I didn’t say a word.
“Damn!” she said, her eyes still on mine.
That surprised me. “Why?” I asked.
Instead of explaining, she turned and started from the elevator. I followed her into Matt Brady’s private office. She walked around his desk and took a key from her purse. She hesitated a moment, then opened the desk and took out the report. “I’m a fool,” she said, the paper still in her hand. “You can turn copper on me.”
I didn’t answer, just stood there watching her. A moment passed; then without looking at it, she handed the paper to me. For the second time in a few seconds she had surprised me. “Aren’t you even going to look at it?” I asked.
She walked around me to her door and opened it. She stood there in the open doorway, looking back at me. “No,” she said. “I know you’re married, and that doesn’t bother me. But if another girl’s got you, I don’t want to know her name.”
The door closed behind her and I walked over to the window to get the light. I tipped my hat figuratively to Matt Brady. He may not have had much time in which to work, but there was very little that he had missed. My whole life was down there in those few sheets of paper. I scanned the sheets searching for her name.
I had nothing to worry about. The report merely stated that I had been accompanied by a woman who spent the night in my suite and that pursuant to instructions they would discontinue further observation. I dropped the papers on his desk and lit a cigarette.
I just had time enough for one drag when the door opened. “Well?” she asked.
“I read it,” I answered, pointing to the sheets.
“Everything all right?” She came into the room, closing the door behind her.
“Yeah,” I answered, beginning to feel a little foolish. I moved toward her. “I don’t know how to thank you,” I added awkwardly.
She didn’t answer.
I moved toward the elevator. “I guess I’d better get going.”
“You can’t go right now,” she said. “You’ll be noticed. They’ll see the elevator signal on the control panel in the lobby and they’ll come to check.”
I stopped. “How do I get out of here then?”
A curious smile crossed her lips. “You have to wait for me. I leave about five-fifteen, when the rush is over.”
I checked my watch. It was almost four o’clock. The smile was still on her lips as she watched me. “Sit down and wait,” she said. “I’ll get you a drink.”
I crossed the room to the large sectional and sank onto it. “I can use one,” I said.
I watched her move about the office as she put the drink together. The ice cubes made a comforting clinking sound as she brought the glass over to me. I sipped it gratefully.
She slipped into a chair opposite me. “What are you going to do now, Brad?” she asked.
I took another pull at my drink. “Go back to New York and forget all about this,” I answered.
“It won’t be as easy as that,” she said. “Matt Brady wants you.”
I smiled at her.
“Don’t smile,” she said seriously. “When you get back to the hotel, you’ll find a message there, asking you to dinner at his house this evening.”
“I won’t go,” I said.
“You’ll go,” she answered. “By the time you get back to your hotel, you’ll have thought it over. You’ll remember all the money he was talking about, you’ll think about everything you can do with it and everything it can do for you.” She sipped her drink. “You’ll go.”
“You know all the answers,” I said, watching her.
Her eyes fell from mine. “I don’t,” she replied. “But I’ve seen this happen before. He’ll get you. Money means nothing to him. He’ll pile it in front of you until your head spins. He’ll talk soft and tell you how great you are and how important you’ll be. And all the time you’ll be watching the pile of chips on the table grow until your eyes pop. Then, tag—you’ve had it.”
I put my drink on the coffee table in front of me. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “What’s in it for you?”
She put her drink on the table next to mine. “I’ve seen many big and important people crawl to Matt Brady. It made me sick to see such fear.” Her voice trailed away and her eyes watched my face.
“So?” I asked softly.
“You’re big and strong and cocky. And there was no smell of fear around you. You weren’t so frightened that you couldn’t see me, that you thought I was a piece of furniture. I saw the way you looked at me.”
“How’d I look at you?” I asked.
She got to her feet and stood very straight before me. Then, slowly, she walked around the coffee table, toward me. I looked up at her, my eyes following every motion of her. She stopped in front of me and looked down. “Like you’re looking at me now,” she said.
I was silent. I made no move toward her.
That strangely curious smile came back to her lips. “I know you’re not for me,” she said. “I know another woman’s got you. And you know it too. I knew it when you kissed me. But that makes no difference.
“To you I’m not Matt Brady’s secretary, not a fixture in his office. I’m a human being, a separate identity, a woman. That’s the way you look at me.”
I didn’t say a word. The only thing of value on this earth was that each of us was an individual and not a cog in a machine. No man was better than another because of circumstance or fortune, but each important on his own.
I reached for my drink, but her hand caught mine and stopped it. I looked up at her, our eyes met and locked. Slowly she sank to her knees before me. Her hand moved mine to her breast. I could feel the strong calm pounding of her heart beneath my fingers. Her free arm drew my mouth to her lips.
A pulse in my temple began to bang. Her tongue sought out the secrets of my mouth, her teeth tore my lower lip. She reached for me. Damn! She ran her hand over me and felt the hardness of my cock. She held onto me, tightly. That’s one part of a man that doesn’t think about love, about responsibility, about what’s right. In the army we said a hard cock had no conscience, but it sure is determined. I don’t know what made me stop. The price was right. She had everything a guy could want in a dame—except one thing. I was not for her.
