Peter found these gestures touching and determined that Gregor was truly in love with this blueblood. He had never expected it of Gregor to be open with such feelings; he had always considered him to be cold and calculating. “Now, you’ll certainly want children too?” Anne-Marie inquired. They would surely have beautiful children. She looked at Gregor and had to admit that she had never seen such a beautiful man up close, such an unblemished face, not the smallest unevenness, and hardly a single wrinkle, despite his age. He looked like a picture that had been painted – starting with the eyes – actually too beautiful for a man.
Zara was silent, but again and again, she felt a pain in her chest, above all when she had Coralie with her from time to time. Gregor said curtly, “I don’t think so. One can be happy without children, too.” Zara threw a glance in his direction that he couldn’t read. She knew he didn’t mean that and had said it only because of her, but she was grateful for it, so that she could keep her secret to herself. Alphons laughed; his thoughts were on the monthly payments that his first wife received, and on his children and the fights that had ensued about them. “Believe me, you’re right about that. Fleeting pleasure, decades of anger!?” Everyone laughed politely.
After dessert, Peter asked, “So, what should we do now? The night has just begun...” Gregor leaned back and looked at Zara. “Zara has suggested a club, but I have to warn you, in case it’s not to our taste,” he said, hoping for the best. Zara smiled. “Gregor thinks I’m going to take you to a den of iniquity.” Peter snorted with laughter. “Well, I wouldn’t have anything against that.. ” Zara nodded and grinned at Gregor, who shrugged his shoulders in resignation.
As they were on their way to the address that Zara had given them, he said only, “I hope this won’t be embarrassing for your sake.” Zara embraced him, kissed him gently on the mouth, and her hand was suddenly between his legs. “Zara, there’s a chauffeur up front there!” She grinned and shrugged her shoulders indifferently and whispered in his ear, “Then you have to be quiet!” She bent down and unzipped his trousers and her hand was on his penis. Gregor sighed and his fingers dug into the leather of the Mercedes. “Zara, that is not a good idea.” “Yes, it is,” she murmured. Her mouth closed around his penis and Gregor hoped that the chauffeur wouldn’t notice anything or stop too long at a red light, since the windows weren’t even tinted.
The chauffeur drove around the block an extra time at Gregor’s request, which he made in a hoarse voice. The others were already waiting when the two got out of the car.
The industrialist watched them come toward him and knew immediately that they had had sex in the car; he was familiar with the expression on Zara’s face. How he envied Gregor for this woman. They walked to the front of the queue, to the broad-shouldered bouncer, who immediately recognized Zara and allowed her to enter with her guests.
The entire club was bathed in blue light – sculpted ice figures were everywhere and smoke permeated the air. Most of the guests and personnel were dressed in a turquoise color similar to the one that Zara had on.
The music was a mixture of funk and house, and the clientele was composed of models, dancers, actresses, but also the young elite.
Zara hugged countless people, kisses were exchanged and Gregor got a table just off the dance floor, which had a view of the dancers.
A beautiful black woman served cocktails. Zara briefly sat on Gregor’s lap, and he whispered quietly, “It seems to be alright here, but please, no drugs, I’m warning you!” Zara laughed at how conservative he was and gave him a kiss.
In half an hour the club was full to bursting; everyone who was hip in Paris was here, and even Gregor’s guests seemed to be having a good time, and how.
Zara had disappeared for a while. She was in the middle of the dancing hordes and loved to dance. After a while she came to sit with Gregor, the beautiful waitress brought her a whiskey without waiting to be asked, and she drank it down in one gulp. Gregor gave her a nasty look.
“Don’t be so uptight,” she said to him. “Come dance with me!” She grabbed his shirt-sleeve – he had already shed his suit jacket and tie in the heat – and he couldn’t rid himself of the suspicion that Zara had not only drunk the whiskey. She seemed completely wound up, her pupils were enormous and her eyes glinted strangely. They were playing a slow song and Gregor asked her, “Did you take something?” He lifted her chin and looked at her eyes. Zara laughed. “My God, you’re worse than my father...” But he was so angry, so furious, that he would have rather carried her from the dance floor then and there and taken her home.
