“Sounds like a bad division of labor and ratio of perks to downsides to me. Besides they may have all the fun, but look at the messes they get into. Bimbos, porn stars, blackmail, public apologies—they’re always having to kiss someone’s ass for the trouble they get into. It doesn’t look like fun to me.”
Fiona laughed. “Yeah, to me neither. Like Marshall Weston two months ago. He got out of that pretty quickly. It doesn’t always work that way, with the woman recanting within a day, and cleaning it all up. He got off lucky.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him either,” Logan said. “Who knows what contortions they went through to get him off the hook? I know there was a settlement, the terms of which were confidential. They must have paid her a fortune.”
“He does a good job for UPI,” she said fairly, hoping to change the subject. “He’s a terrific CEO.”
“Smooth guy. I’ve interviewed him too.” But he hadn’t liked him personally. Marshall was so slick that Logan had no idea who he was inside, and he hated subjects like that. It was like trying to look through a brick wall. By contrast, Fiona seemed open, honest, and transparent, and there was a human side to her that he liked. He liked her just as much as he admired her before, and possibly more now as he got to know her better. He really could conceive of being friends with her if she would ever let that happen, and of that he was not yet sure. She was very guarded about her private life and jealous of her time, of which she had very little.
“I met Marshall’s wife when I interviewed him at his house in Ross,” Logan volunteered. “She’s one of those perfect corporate wives who do everything right, are never too much in evidence but just enough, and you have no idea who they really are. She was kind of like this perfect robot when I met her, built for his exclusive use, to meet his every need. Women like that make me nervous. I always figure that one day they’ll lose it and go totally nuts and start shooting people from a church tower or something, after years of being treated like a machine and not a human being.”
Thinking about it, she had to admit, Liz Weston had looked a little strung out when she stood next to Marshall at the press conference on TV.
She had met a lot of women like her in the course of her career and had nothing in common with them. Theirs was a life of service, designed to meet their husband’s every need, and their only sense of achievement seemed to be measured by their husband’s success. It looked like living vicariously to Fiona, instead of having an identity and accomplishments of their own. It wouldn’t have been enough for her. The marriages of those women, and the status symbols that went with them, appeared to be all they had. It gave her the creeps. She had tried hard to make David happy, but she had never been willing to give up herself or her dreams, and she had taken a beating for it, which was why marriage didn’t appeal to her anymore. And she didn’t want a “corporate husband” to pay lip service to her, not that she had seen many in her lifetime. Those roles were almost always reserved for women. So many of the successful women she knew had wound up alone, just like her. It was the nature of the beast, and the price you had to be willing to pay. She had to carry her burdens and fight her battles alone; she couldn’t imagine life otherwise anymore.
“Do you like baseball?” he asked then, changing the subject halfway through their burgers. He hadn’t meant to get into a discussion about relationships with her, it had just happened, and she had been open to discussing the subject, which surprised him.
“Yes, I do. And football, although I never go to games.”
“Let me guess,” he teased her, “no time, and no one to go with. Well, if you’re amenable, at least that can change. I’m a baseball fanatic, and I have season tickets. Do you want to go with me sometime?” She loved the idea of being pals with him, and she knew her sister would approve.
“That sounds like fun,” Fiona said, smiling at him.
“Perfect. I’m going to hold you to it. How about next Saturday? There’s a home game.” She nodded agreement, and he told her who was playing, and reeled off a slew of statistics to dazzle her.
“You are a fanatic.” She was impressed.
“I’ve loved baseball since I was a kid. I used to dream about playing professionally when I grew up. No such luck. But I’m an avid fan.” And he was happy to have an excuse to see her in a week. It wasn’t a date, just a baseball game. And it sounded great to both of them.
They talked longer than they planned that night. They eventually slid into politics, and from there to some of their favorite books. Fiona said she hated the fact that she had so little time to read current books, and he was extremely well read. But most of the reading she did was for work, which he understood. He was surprised that she read as much as she did, mostly nonfiction, and a novel once in a great while on vacation. She was always playing catch-up for work.
It was after nine o’clock when they finally left the bar. Fiona thanked him for dinner, and he told her he’d pick her up before the baseball game, and she said she’d drive in from Portola Valley and meet him in the city. It was too far for him to drive, and then have to drive her home again, and he said he’d call her and they’d make a plan. She wished him a good week until then, and they both drove off. She was pleased with herself for having had dinner with him. In her position, everything she did had to have a purpose and a goal. There were no random acts and associations, except for the time she spent with her children, which was entirely spontaneous and always enjoyable. But everything else she did was structured and planned. It had been nice having dinner with Logan at the last minute. And the bar in Palo Alto had been the perfect place for an easy dinner, where they could both relax.
And as Logan drove back to the city, he was thinking the same thing about her. It was hard to imagine any man feeling threatened by her, although he was sure that there were some who would, like her idiot ex-husband, who didn’t sound like a good guy to him. And one thing was sure, as far as Logan was concerned, Fiona Carson deserved a good man. She was a lovely woman, and he was glad she’d come with him. And best of all, neither of them had talked about NTA all night. He had kept his word.