Reluctantly I pushed her away. I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t know what to say.
She stared into my face. “There is another woman, isn’t there?”
I nodded.
She took a deep breath and got to her feet. I looked up at her. There was a tremulous smile on her lips as she spoke. “That’s another thing I can like about you. You’re honest. You don’t cheat for cheating’s sake alone.”
She went back into her office, and in a few minutes I could hear the faint clacking of her typewriter. The minutes dragged away slowly. I walked over to the window and looked out at the foundries. Matt Brady had a right to be proud. If circumstances were different I could even learn to like the guy. But they weren’t. Maybe it was because what he said was true. We were too much alike.
Somewhere in the corridor outside the office a chime rang. Its mellow tone was still hanging in the air when she came back into the office. I turned to face her.
“It’s okay now. We can leave in a few minutes,” she said.
14
I picked up a taxi in front of the gate and was back at the hotel at a quarter to six. Strange thing, the male ego, and I suppose I have enough of it to do justice to six people. I felt good. Show me another guy who could turn down sixty grand a year and a luscious babe all in the same day.
I was proud of myself and I couldn’t wait to tell Elaine what a great man I was. I flung open the door of the suite and called out. “Elaine!”
There was no answer.
I closed the door behind me and saw a note propped up on the foyer table. My elation vanished like water down the drain and my heart sank in sudden apprehension. She couldn’t have gone and left me. She couldn’t!
&n
bsp; I picked it up and relief ran through me like a breath of cool wind in a heat spell.
4:30 P.M.
Darling:—
A woman can stand only so much. Then she goes to the beauty parlor. Should be back by six-thirty. Love you.
Elaine.
I dropped the note on the table and crossed the room to the telephone. I picked it up and put in a call to the office.
Chris’s voice was excited. “How’d you make out, Brad?”
“Not so good,” I answered. “Brady wanted me to dump the whole deal and come to work for him.”
“What did he offer?”
“Sixty grand a year,” I said. I could hear Chris whistle even without the phone. “He likes me,” I added caustically.
A note of satisfaction came into Chris’s voice. “When do you start?” he asked.
“I don’t,” I said flatly. “I turned him down.”
“You’re crazy!” he said incredulously. “Nobody in his right mind turns down that kind of money.”
“Better reserve a room for me at the Cornell Clinic, then,” I said, “because that’s what I did.”
“But, Brad!” he protested. “It’s the kind of setup you’ve been looking for. You can take the job and keep your interest here on the quiet. I can handle this end for you and there’d be a nice melon for us to cut up each year.”
There was a note in his voice I had never heard before. An echo of ambition, a cold desire to be top dog. I didn’t like the way we suddenly had become partners. “I said I didn’t want the job, Chris,” I said coldly. “And I’m still boss. The only thing I’m looking for is the industry account.”
“If you cross Matt Brady,” he said, the ambition dying painfully in his voice, “you can forget the account.”
“That’s my headache,” I said flatly.
“Okay, Brad, if that’s the way you want it,” he said.
“That’s the way I want it,” I answered.
There was an awkward pause for a moment, then came the question. “Coming back tonight?”
The answer sprang quickly to my lips. “No. Tomorrow. I have another meeting with Brady tonight.”
“Shall I call Marge and tell her?” he asked formally.
“I’ll call her,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Keep punching,” he said as we hung up, but there was no enthusiasm in his voice.
I gave the operator my home number. I had time to pour myself a drink before Marge came on the wire. It tasted good. I was beginning to like the stuff, I thought grimly, as I heard her voice.
“Hello, baby,” I said.
Her voice was pleased. “Brad.” She knew me too well to ask what had happened. I would tell her soon enough. “You sound tired.”
I’d only said two words and she knew I was beat. “I’m okay,” I said quickly. “That Brady’s a rough deal.”
“Were you at his office all day?” she asked.
I was glad she put it that way. At least I wouldn’t have to lie. “Yeah,” I said. “He offered me a job. Sixty grand a year.”
“You don’t sound happy about it,” she said.
“I’m not,” I said. “I turned it down. I don’t like him.”
I had a fast moment of misery at the faith in her answer. “You know what you’re doing, Brad,” she said without hesitation.
“I hope so,” I said. “It might mean missing out on the whole steel account.”
“There’ll be others,” she said. “I’m not worried.”
“I’ll know more before the night’s over,” I said quickly. “I’m going over to his house for dinner.”
“Whatever you do is all right with me,” she said.
Her trust was making me uncomfortable. I got off the subject quickly. “How’s Jeanie?”
“She’s fine,” Marge answered. “But she’s acting very mysterious. She keeps hinting to me about a surprise for our anniversary. I wonder what she has up her sleeve.”
“Nothing but her arm, if I know her,” I laughed. The odds were even money she would tell Marge about the coat before the anniversary arrived. “Hear anything from Brad?”