Zara loved the feeling of weightlessness, the music, everything seemed so light, everything ideal, and it was as if everything was passing her by, as in a film, and she was just the observer, hovering above it all.
Peter watched the two of them and said to Alphons, “A beautiful couple, she is really hot . . .” Alphons made a face; he had an acquaintance at the Police Department who had told him that she had had her driver’s license suspended not long ago because she had stimulants in her possession, and he suspected that she was under the influence, since she had such a strange look. “I have to be honest, Zara is pretty as a picture, but difficult. She’s known to take drugs; I hope Gregor has her under control.” An executive whose wife has a drug problem is not ideal, far from it. It screamed scandal!
Gregor was beyond angry; he didn’t speak a word to Zara the rest of the evening, while she, the longer the evening lasted, became livelier and wilder. “Come, we’re leaving,” Gregor finally said, and took her by the hand. The others had already said good-night and left some time before. It was four o’clock in the morning. ‘No, it’s still so early,” Zara objected and wanted to pull her hand away. They were now at the third club in their rounds and Gregor had an appointment in New York the next day.
“Come on.” He pulled her into the waiting car – and found it embarrassing that a few of the other club-goers saw the scene and smiled compassionately. Naturally, all the guests up so late knew Zara. “Come, we’ll make another stop, I know the others.” “Who, in this town doesn’t know you,” Gregor asked, frustrated. And who among them hadn’t slept with her? Zara laughed. “And these drugs? How much do you take, actually?” Zara shook her head. “You’re so conventional; despite your wealth, you’re still the son of a rabbi.” Gregor shook his head and pulled her into the limousine.
In her present condition, Zara made Gregor furious, and she found him irresistible. She tried to kiss him, but he didn’t react, pushing her back in her seat and was glad when they arrived back at the apartment.
No sooner had he closed the apartment door, he grabbed Zara by the arms. “What’s this all about, Zara? Since when are you taking this stuff in these amounts?” Zara laughed. “My God, don’t be so conservative, they’re just colorful little pills.” She unbuttoned her dress and let it fall to the floor, kicked her shoes into a corner, and went into the bathroom. She began to take off her make-up in front of the mirror and got into the shower.
When she came into the living room, Gregor was sitting on the bench and looked at her. She took the wedding band off and threw it at him. “Here, take this. I don’t need it in Paris!” Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to marry her; he had hoped to find the woman who had left him in New York, the perfect hostess, the intelligent, ambitious lawyer. “You regret it, right?” She smiled. “You can get a divorce. It’s very easy. I know my way around divorces,” she said, sure of herself, and nodded, as if to herself … “Yes, I know my way.” She turned around. “I take it you know a judge who would do it yet tonight, right?” Gregor sighed and put his hands over his face. He felt as if he were going to be sick. Wrong, he was sick. Had he made a mistake?
Zara went into the bedroom and fell on the bed. She opened the door of the night-table next to the bed and boxes of tablets rolled out. Gregor followed a little later, stopped at the door, and saw the mountain of medications.
Zara had found the sleeping pills an
d took a few of them. After the stimulants she couldn’t sleep otherwise and tomorrow she was supposed to drive to the university. She turned on the alarm clock and wanted to wash down the pills with some water, when Gregor grabbed her hand.
“What is this now?” He picked up the packet. “Sleeping pills?” “When did you start taking these?” Zara shrugged her shoulders. “My God, Doctor Levy, I had no idea that your doctorate was in medicine?!” Zara?! Answer me.” “A long time ago.” She couldn’t remember herself, when she had begun with this...
She freed herself from his grasp, quickly swallowed the pills, took off her bathrobe and crawled under the sheets. Gregor watched her as she fell deeply asleep a little while later.
