Part 25 (1/2)

”I'll treasure them,” Laurence said with a pleasant smile. ”Thank you.”

They strolled back to the hotel, where they were immediately seated in a booth in the rear of the Campton Place. There were few other diners; it was late in the afternoon, and most of the see-and-be-seen crowd was already gone.

”How about Champagne?” Laurence asked. ”A toast your success.”

The wine steward uncorked a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and they toasted, and while they enjoyed an excellent lunch, she spoke again about horses and polo.

”I would love to go to France. I've never been there. I would give anything to see the champions.h.i.+p tournament that's held every summer in Deauville.”

Hearing her talk about it, he thought that it might be exciting to go there. With her? Was that why it would be exciting? What had happened in the last couple of hours? What was it she had said or done to break down the restraint he had exercised for the past couple of months, which he now fully acknowledged?

With this thought, and all their talk about horses, he thought again of his wife, and the realization that this pleasant afternoon with Laurence would soon be over.

Back outside, the attendant brought him his car.

”Where exactly do you live?” Asking this question, it occurred to him that he had learned more about her this afternoon than in all their of previous times together.

”In Pacific Heights. Well, lower Pacific Heights. I can't afford real Pac Heights yet.”

”Is that where you would like to live eventually?”

”Not really. I don't think I'm really a city person at heart.”

She directed him up Pine Street to Fillmore, then to a narrow street called Wilmot. Hidden in the middle of the busy Fillmore shopping district, it looked more like an alley than a proper street. He found its concealment unusually exciting.

”There, the second house.”

He braked before one of three houses tucked into he middle of the block, sandwiched between business establishments.

”Well,” he said. ”I had a wonderful time.”

”Me too,” she said, folding over the top of the bag in her lap.

He paused, unsure what to do next. The air in the car felt charged with possibility, promise. He acknowledged his attraction to her. She stirred in him feelings he had not felt in years, which now suddenly gushed free inside him after today's victory.

When she had entered the boardroom, he had felt a potent sense of longing. How long had it been since he had been satisfied, really satisfied? Again his thoughts turned to Greta. He gave his senses a shake. He resolved that after all he had accomplished, which Lauri had helped him attain, he wanted to experience with her their own, intimate celebration. He wanted to take her hand, hold it, and kiss her, to feel her fingers respond in his own hand as their lips met.

From behind he heard the sound of cars pa.s.sing on Fillmore Street, and ahead of them, a group of young boys were playing basketball in a fenced school-yard. With a sidelong glance he studied her delicate, childlike hands, the impossible softness of her skin. She was so much younger than he. She had been silent all this time, and finally she spoke.

”Do you have any children?”

This startled him a little. Was she too unsure of what to do next? Stalling, as it were? ”No,” he said, ”no children.” He and Greta had planned to start a family after the successful launch of Orange Fresh. But after the accident, which happened on the very day that they planned to begin their journey into parenthood, the act by which a child is conceived never again occurred between them.

So that was how long it had been since they had made love, he thought. How long it had been since he had been with anyone that way.

Again Laurence broke the silence. ”Why don't you come inside for a moment and see my place?”

He accepted without hesitation, and a moment later they were inside. ”I've made do with my limited decorating skills,” she said with a wave of her hand. ”I'd love your opinion.” She excused herself to the kitchen for a moment while Matthew wandered from room to room.

Her apartment was a recently restored Victorian with black and white tile at the entrance and hardwood floors throughout.

Dhurrie rugs in light colors covered the floors in the living and dining rooms, and her furniture was a tasteful mixture of contemporary and antique. The bedroom was tantalizing. Her bed was an unusual steel frame design with a dreamy, sheer canopy draped lightly over the top. Its message was at once powerful and delicate. So were his feelings for her. He finished his tour and circled back to the living room, where he found her standing and holding two gla.s.ses filled with dessert wine. ”Just a little sip, before you drive back,” she said, handing him a gla.s.s.