Chapter 15
Things went better in L.A. for Marshall the next week. And he had no idea why, but Ashley had calmed down. She didn’t tell him that she had gone to see a shrink to discuss her anxiety over their relationship. She had followed Bonnie’s earlier suggestion, and it had relieved some of the stress for Ashley. Their situation was no different, but she had set some goals for herself with the shrink. They had agreed that if Marshall didn’t do something about his situation by the end of the year, Ashley would try to move on. Marshall would have been stunned if he had known. And knowing that she was going to do that, Ashley was more relaxed with him when he got to L.A., and she didn’t complain as much this time. He felt as though he had come home to the “old” Ashley, the one who threw herself into his arms when he arrived. They were in bed ten minutes later, and Marshall felt as though he were floating on a cloud. It was sheer heaven being with her again. The girls were at day camp, and he had even managed to drive to Malibu at lunchtime, from the office, and spend an hour in bed with her before he went back to work. Just like old times.
“I feel like I’ve found you again, Ash,” he said in a husky voice after they made love on his second night in town. “I felt as though I was losing you for a while.” He was at far greater risk of losing her now, but he didn’t know it. She was trying to make better decisions about her life, and not just let him string her along for another eight years. As the therapist had said to her, the situation he had with her was much too comfortable for him, and dangerous for her. She had given him eight years of her life, and he had given her the twins, who were the greatest joy in her life. But she had no security in the relationship, or proof that he would ever leave Liz, particularly if what he said now was true, that she was falling apart. Ashley wondered if part of Liz’s supposed instability was due to fear of an empty nest in the next year, but she didn’t want to
ask. She didn’t like asking Marshall about her, and she had never wanted to come to care about her. She didn’t feel guilty about what she and Marshall had, and it was up to him to deal with Liz. All Ashley wanted was him, and a real life. And Liz still had that for now. It was all Ashley needed from him.
Marshall was so happy with Ashley that week, and so grateful that she didn’t bring up any difficult subjects, and pressure him, that he stayed in L.A. for an extra day, and flew back to San Francisco on Saturday morning. He didn’t get to Tahoe until late Saturday afternoon, and there was hell to pay when he did. Lindsay had had an accident on the Jet Ski, and escaped uninjured, but she had virtually destroyed it, and Liz blamed him for buying it in the first place. For the past two months, nearly three now, everything that happened was his fault, whether he was responsible for it or not. And he was tired of it. He and Liz had an argument over the Jet Ski again, and the boat, on Saturday night. And she wanted him to spend more time in Tahoe with her and the kids for the next month, like all the other husbands, according to her. At the end of the argument she wanted to know why he had been in L.A. for an extra night. She was suspicious of everything now, and he knew that Ashley was too. Megan Wheeler had had an enormous impact on his life, far more than during their affair.
“I stayed to have dinner with some of the guys in the office,” he said innocently. “It’s not a crime, Liz. And I drove up as soon as I got back.”
“Why can’t you take the month off like everyone else?” she lamented. She was trying to make him feel guilty for everything, and this time he didn’t. The night he had spent with Ashley was worth even Liz’s tears. And he had needed that. He felt as though at least he and Ashley were back on track again, which was more than he could say about Liz. He loved her, and she was a devoted wife, but lately she had turned into a woman he didn’t recognize, who blamed him for everything that wasn’t working in her life. He wondered if it was just her age. But Ashley was still on the sunny side of life, and looked and acted like a kid. When they were in harmony with each other, it made him feel like a boy again. And they had made love three times that night. They were making up for lost time in the past two months.
Liz reminded him again that all her friends’ husbands commuted to the lake in July, and then spent the whole month of August there. She wanted him to do the same.
“They’re not running the second-biggest corporation in the country, Liz. What are they? Doctors? Lawyers? Bankers? That’s a lot different. You know that. Why is that an issue now? I never spend the whole month at the lake. Why don’t you come to London with me in September? I have to go for three days.” He tried to throw her a bone, but it didn’t work. She knew what his business trips were like.
“You’ll be in meetings all day, and have business dinners at night. I’ll never see you. That’s not the same as taking time off here. Besides, you’ll never have a decent relationship with Lindsay if you don’t make an effort and spend more time with her. She’s angry all the time.” And they had the unhappy example of their oldest son, who refused to make an effort with his father and just stayed away, and Liz felt that was partially Marshall’s fault, for favoring John and spending more time with him because they got along better, and ignoring his problems with Tom. Liz didn’t want that happening with another child. The only one who truly got along with Marshall was John, who adored his father and forgave him everything, even the time he didn’t spend with them. And Lindsay was a very different child. Liz insisted that she needed more from him, which Marshall felt was an excuse. It was Liz who wanted more. Besides, he knew that Ashley would go crazy if he didn’t come to L.A. for a month, and spent all his time with Liz. It was a delicate balance, and a tightrope he had walked for eight years, and so far, from his perspective it had gone well. And who knew what would happen when Lindsay graduated in a year? Despite his promises to Ashley, he wasn’t sure. He’d have to see how things were going on both sides of his life then, and what would make sense for him.
