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The New York Health and Racquet Club is located on 51st Street Between Park and Madison Avenues. It’s also one of those old boys clubs that doesn’t allow women. So I wait.
Around 8 am, I see the front desk man point to Arsen’s lawyer as he emerges from the interior of the club and approaches me.
“Can I help you, Ashley?” Gerard asks.
I take a deep breath. We’ve never actually formally spoken. Sure, Arsen’s mentioned Gerard in almost every other conversation and I’ve seen him around and been in his presence numerous times. He even saw me almost naked during a video conference after our first night being together. But we’ve never directly spoken.
Now, however, we have cause to.
I hold up the letter Arsen sent me.
“Do you know what’s in this?” I ask.
Gerard looks at the letter and then he looks at me. “I do not, but I can only assume it’s Arsen trying to give an explanation of his behavior.”
“Let me read it to you,” I say and I pull open the letter. Gerard takes my arm and takes me over to a sofa so I can sit down.
I clear my breath and begin. “Dear Ashley,” I start and look over at him. He gives me a look and I smile and keep going.
“The last few days without you have been fucking terrible,” I read. I smile as I read and look over to Gerard. He’s shaking his head with a little bit of a smile too. He has a sense of humor it seems and all of a sudden I can see what someone like Yasmine finds attractive in this older, much more distinguished looking man.
“I gotta be honest. I went out to Pasha today hoping a nightclub with the boys would get my mind off things, but nothing is the same when you’re fucking gone. I know it was fucked up of me to make you call me King Henry and not tell you it was me you were talking to,” I continue reading and I see Gerard raise his eyebrow. That’s what I thought. I keep going. “The Russian mob has been after buying the company for as long as Dad’s been dead, because it’s one of the only profitable outfits in the region, but I know how these guys treat their employees. And I could never put you in that sort of danger. I could never let you work for them. I sold everything else but Simulated Pleasures and I I held onto it because you were there. But as I kept talking to you, I sort of realize now why Dad did what he did and why it was so successful. He was lonely. And by providing the things that he did, he helped other people out there in the world who were lonely find at least a little bit of temporary happiness. A small pleasure. Not a replacement, that’s for sure. But maybe a small escape. Maybe a chance to not have to think about real life. Because babe, real life without you is so fucking boring, and it took talking to you on a pay-per-minute line for me to understand that. But you don’t want anything to do with me, so I’m letting you know that as long as you’ve quit, I’m going to sell Simulated Pleasures in the morning. Gonna sign the paperwork. So you never have to worry about me again. Just know that I fucking love you.”
I fold the letter away and look at Gerard. He looks at me.
“It seems that Arsen has realized what drove his father at last,” Gerard says. “And it seems he has you to thank for it.”
I nod and smile. I never knew how much Arsen cared for me. I mean I guess I knew. But I never consciously acknowledged the fact. But there’s more to this mystery.
“Arsen mentioned something about this being the only profitable operation in the region?” I ask Gerard.
The elder lawyer nods. “That’s correct,” he says to me.
“What are they basing that on?” I ask.
“Well, it’s all very complicated, but usually they base any sort of company profitability on the prior quarter. That’s why companies report quarterly earnings…” He tries to continue but he’s just confirmed what I was thinking.
“Where is he, Gerard?” I ask. I have urgency in my voice.
“He should be getting into the office in around half an hour for a meeting at 9 am and then he should be meeting with Luca Giannoni to finalize the deal later on this evening at 5 pm at Del Frisco’s,” Gerard says.
I get up from where I’m sitting. “Are you supposed to be there?” I ask.
Gerard nods. “I should hope so,” he says with a smile. “Considering I have the paperwork.”
I smile and feel like hugging him. “Then let's go, Gerard. I’m coming with you tonight, but first I have something I need to get ready.”
Gerard looks questioningly at me as I beam brightly at him. “It’s time for the company to meet Misty with the silky voice.”
26
Arsen
To be quite honest, I’m actually a bit relieved that the Russian mob tries to affect gangster living based on what they see from The Godfather and such. I mean, we could be fucking sitting at a Russian restaurant in Brighton Beach to sign these papers if they had suggested it instead of Del Frisco’s right in the heart of Times fucking Square. I mean, what would they even serve at the Russian place if we had to schlep all the way over there? Borscht? Dumplings? I’m no fucking Cossack, if I’m going to be doing a deal with the mob, let it be at least at a world famous st
eak house where they pour good wine.
We’re seated at a large table by the window, overlooking Broadway. Ever since the mayor turned Broadway into a 24/7 pedestrian zone, it’s gotten a lot weirder and crazier in Times Square. Ever walk by and see the women with just the body paint? The angry Elmo? The Naked Cowboy? Thankfully I don’t have to look at a naked fucking cowboy as I decide what cut of meat I want to be putting in my mouth tonight.
