Part 27 (1/2)

Kurt's cell phone jangled and he excused himself to answer it outside.

”Why is he coming here?” I asked Philip when Kurt left. ”He must know I'll spit in his face.”

”He's got this idea that he wants to make amends.”

”I won't see him.”

”I haven't told Kurt yet, but Ethan wants to settle property on you. He owes you this. I relayed this to the ancient, and Brovik feels you should accept. It would smooth things over financially for you. It's rather embarra.s.sing for him that you insist on earning your own way. It looks like he can't take care of you.”

”No, it means he can't control me, and to accept anything from Ethan suggests a contract. I'm not a.s.suming the position.”

”No one says you must, but I must warn you Brovik is having second thoughts about your little liaison with Kurt. Truth be told, he's concerned about the boy's loyalty.”

”Kurt has never expressed a disloyal thought. He's dedicated everything to this cause.”

”The boy is in love, and you know how Brovik feels about the influence of women, particularly yours.”

”I've never done a thing to turn Kurt.”

”So I a.s.sured him, but he hasn't remained where he is for a thousand years without being cautious.”

”Philip, I'm scared. You know how Ethan is.”

”Kurt is the one for you, but you're too stupid to see it. Don't let Ethan destroy this. He will, if you give him an inch.”

I spied Kurt, a seraph wending his way through the clouds of smoke issuing from hundreds of cigarettes dangling from mortal lips, politely rebuffing a boy who stopped him to ask for a light. Kurt shook his head, flas.h.i.+ng a sweet smile. The smoker, not so easily put off, grabbed Kurt's arm, and whispered into his ear to ask for something else. This was a good time to come to his rescue.

”Let's get out of here. This smoke is awful,” I said to Philip, rising and pus.h.i.+ng through the crowd toward Kurt. ”Come on, I need fresh air.” I took Kurt's hand and dragged him away from the hopeful smoker.

The sky was unusually filled with stars. In Manhattan, we generally make do with artificial lights as they tend to make stars invisible, but on nights of extreme clarity they s.h.i.+ne, fewer than in other places but they manage. We decided to walk down to the battery. Philip was subdued as we looked out over the harbor toward the green G.o.ddess Liberty. Kurt said little, clinging to me like he was afraid I'd run off. Conversation felt strained and stale.

Philip bid us goodbye once we returned to my place, and drove off to a hotel. Kurt watched the first flashes of dawn lighting the horizon from my window. ”You're uncertain of what you'll do.”

I laid my head against his shoulder. ”I don't want to lose you.”

”You've never told me, Mia,” he whispered. ”You know I do do.”

I brushed back a stray lock from his forehead and kissed his cheek. We couldn't even speak the word, maybe because it had too many bad connotations for us. It's much bandied about, but seldom true. It has much more to do with owners.h.i.+p, and being owned, or just plain bloodletting. This thing Kurt and I had, was unheard of.

Red-orange stripes illuminated his face as he peered through the blind. ”I can't bear to lose you again.”

I hung onto him. For once in my lousy life something went right and I was in grave danger of s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g it up in my usual style.

But Ethan didn't make an appearance. I was relieved, thinking he'd changed his mind. Then, a few weeks later, hunger drove me out of my air-conditioned lair to a bar at the South Street Seaport, where I picked up a Wall Street sleaze, coercing him with the promise of a b.l.o.w.j.o.b in his car. He didn't realize I was the one seeking oral gratification. I dumped him in the East River and headed uptown beneath the FDR. Cars horns blared as the traffic above came to a standstill.

The streets were damp with early evening rain, making the air like inside of a greenhouse. Pavement steamed with oily vapor. A sluggish little wind stirred the muggy air. My neck p.r.i.c.kled as I caught the scent.

The smell of fish from Fulton Street masked just about everything but then I heard it, a heartbeat, getting faster and far too close. I couldn't quite tell where it was coming from. Too many sounds bounced off the pillars supporting the roadway. I a.s.sumed a fighting stance and pulled my knife. ”Show yourself!”

Ethan stepped from behind a pillar. ”Very good, if you find yourself in an uncertain position, show no fear.” The h.e.l.lish heat couldn't thaw his beautiful coolness. He looked as if he never sweated- skin sculpted of snow, midnight hair perfect except for the one unruly lock, white s.h.i.+rt crisp and dark suit smooth. The diamond on his finger matched his icy eyes. ”Cara mia, my soul.”

How could he put all those syllables into that one syllable word? For a second I was dumbfounded. Then thirty-six rotten years flooded back into my memory.

”You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!”

He leaned against one of the pillars casually folding his arms. ”Miss me?”

”I've kept myself busy.”

Distaste flooded over him. ”So, I've been told.” He offered his arm. ”Come with me?”

I held my knife toward him. ”Get any ideas and I swear I'll cut your throat. You showed me how, remember?”

”You were a bright pupil, yet you succ.u.mbed to the charms of a boy boy.”

”He's not a boy.”

”It's Brovik's way of punis.h.i.+ng me.”

”Kurt and I don't feel that way.”

A knowing smile danced on his face. ”Just how do you feel, cara mia cara mia? Tell me you love him and I will trouble you no longer.”

He did exactly as I knew he would, and I still couldn't say it. I was at a loss for words and as you know Joe, that's something.

”I don't answer to you anymore!”

I pa.s.sed him without taking his arm. He gestured to a parked car. I refused to speak to him as we drove. We ended up at Gramercy Park, a quaint old neighborhood surrounding a charming gated park. He pulled over to the curb to let us out and led me to the door of an apartment building. Alarm bells started going off as he ushered me inside.

”What's this place?”

He laughed, hitting the b.u.t.ton for the elevator. We rode to the very top floor. He unlocked the door to an apartment, switching on the lights.

It was all there. Paintings and drawings I'd collected hung on the cream papered walls. All my books, including those from Kurt reposed in shelves built into the wall flanking the fireplace and little art objects I'd picked up in our travels arranged tastefully around the room. Deep blue Chinese rugs and simple light furnis.h.i.+ngs completed the decor. Every vase was crammed full of creamy roses. Ethan's hand was in the details.

I gasped, turning to him. ”I'm not coming back to you.”

”These trappings are meaningless.”

”Lots of memories attached.”

”Not all good, I'm afraid.”

”Not good at all at all.”

He stood in the doorway, dejected and weary. ”My life ended when I cast you out.”

I looked away because I didn't trust myself. Was it always so? Would I always feel this for my maker? Was it the blood that bound us together? All the nights I'd spent rehearsing the things I'd say to him, my grand vindication scene. It was no f.u.c.king good. He still got to me. I turned, trying desperately to hold him off. ”I'm not giving Kurt up.”

For a moment he was silent. ”I did you a great wrong, Mia.”