Marshall fell asleep before Liz that night, and he got up early and went down to the lake for a chill morning swim on Sunday. He had breakfast with Liz and Lindsay. John was away with Alyssa again, visiting friends, and by lunchtime Marshall said he had to leave. He had a heavy week ahead, and was going to L.A. a day early that week, which gave him less time in his Palo Alto office. He offered no apology, and Liz was chilly with him when he left. Lindsay didn’t even acknowledge that he was leaving and refused to say goodbye, and made a nasty comment to her mother after he had gone.
“He’s probably cheating on you again,” she said, and Liz felt her comment like a slap that took her breath away. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to lash out at her for it.
“Go to your room,” she said through clenched teeth, with tears in her eyes, “and don’t EVER say anything like that to me again! What your father does is between him and me. He’s an honest man, and a good father. And I expect you to respect him as long as you live under our roof.” Lindsay could see that her mother was beside herself over what she’d said, and near tears over it. She went to her room without a word, and stayed there for several hours, talking to friends on the phone and watching a movie on her computer. She said it had been a boring summer so far, except for when her brother’s girlfriend came to visit and was fun to be around. But she reported that her mother had been in a shit mood, and her father was never around, which she claimed not to care about, but in truth she did. It felt like ever since he was accused of sexual harassment, their family had been falling apart. And she envied her older brother Tom who almost never came home. She couldn’t wait to get out.
When Marshall got to the office on Monday morning, he found the usual reports on his desk, and a few new ones. Things were always a little slow in the summer. And he found a message from Connie Feinberg. He hadn’t spoken to her since the sexual harassment incident, and thought it was a good time to lie low. He had been very grateful for the way it had worked out, and for their support. He called her as soon as he saw the message, and she took his call immediately. He asked her how her summer was going, and she said she had spent July in Santa Barbara with her children and was now back at work.
“I’d like to come by to see you this afternoon, if you have time,” she said casually, sounding as pleasant and easygoing as ever. He liked her, and they got on well.
“Anything special?” he asked, assuming it was just a friendly visit, but he liked getting a heads-up if there was something more. Things had been going well for them lately, and thanks to some strong decisions he had made in the last quarter, their stock was up significantly. It was why the board loved him and gave him their full support.
“I just wanted to catch up on some things with you.” She complimented him on their stock increase, and said she’d be there at noon. It didn’t sound ominous to him, just a standard visit from the chairman of the board, and he kept busy until then, answering letters and returning calls. He had just finished his to-do list when his assistant told him she had arrived.
Connie walked into his office wearing casual summer clothing. She was an athletic-looking older woman, with sharp blue eyes and neatly trimmed gray hair. And she was a brilliant businesswoman herself, despite the slightly grandmotherly look.
He complimented her on her tan, as she sat down on the other side of his desk, and had closed the door to his office as she walked in. They chatted for a few minutes about their families and nothing in particular, and then she looked into his eyes with a serious expression that told him the meeting wasn’t going to be as easygoing as he’d thought.
“I’m here unofficially, Marshall, to discuss something with you privately. I’ve already discussed it with the board, and we’d like you to handle it this time before it becomes a problem. How you handle it is up to you, but we don’t want this to become public knowledge, or an issue for UPI, or us as the board. We’d rather not be forced to take a position on it. So it’s entirely up to you what you do.
“It has been bro
ught to our attention, by several members of the L.A. office, that you’ve been involved with a woman there for many years, and in a fairly serious context. We’ve been told you have a second family there and several children with this woman. Apparently, one of the secretaries in the office is aware of it too, and says that this woman, your er … uh … mistress … other wife, however you view her, used to be an employee of the office. I realize that these things happen, and it’s not the first time in the business community, that a man of your stature has a second, hidden family, for whatever reason. But it’s a situation that could blow up in our faces, or yours. I have no idea if your wife is aware of it, but if she isn’t and she finds out, it’s going to be a mess for you, and she may not keep quiet about it. And far more likely, if the other woman, and mother of your other children, gets tired of the situation, she could create an enormous scandal that would make you look bad, and us by association. You know how sensitive people are about things like this, and hypocritical about moral issues. This is a very puritanical country, although personally I’m more realistic than that.
“But this isn’t about my morals, or yours, or how I view them. This could turn into a major public scandal that would make you look bad to the public and the stockholders, and taint your reputation in an extremely negative way. I’m sure this is a heartbreaking situation for you. But the board wants you to clean this up as quickly as possible before someone goes to the press with it, or one of the women involved decides to make a public scandal of it. You’re very important to us, Marshall, and we can’t have you be this vulnerable to something that has all the makings of a gigantic mess. You’re going to have to make hard choices here, for the sake of your career. If UPI is still your priority, then you’re going to have to bring your personal situation into line with what’s expected of you as our CEO. I’ve spoken to our lawyers about this, and we can’t force you to get divorced, or marry another woman, but I can tell you that in the circumstance you’re in now, should that become public, that’s not the image we want for our CEO.
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