Neenan felt a bulge in his pocket, reached inside, and removed a lacy string of diamonds and rubies.
“Is it not dazzling?” Gaby asked approvingly.
“It sure is, but I didn’t buy it.”
“Surely you did,” the woman seraph replied. “It’s charged to your account at Tiffany’s.”
“I don’t have an account at Tiffany’s.”
“You do now.”
“I see.”
“Then, secondly, you must touch your wife often, not lewdly, but affectionately. You must hold her hand, you must stroke her wrist and lower arm lightly, you must place your hand on the small of her back as you conduct her around the room and down to theater. Women dote on these simple signs of affection as all men would know if they were not deaf, dumb, and blind.”
“Twelve-year-olds,” Neenan said.
“Precisely.”
“I gotta do all this tonight?”
“Certainly.”
“I don’t think it’s right for a man to slobber over his wife in public.”
“It’s not exactly slobber that I am prescribing.”
“Yeah, but …”
“It depends to a considerable extent on the man and on the woman. In your case and at the present time in your love affair with her, she will enjoy such small tokens of affection. More than that, she now expects them and will be disappointed if they are not forthcoming.”
Gabriella’s deep blue eyes were dancing with amusement. She was loving every second of this advice to a clumsy human husband.
“This necklace is not a small token,” Neenan argued.
“Compared to what she is and what you have, it is utterly trivial.”
A young woman waiter brought a class of white wine for Neenan.
“Ms. Neenan will be here this evening, Mr. Neenan?”
“Yes, indeed, Barbara, I’m a little early.”
Barbara had not noticed the angels. Nonetheless, a glass of white wine materialized in front of each of them.
Michael touched Neenan’s glass. “You’ll be drinking the same thing we’re drinking.”
Neenan lifted the wineglass to his lips and sipped. “It’s very good.”
“The best white wine you’ve ever tasted,” Michael said firmly.
“I won’t argue about that.”
“Finally,” Gabriella continued implacably, “when you are engaged in business here tonight, as you will certainly be, you will be very careful to include her in the conversation, introducing her to whoever approaches you or whomever you approach. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a problem with it?”
“I have many problems with it, but I’ve learned to do whatever my guardian angels tell me to do.”
“We are not quite guardian angels,” she admonished him.
“Guardian seraphs then.”
“Michael,” Gaby said, suddenly alert, “the woman is here. She is absolutely stunning. I’m sure she sees us. I told you she would. You should have looked into it.”
Even among the seraphs, Neenan mused, the male is always responsible for what goes wrong.
“Nothing we can do about it now,” Michael replied. “I’m sure she doesn’t know what we are.”
Neenan was pleased with himself. So seraphs made mistakes now and then.
“She certainly is stunning,” Michael said to Gabriella, “for a human.”
“For any creature.”
“Raymond,” Anna Maria said behind him. “The tails still fit you!”
She was indeed stunning. Her hair was piled up on her head, and she was wearing a deep red, miniskirted cocktail dress that hung from her shoulders on precarious, thin straps. There wasn’t all that much fabric in the dress. On another woman it would have been vulgar and suggestive. On Anna Maria, however, it seemed tasteful and lovely. No necklace. The seraphs had doubtless thought of that too.
Neenan took her in his arms and held her close, one of his hands on the smooth skin of her back. Following the instructions of his seraphic instructor, he held her for a little longer than the required spousal hug would have demanded and kissed her a little more affectionately than a kiss of greeting in the Graham Room would have required. She caught her breath and then relaxed in his arms.
“Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“Indeed I am. Anna Maria, these are my two friends Gaby and Michael. They are in the, ah, music business.”
He deliberately pronounced the woman seraph’s name the way it should be pronounced in Chicago—gab-ee.
“Gaby and Michael, this is my wife, Anna Maria Allegro.”
“My dear,” Gaby said, shaking hands with Anna Maria, “you are absolutely dazzling tonight, stunning, ravishing.”
“I don’t dare disagree ever with my companion, ah, wife,” Michael said as he bent over Anna Maria’s hand and kissed it. “Tonight I must say she understates the case.”
Anna Maria blushed contentedly. She wasn’t sure, women never are, whether she was dressed appropriately. If two such elegant and sophisticated people approved of her, then she must have chosen wisely.
“I’m afraid I can’t top those compliments,” Neenan said as he extended his arm around her shoulders and eased her into her chair. “So I have to say merely that you quite take away my breath.”
“I’m glad you like it, Raymond,” she said shyly.
The young woman waiter brought another glass of white wine. Unobtrusively Michael touched it.
“What wonderful wine!” Anna Maria exclaimed as she sipped it. “It must be from Italy.”
“In a way,” Gaby said, still smiling.
The two couples chatted for a few moments about the opera.
“Their children are singing in the chorus tonight,” Neenan explained.
“Really! How wonderful!”
“We’re very proud of them,” Gaby agreed, not missing a beat, “and like all parents, just a little worried.”
Michael just barely contained a laugh.
After a few moments, the two seraphs excused themselves politely and then simply disappeared. Anna Maria did not seem to notice the abruptness of their departure.
