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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 maître 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.
