the waiting car, smiling to himself. The secret to keeping Nadia content was to keep her agitated between her legs. That was the mainspring of her self-worth. Her self-image revolved around it. If she was happy there, she was happy.
He disliked her constant nagging, but his argument with her had been stimulating and had geared him up for his showdown with Maris. Call it a rehearsal, he thought as he stepped off the elevator and pushed through the glass doors leading into the executive offices of Matherly Press.
He went into Maris’s office straightaway, but she wasn’t there. On his way out, he bumped into her assistant. “Can I help you, Mr. Reed?”
“I’m looking for Maris.”
Her eyes were magnified by the thick lenses of her glasses as she looked at him quizzically. “She’s not coming in today, Mr. Reed. Remember, she’s going back to Georgia.”
Going back to Georgia? Since when? Shit! This didn’t fit into his timetable at all.
It required all his acting skills not to give his ignorance away to the secretary. “Right, right. I know she’s leaving today, but she said she was stopping here briefly before going to the airport.”
“She did? That’s not what she told me.”
“Hmm, I guess she changed her mind.” He forced a smile and hoped it looked more natural than it felt. “I’ll catch her on her cell phone.”
He called no less than a dozen times but kept getting Maris’s voice mail. It was obvious that she did not want to be reached. He cursed her throughout the remainder of the workday. If she had suddenly appeared, he could well have killed her with his bare hands.
This was the worst possible time for her to play the betrayed wife and run away. Hadn’t he made it plain to her that he wasn’t going to stand for any crap from her, and that if he told her to roll over and play dead that’s what she was to do? Her pouting could ruin this whole thing.
On second thought, fuck her.
He had the document that Howard Bancroft had drawn up for him. Unless he was given no other choice, he would rather not use it. From a legal standpoint, that document could make things sticky, and he would rather avoid any legal stickiness. But it was there in his safe-deposit box, an insurance policy, an emergency measure to be used if it became necessary.
Feeling confident and unconquerable again, he arrived at Nadia’s Chelsea apartment shortly after six o’clock. He was in the mood for a cold drink and a cool shower, topped off by hot, aggressive sex.
He was whistling as he jogged up the staircase. But when he let himself into the apartment, his whistling abruptly died.
A beefy young man dressed in a tight-fitting black T-shirt and black slacks was emerging from the bedroom, strapping on his wristwatch. He then shouldered his gym bag and casually eased past Noah on his way out the door. His only acknowledgment of Noah was a negligent nod.
For minutes after the young man left, Noah remained on the threshold in a slow burn. A burn so hot that he was a combustion chamber, well decked out in Hugo Boss. He shot his monogrammed cuffs, smoothed down his hair, wiped the perspiration from his upper lip. These were conscious gestures, activities for his hands so he wouldn’t use them to rip, bash, or otherwise destroy something, animate or otherwise, he wasn’t particular at the moment.
When he was finally under moderate control, he moved toward the bedroom and gave the door a gentle push. It swung back on silent hinges. Nadia was sprawled naked on the wide bed amid rumpled silk sheets. Her hair was damp and tangled. Her skin merely damp.
Seeing him, she stirred and smiled drowsily. “Noah, darling, is it six o’clock already? I lost all track of time.”
The blood vessels in his temples were pounding to the point of pain, but his voice remained calm. “Who was that man?”
“Oh, you met Frankie? He’s a personal trainer at my health club.”
“What was he doing here?”
She levered herself up onto one elbow and looked at him with malice, mitigated only slightly by a sly smile. “That is an incredibly stupid question, Noah.”