“No necklace tonight,” Neenan said, his hand under the table touching her knee.
She shifted contentedly in her chair. “You know how I always forget something. So I didn’t pack my necklace this morning.”
“That’s good, because I brought one along that I think you might like.”
He removed the diamond and ruby ensemble from his jacket pocket, slipped it around her neck, and fastened it at the back. In doing so, he managed to touch delicately her throat, her chest, and her back. She gasped in surprise.
“Raymond!”
The angel kids took a break from their practice to sing a mighty fanfare. They were obviously little imps, but then what else would angel kids be? Apples don’t fall far from their trees.
“You like it?”
“It’s absolutely beautiful! I love it! Thank you so much!”
She leaned across the table and brushed his lips with hers.
“I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t sure that you would, though I thought it had your name written all over it.”
He pretended to adjust it ever so slightly and thus found an excuse to touch her lightly again.
“I may cry,” she warned him.
“That’s all right.”
“I feel like saying that you shouldn’t have done it. My mom told me never to say anything like that.”
“Mom is right. You said thank-you and that’s enough.”
She lifted the necklace to gaze reverently at it. “Tiffany’s?”
“Right. I have an account there now.”
“Really! I didn’t know that!”
“I didn’t used to have one, but I do now.”
“How exciting!”
“Shall we have a bite to eat?”
“Let’s! I’m starved!”
He helped
her out of the chair and, faithful to Gaby’s orders, shaped his hand to the small of her back to guide her to their dinner table. Most of his target was bare skin, which made the gesture even more pleasurable. She looked up at him and smiled, surprised but delighted.
“You should drink your soup,” she said when they were seated at the table, “and not stare at me like that.”
“I’m admiring my good taste.”
“In women or jewels.”
“Jewels of course.”
She slapped his hand lightly. “I don’t believe that.” The slap became a caress.
That necklace will touch her skin long after I am unable to touch her, he thought sadly to himself. Well, I may as well enjoy our love while I can.
Tears were about to sting his eyes when Timmy Walsh passed their table.
“Hi, R. A.,” he said genially.
“Hi, Timmy. Got a second?”
“For you, R. A., always.”
“Anna Maria, this handsome giant is Timothy Walsh, the famous public interest lawyer. He has managed to win more than a few cases against the big corporate giants … . Tim, this is my wife, Anna Maria Allegro.”
“Good evening, Mr. Walsh.”
“Good evening, Ms. Allegro. I must say that your necklace is lovely, as indeed are you.”
“I’m used to quick-tongued Irishmen, Mr. Walsh, but thank you. My husband bought the necklace for me.”
“Always a man of excellent taste in all things.” Irish blarney.
“Timmy, let’s settle this pension case.”
A quick look of enormous relief raced across Walsh’s face. He covered it up, but too late.
Got him, Neenan decided.
“I’ll have to talk to my clients,” Walsh said guardedly, “but I’d be interested in your general outline of a settlement.”
“Sure. You can negotiate the small stuff with Neil Higgins tomorrow. I propose that we do something like restore all of them to their jobs and their pensions.”
“With back pay?”
“Naturally.”
“I see … . And what about us?”
“We would of course negotiate with you on a fair price for your expenses.”
That was code for probably a third more than their real expenses.
“I see … . Some of my clients want punitive damages.”
“They’ll never get them, as you well know, Tim. In fact with the materials we have on their work performance, most of them will not prevail in a trial for compensatory damages.”
“We think they will.”
“It will cost a lot of money and a lot of time to find out. Better that they have jobs.”
Neenan watched the thoughts flit across Walsh’s face. Walsh knew he had to settle. He would lose hundreds of thousands of dollars in a suit and appeals. There was little likelihood of his recouping much from his share of whatever awards there might be. His pockets were pretty big, but not as big as NE’s.
“That’s certainly true,” Walsh mused thoughtfully. “I’m surprised that you are eager to settle, R. A., I thought you had dug in your heels.”
“It’s a waste of time and money, Tim. For all concerned. We shouldn’t have tried it in the first place, even if most of your clients were loafers. Even a loafer has a right to a pension.”
The angelic offspring found time for a single desultory clash of cymbals. They obviously had other things on their mind as they prepared to sing Marguerite off to heaven.
“I may have a hard time persuading some of them to settle. They may want a piece of your hide.”
“That’s not negotiable,” Neenan replied briskly. “You’re the lawyer, Tim. You have the obligation to give them responsible advice. I’m sure they’ll go along.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
“Talk to Neil tomorrow morning.”
“I will certainly do that … . A very real pleasure to meet you, Ms. Neenan.”
Anna Maria smiled back.
“Slick shyster,” she said after Walsh had gone to his table. “He’d fit perfectly in a couple of dozen scripts I’ve had to read.”
“You got him.”
“But it is time you got that case off your back.”
“I agree.”
“He’s not sure that you’re leveling with him.”
“He’ll probably wonder about the other leopards changing their spots.”
“Like all of us.”
“I figured I didn’t have to tell him about my plane ride last Saturday.”