He was unable to fall asleep for a long time and when he awakened she was already up and it was as if nothing had happened. She was the sweet girl, sleepy, with large eyes, who lay at his side, one arm around him and kissed him.
She couldn’t remember anything either, and it reminded him of the time that she was running through the Tuileries Gardens and seemed so confused.
“Zara,” he stroked her hair. “Hmm . . .she murmured, and caressed his chest. “Zara,” he took her hand and kissed her fingers. “Can you remember anything about yesterday?” “Of course; we went to dinner with those uptight investment bankers and then to the club.” Could she really remember that? Gregor doubted it.
“You have a problem,” he said, and pulled her to him. “I have a lot of problems; you’re one of them,” she responded laughing, and lay down on top of him. If he hadn’t been so in love with her... Her kisses were electrifying, his entire body was under her spell.
As they stood under the shower together and she shampooed his hair, standing on her tiptoes and stretching as high as she could, Gregor said, “Zara, please get some help, if you can’t help yourself, please.” She laughed. What did he want from her? “Levy, I’m not the perfect woman that you knew in New York. I play that role, and don’t worry, I’m a good actress! I can play the part perfectly in front of all these conservatives.” She embraced and kissed him, and left him standing under the shower.
When he came out of the bathroom, she was gone. “I’m a good actress, fucking shit,” he repeated loudly. How true! She deserves an Oscar for her performance, but he didn’t want an actress, he wanted what was beneath, the fragile girl that was actually afraid of herself.
5.
For some time, Gregor didn’t come to Paris; he didn’t want to see her like that again. He wanted to see her the way he remembered her, perfect. And he hoped that in New York she would be that again. He thought of her every minute, even at an important Board Meeting. He had to concentrate, to look at the figures a second time, and was discussing them with the others when one of his assistants came into the Conference Room and apologized for the interruption. “Doctor Levy, may I speak to you for a moment, urgently?” Gregor sighed, and excused himself. He went to his assistant, an older woman. “What’s the matter? I’m in the middle of a Board Meeting!” he said, indignantly. She pulled him out of the room by his sleeve. “Gregor, a French hospital called.” Thank heavens that I speak a little French, otherwise I wouldn’t have understood a word, Peggy thought to herself. “Your wife had an accident.” Gregor didn’t know what he should think. He had tried to call Zara, but as before, she had hung up. And that wasn’t the first time recently. It had been going on like that for a few days. “What do you mean, accident?” “If I understood correctly what they were saying, an automobile accident, but my French is pretty rusty at this point and these French speak almost no English,” she apologized. Gregor knew immediately what he must do; he couldn’t leave Zara alone. It was a mistake that he hadn’t concerned himself with her. Damn it, now this was the result.
“I’m flying to Paris, Peggy. Find out where she is, in which hospital.” He had gotten pale and as he returned to the Conference Room, all the others noticed it immediately. Gregor was very disciplined and normally there were no interruptions at these kinds of meetings. Peter asked, therefore, “What’s happened?” “My wife has been in an automobile accident,” Gregor murmured and opened the folder with the year-end figures. Peter remembered the words of the Frenchman at the dinner in Paris, when he had warned him about Zara.
“Is she seriously injured?” he asked carefully and looked at Gregor, who was quite pale in the face and played nervously with his fountain pen. Gregor shrugged his shoulders, but continued with the meeting. As soon as they were finished – and he made sure it was a short meeting -- he was already in the car and his chauffeur was racing to the airport where his private plane was parked.
He had never before been so afraid on someone’s behalf; the hours to Paris were half an eternity. Then the taxi was held up in a traffic jam. When he finally got to the clinic and found the nurse’s station and the doctor who had called him, he felt he had lived through the other half of eternity.
