“What are you doing here?” she asked, not sounding entirely welcoming. She was still annoyed by his call the night before.
“I just delivered a painting of my father’s to one of the big Russian yachts.”
“I thought your mother didn’t sell them,” she said, waving him to a chair, but she made no move to kiss him.
“She usually doesn’t, but made an exception for this one.” Chloe could guess easily that the Russian must have paid a fortune for it, or his mother wouldn’t have sold it. It irritated Chloe at times how uninterested he was in material comforts. But he didn’t need to be—his father had left him a huge fortune. She had been struggling for years, trying to make ends meet, and she was tired of it. She was ready to settle down, stop working, and have someone pay her bills. And his lack of interest in commitment had been aggravating her and made her irritable with him. She hadn’t been satisfied with the relationship they’d had for several months.
“I’m always impressed by the women who hang out with those Russians. They must be real pros in bed, for the men to spend money on them the way they do. Couture clothes, incredible jewels, furs, art. I see a lot of that stuff come up at auction, when I go to Drouot in Paris. Those girls really know how to work a guy and make their bodies pay off.” He felt sick as he listened to her, and thought of Natasha, who was a far cry from what she was describing. He couldn’t see her in that light and didn’t want to.
“I think there’s a big difference between the hookers they hire, and the women they live with, their mistresses,” Theo said in quiet defense of them.
“Not really,” Chloe said confidently. “Maybe the mistresses just do it better. They’re the elite. But they sure know how to make a guy pay his dues.” Her views on relationships made his skin crawl, as he looked at her, feeling as though he were seeing a stranger, someone he didn’t want to meet.
“Is that what it’s all about? ‘Making a guy pay his dues’? Forgive me, maybe I’m an idealist, but does love fit anywhere into that picture?” His parents had adored each other, and their love affair had started when his father was dirt poor. He liked that model a lot better than the one she was describing, and obviously looking for. She had gotten more direct about it recently.
“Probably not for those girls. And let’s face it, marriage is probably just a better version of the same idea. You give up your life for a guy, service him forever until you can’t stand each other’s bodies anymore, and he takes care of you. What’s wrong with that? At least I’m honest about it. And so are those Russian girls, and the guys they’re with know what they’re buying. You play, you pay, and if a girl knows how to operate the machinery, she gets a lot more. Take a good look at those Russian girls. They know what they’re doing.” He felt as though she were insulting Natasha when she said it, and there was something so pure about her. Vladimir might be supporting her, and surely was, but she looked like a woman with a heart and soul. Chloe made all relationships between men and women sound like prostitution. He stood up after he had listened to her for as long as he could stand to. He had dropped by to take her to dinner, and hopefully go to bed with her, but it was suddenly the last thing he wanted, and all he wanted to do was run out the door.
“You’ve got a very materialistic view of marriage,” he said, looking down at her, sitting on the couch, holding her glass of wine. She had a nice body, and knew how to use it, and now he realized why. She was using it as a bargaining tool, hoping he would marry her and pay her bills. She had never made it quite this clear before.
“My father didn’t leave me a lot of money like yours did,” she said bluntly. “I can’t hide in my ivory tower, perfecting my brushstrokes. I have to be more practical than you do. And if playing my body like a harp makes you want to marry me, and support me, what’s so wrong with that?” She had no idea how she sounded, and didn’t care.
“Because playing your body like a harp isn’t enough,” he said honestly.
“You thought so last night when you tried to come by to get laid when you left your mother’s restaurant.” He couldn’t remember her being as openly venal as this before, but the months they had spent together hadn’t been fruitful for her. He wasn’t in love with her, he didn’t want to marry her and never would. And she was angry that things hadn’t turned out as she had hoped since the beginning, when she found out who his father was. She thought she had hit a gold mine when she met him, and instead he wanted to live as if he were a starving artist, and become an important painter like his father, and she wasn’t getting any younger. And she was turning out to be precisely the kind of woman he went to great lengths to avoid.
“I still have this crazy idea that I want to fall in love with someone before I spend the rest of my life with them, or pay their bills, as you put it. I didn’t realize the bills were such an essential part of the deal on the way in. I’d like to think that a woman could fall in love with me, before she falls for my wallet.”
“It’s all part of the same picture,” Chloe said cynically.
“So why don’t you go after one of the big Russians? There are plenty of them around here.” He sounded angry as he said it.
“They only go for their own. Have you ever seen one of those major Russian guys with a French mistress? Or even a French date? They only date Russian girls. They stick to what they know.” He had never thought about it before, but she was right. The Russian men he had seen at his mother’s restaurant always had Russian girls with them. And Natasha proved the rule. “Those girls must know something we don’t.”
“Maybe you could take lessons from them,” he said, disappointed. He hadn’t fallen in love with her, but he had liked her for a while. Now he couldn’t stand what he was hearing. She had never been this honest with him before.
“Maybe I need some practice,” she said, smiling at him. He had disappointed her too, and hadn’t spent enough time with her or made a commitment, but she was willing to overlook it, for a night at least. “Want to go to bed?” She took all the romance and seduction out of it. And he had gone to see her with that intention, but suddenly it was the last thing he wanted.
“Actually, I don’t. I think you just summed it up pretty well. You’re looking for a guy to pay your bills, long term, in exchange for sex and your other talents. And I’m not looking for marriage, but I still have these childlike illusions about being in love with the woman I’m with, if I’m going to stick around long term. I think we’ve exhausted the possibilities here, and we both need to move on.” She was startled when he said it, as he stood at the door and turned to look at her. “Good luck, Chloe, I’m sure you’ll find the guy you’re looking for.”
“I thought you might be it for a while,” she said softly, and then shrugged.
“I’m not.” He looked relieved as he took one step out the door.