“He wouldn’t believe that any more than anyone else does.”
He ignored that thrust. Instead he moved his knee against her knee under the table and rubbed back and forth.
“You seemed determined to keep me in a state of semipermanent sexual arousal,” she said with a slight gasp.
“All you have to say is ‘Stop it!’”
“Why should I say that? … This is absolutely the best red wine I’ve ever tasted! Lyric is buying wonderful wines these days. What’s the label?”
Neenan picked up the bottle. The label said “Seraphic Vineyards” and the locale was alleged to be “Heavenly Valley.” Triple wings served as a logo.
Show-offs!
“It’s a very high quality California wine. Heavenly Valley.”
Anna Maria was not a wine phony. If there were a valley in California with that name, she would know about it. She glanced at the label, frowned, then put it aside as though someone had wiped the question from her mind. Forgetfulness dust. Seraphs undoubtedly carried that along as a matter of course.
He had to agree with her, it was the best red wine he’d ever tasted. A couple of thousand dollars a bottle—if you could buy it, which you certainly could not. Still, if he was real good to the angels and praised their kids’ singing, maybe they’d provide him a supply.
Not that he would be around long enough to enjoy it.
“We’ll have to find out later from the management,” she said dreamily.
Don’t bet on it, my love. You’ll have forgotten it by the time we leave the table.
They spoke briefly with Ardis Krainik, the administrative genius who had made the Lyric great, as she walked by the table.
“Marvelous wine,” Neenan said. “Absolutely superior.”
“Thank you very much, Ray,” she replied. “We try to keep our customers happy.”
Anna Maria blinked her eyes as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite remember what it was. She settled for, “Quite wonderful, Ardis.”
Pretty effective stuff, that forgetfulness dust. I wonder how often they’ve used it on me.
After they had finished dinner, he guided her through the dining room and down the stairs to the theater and their seats. Neenan did not believe in boxes, because they were too far away from the stage. So their seats were on the aisle ten rows back. He assisted her into her seat and then captured her hand.
She glanced at him with a quizzical smile, but said nothing.
This is Wednesday, he told himself. Last Saturday seems a lifetime ago.
The lights went down, a hush settled on the audience, and Bruno Bartoletti, now celebrating his fortieth year with the Lyric, emerged to tumultuous applause. He raised his baton and the music began.
Poor old Faust, the dried-up scholar, lamented in his attic study the effect of age on his life. Outside, the chorus sang of life, a powerful and vigorous chorus, as it should be. Faust’s problem was age and, by implication, Neenan thought, death.
Was he like Faust, trying to recapture his youth with a younger woman?
Then Mephistopheles appeared at Faust’s call and promised him youth and a woman. Faust signed the fateful document, just as Neenan had signed Michael’s. What was the difference between the two of them? Both he and Faust feared death. Both knew they would die. Both wanted a little life and a little pleasure before the day of death came.
Neenan caressed his wife’s lower arm throughout the first act. She sighed a couple of times, but har
dly in protest.
We can’t keep this up indefinitely, he thought. Maybe it’s a good thing I won’t be around long.
He quickly dismissed that thought.
He made two observations during the act. First of all, Sam Ramey had never been in better voice, and secondly, the angel kids were participating with enormous vigor in all the choral parts.
“Isn’t the chorus wonderful tonight?” Anna Maria whispered in his ear.
“They sure are.”
She heard them of course, if not quite as clearly as he did. He wondered how many others in the audience also heard them. The seraphic parents, of whom many were presumably hanging around, might well be playing games with the sound waves so lots of people might hear their kids.
Sure enough, when the curtain came down on the first act, the crowd streaming out of the theater spoke only of how wonderful the chorus had been.
They bumped into Michael and Gaby in the lobby.
“The chorus was wonderful,” Anna Maria exclaimed. “How proud you must feel!”
“Their performance was adequate,” the woman seraph said with a maternal smile.
“They did OK,” Michael agreed.
“Can you join us upstairs?” Neenan asked mischievously.
“Thank you, but we already have a date with some friends.”
Then they were simply not there anymore. Anna Maria apparently did not notice, nor did she wonder why children would be singing in the chorus in the first act when there were no children’s roles. The forgetfulness dust apparently worked well indeed.
“Joan and Ben Harvey will join us for a drink in the Graham Room,” he whispered.
“Do I know them?”
“He presides over a cable company for us in upstate New York. He was a pioneer innovator but ran his company into the ground. We picked it up for small change, though it was worth less than that. I retained him as president under strict financial supervision. WorldCorp is trying to lure him away from us.”
“Do we want to keep him?”
“I had intended to offer him and in fact did so our new direct-TV venture. It’s the kind of innovation at which he’d be very good. I think he’s tempted, but he still resents me. No great loss if he leaves.”
“Still, we will be nice to him, if only to spite WorldCorp, right?”
“Got it.”
In the Graham Room Neenan introduced Anna Maria to the Harveys. Joan spared his wife one quick glance and then dismissed her. Ben’s eyes, however, constantly drifted back to her.
Contract with an Angel Page 15