The doctor was close in age to Gregor; he received him in a bare consultation room. “Gregor Levy?” He extended his hand. “We were about to contact Madame’s father, since we didn’t know that she was married.” “How is Zara?!” “Better now.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose, sat on the table and studied Gregor. Gregor was wearing a suit and looked as if he needed sleep, which he did, of course. “She was pumped full of stimulants,” the doctor said. Gregor sighed; that’s what he had been afraid of. He was so furious. “She had a guardian angel, an army of them, actually. And actually I’m supposed to report that to the police, but Zara’s father is very well known and … well, I don’t want to end my career here. You understand, I’m sure . . . Come with me.” He opened the door to the hallway and they walked down the corridor to a door, which he opened and allowed Gregor to enter first.
Zara was just in the process of re-organizing her bag and looked at Gregor, speechless. What is he doing here, she asked herself. “Zara, your husband is here,” the physician said.
“I’m going home now,” she mumbled and continued to fiddle with the bag. Gregor stood before her in disbelief. She didn’t even have a scratch on her face; he had expected to find her half-dead.
There it was again – the urge to vomit. Zara ran to the toilet and threw up. The doctor shook his head. When Zara returned, Gregor couldn’t help himself. He lifted his hand and hit her. The doctor hadn’t expected that, and neither had Zara. Her cheek, where his hand had landed, was red and burned.
“Never again, never again!” Gregor shouted. He shook her roughly. “What do you think I expected when the doctor called me? I thought you were dead or badly injured! I didn’t have a second’s peace on the flight over here! And I have better things to do than to collect my drug-addicted wife from the clinic!”
The physician could understand Gregor’s anger. “She should lie down and resist putting her hands on that stuff. Maybe undergo some therapy . . .” He patted Gregor on the shoulder. “See to it that she doesn’t touch those little friends again.”
Zara turned around; she was stunned. She had never thought that Gregor would hit her. “Get out of here!” she hissed at Gregor. “I didn’t ask you to come.” Gregor spun her around. “Shut your mouth; simply shut your mouth.” He took the bag away from her, saw the white packets of tablets, and without looking to see what they were, threw them in the trash. He also saw the condoms. Did he expect that she wouldn’t have sex with anyone else? But it hurt, it hurt so much that the hurt became rage.
“I’m taking you to New York after the graduation party – and believe me, you’ll do penance for this!” Zara laughed mockingly. “What do you want to do?! You’re crazy about me – you’ve stayed away because you’re afraid of me!” she cried out.
He looked at her, sad and disappointed. Yes, she had seen through him, but he also had his pride. “You’re confusing something – it’s you who’s crazy, not I . . .” She tore the bag out of his hands, stuffed her things into it again and marched out of the room with her head held high. Gregor followed her and pulled her into
the taxi, which she stubbornly did not want to share with him.
She ran up the stairs of the apartment house and slammed the door in his face. What an uptight, conventional conservative he was! He stayed away for weeks and left her alone in Paris and then he reappears and plays boss! He should have come sooner, then all of this wouldn’t have happened. She had missed him.
She needed a shower; she had spent the whole day in the hospital, and everything smelled like it. Zara tossed her pants and her top away, in a big arc. Her thong fell to the floor in the bathroom. She had been up all night and then sped to Fontainebleau in her mother’s Mercedes because she still had to hand something in before graduation. On her way back, she must have gotten off the beaten track somehow, she couldn’t remember exactly. Well, the car was totaled; she’d have to explain to her mother.
Gregor looked around the apartment. What was going on here? Pieces of clothing were lying around everywhere. Books. Shoes. Didn’t she have a cleaning lady if she couldn’t keep things in order herself? An untold number of glasses stood on the table in the big dining room. Did she have friends over, or had she been drinking alone? There were Champagne and wine bottles, but also gin and vermouth. He shook his head about the amount of alcohol. He could also not overlook the package of condoms in the middle of all of this trash. What had she been hosting? Orgies? He was only away a few weeks. It smelled like smoke and he saw red and blue Gauloise packets lying about – open, empty . . . As she stood under the shower, she heard the telephone ringing, and Zara hoped that Gregor wouldn’t get the idea to pick up the phone. But through the open door she heard him speaking with someone and her breath caught in her throat as she realized who was on the other end of the call: It was her mother.
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