“A letter came this morning. He still has his cold and is staying in bed a few days. I’m worried.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” I said. “He’ll be okay.”
“But if he’s in bed, he must be sick. You know how he is.”
“He’s probably no more sick than I am,” I said. “He’s just grabbing a few days off from school.”
“But—”
“Nothing’s wrong, baby. Stop worrying. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay, Brad,” she said. “Hurry home. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby,” I said. “Bye.”
I put down the phone, added more Scotch and ice to my drink and put my feet up on the couch. I felt strange. There was something wrong with me, but I didn’t dig it. Old Man Conscience should be kicking my teeth in by now but he wasn’t even paying me no mind. Maybe Matt Brady’s girl was wrong; maybe I wasn’t any different than all those other jokers. Could be I was a natural-born cheatin’ man with only room for one dame at a time. Or maybe I got to it a little late. I don’t know.
Elaine. Her name came into my mind and I smiled at the thought of her. If ever there was a woman made for man, she was it. Everything about her was class and sheer delight. Her face, her eyes, her trim tight little figure and the sexy nervous way she walked. I took another pull on my drink and closed my eyes to see her better. It was like turning off the lights to dream, and I did.
In the dream she was the little girl who lived on Sutton Place. I remember I used to go over from our railroad flat on Third Avenue just under the El tracks to watch her. She was so pretty with her long, golden hair and her primly-dressed governess always hovering near her.
She never even looked at me until one day her blue and red ball rolled over to me. I picked it up and shyly held it toward her.
She took it silently, as if it were her due that I should fetch it for her, and turned away. But her governess made her turn around and thank me. Her voice was like a tinkling bell in the city streets.
“Merci,” she said.
I stared at her for one wonderful moment, then turned and ran all the way home and up three flights of stairs to ask my mother what it meant.
“I think it means ‘thank you’ in French,” Mom said.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and woke up. Elaine was smiling down at me. “Drunk again,” she said.
I grinned and pulled her down to me. I caught her face in my hands and kissed her mouth. Her mouth was made for mine, we went so good together. After a moment she pulled loose.
“Hey!” she exclaimed. “What’s that for?”
“For love,” I answered.
She smiled and kissed me again. The whole stinking world disappeared and when I got back to earth I was warm with the radiance of her being.
“Merci,” I said.
15
I watched the lights of the airport rise to meet us. I felt the plane touch the ground, first lightly, as if testing its ability to hold us, then firmly, as the lights enfolded us in their embrace.
“I still think it’s silly,” I said, turning to Elaine.
She looked from the window to me. “No more silly than your refusing to see Uncle Matt tonight,” she said. “You might have been able to work something out with him.”
I was irritated. I had told her everything that had happened but one. I hadn’t mentioned that he had a report on me since I checked into the hotel. I didn’t want to upset her. “I told you before,” I said coldly. “I don’t want to work for him. I like being in business for myself.”
The plane rolled to a stop and I unfastened the landing belt. I leaned over and helped her.
“I’m sure something could have been done,” she insisted stubbornly. “I could have gone with you and helped. But you and your pride—not wanting to take advantage of my knowing you.”
I was
even more angry because I couldn’t tell her the real reason I didn’t dare take her with me to see Brady. After that report, all he would need was one look at her and I’d be dead for sure. I didn’t answer, just waited for her to get up.
“The least you could have done was call up and say you weren’t coming,” she continued.
I blew a fuse. “Screw him!” I said vehemently. “I don’t give a damn what he thinks.”
We came out onto the runway and I picked up our bags and silently headed for the cab stand. I stalked angrily along, my eyes watching the ground before me.
Suddenly she began to laugh. I turned and looked at her, puzzled. “What’re you laughing at?” I demanded.
“You,” she smiled broadly. “You look like a little boy who’s being crossed at every turn.”
I had to smile. She was right. Nothing had gone the way I wanted ever since I told her that her uncle wanted me over at his house for dinner and I wouldn’t go. Then I wanted to spend the night there and she insisted that we go back to New York. We caught a nine o’clock plane and spent the whole flight arguing about whether I should have gone to see him or not.
“That’s better,” she said. “That’s the first smile I’ve seen on your face all night. If you are going to the office in the morning, it’s better that you be fresh than all beat up from a bumpy flight. We’ll be much more comfortable in my place in the Towers.”
“Okay,” I grumbled, waving toward a cab.
The taxi rolled to a stop in front of us. I opened the door and pushed the bags in, then followed Elaine into the cab. “The Towers, driver,” I said.
I had just settled back into my seat and was lighting a cigarette when the driver’s voice floated back to me.
“A fine thing it is, Bernard, when you don’t recognize your old man’s hack.”
“Pop!” His face grinned back at me in the match’s flickering light. The car went into gear and swooped around the curve toward the exit. “For God’s sake, Pop!” I wound up yelling. “Look where you’re going.”
Harold Robbins Thriller Collection Page 9