Brigitte looked down at the eighteen-carat gold lips hanging from the chain around her neck and smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “My husband gave it to me for our wedding anniversary a few years ago.” She looked at the blonde and suddenly noticed that she was wearing the identical piece. “You have the same necklace!”
“Yes,” said the blonde with a smile that showed off two rows of perfect pearly whites, but did not quite reach her eyes. “But mine was a goodbye present. Alex is very generous man.” She turned away, leaving Brigitte’s imagination to interpret her comment.
After the meal, Brigitte pleaded a headache and hurried away from the table. Natalia watched as Brigitte rushed out of the restaurant. “What happened?” she asked the blonde.
“How would I know?” the cover girl replied coolly. “She hardly said two words to me during the entire meal.”
* * *
In her bedroom, Brigitte tried to keep herself from thinking of what the blonde had said. No matter how she tried, the words kept coming back to her.
“Mine was a goodbye present. Alex is a very generous man.”
That could not have meant… Or could it? After a long time, she pulled herself off the bed and forced herself to go through Alex’s drawers. I have to know. Once and for all, I have to know.
Systematically, she riffled through stack after stack of fine linen shirts and luxurious cashmere sweaters. She went through his silk underwear and socks, checking the pockets of every jacket and every pair of pants in his room-size walk-in closet. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, only that whatever was there, she would find it.
She pulled out shoeboxes from the top of the closet and threw them upside down on the floor. Suddenly she stopped. On the floor, amid the myriad of shoes that lay scattered around, were seven fine gold chains with pendants in the shape of lips. Brigitte picked up the last box she had thrown on the floor. Inside was the receipt from a jewelry store. Slowly, as if in a trance, she walked to the telephone and dialed the number of the store.
“Hello, I would like to place an order please,” she said calmly into the receiver as her heart beat furiously inside her chest. “Who should I speak to?” For a moment she waited until the owner of the store came to the phone. “Yes, hello. My name is Leonora Hart. I am Alex Ivanov’s private secretary. Mr. Ivanov would like you to run up another order of those necklaces for him. How long will that take? Oh, and before I forget. Mr. Ivanov would like to be reminded of how many of these orders he has placed the past.” She paused again while the owner looked through his files. “Thank you very much,” she replied when he gave her the information.
Brigitte was in shock. Three dozen! My God!
Tears rand down her cheeks and she trembled. Then she ran to the toilet and threw up.
* * *
Gerald Masson was in a quandary. He sat in his office, two doors down from Alex’s, and drummed his fingers in a nervous staccato on his desk. Since Brigitte’s discharge from the clinic, he fought a constant battle against his overwhelming need to see her.
I only want to see for myself that she’s well. Nothing wrong with that. He picked up the phone decisively and dialed.
“Hello,” Brigitte answered after the third ring.
At the sound of her voice, relief washed through him. “Brigitte, I’m so glad you’re there. I’ve been trying to reach you. How are you?”
“I-I’m fine.” There was a tremor in her voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls. I-I’ve been…”
“You don’t have to explain. I understand.” Gerald was silent for a moment; a silence full of warmth and caring. “Brigitte, if you ever need me, I’m here for you.”
There was another silence. “I-I need you,” she said, and began to cry.
For a moment, Gerald thought his heart might stop. When he could trust his voice again, he answered. “I’m on my way.”
“No! I don’t want you to come here.” There was desperation in her voice. “I’ll meet you at your house.”
Gerald rushed out of his office and was home in record time. Fifteen minutes later, he had changed into a fresh shirt and a pot of coffee was already brewing in the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
He opened the door and before he could say anything, Brigitte fell into his arms, her whole body wracked with sobs. His arms instinctively wrapped around her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, only to be answered with more tears. He could feel her breasts against his chest, her breath on his neck. The scent of her perfume sent his head spinning. Involuntarily he felt himself become aroused. “I’m not sure this is wise,” he whispered and pulled away.
Brigitte stood trembling before him. “Would you please make love to me?”
“Wh-what?” For a moment he thought he had misunderstood.
“Alex has had a string of women throughout our marriage. Our whole marriage is nothing but a farce. I can’t stand him even touching me anymore. Please…I want you to make love to me. I want to feel like a woman again.”
He groaned. “I’m sorry, Brigitte. Believe me, I want to make love to you more than anything in the world. But I can’t. Not under these circumstances.”
“I-I don’t understand. I’m asking you to. I want you to.”
“I know.” Then as if to himself, he said, “God, this is hard.”
“If you think I’ll regret it, I won’t,” she said. “I should have divorced Alex years ago. I want a man who will love me the way you loved your wife.”
Before she would change her mind, Gerald pulled her into the house and closed the door behind her.
After the lovemaking, Brigitte lay contented with her head on Gerald’s shoulder and her legs tangled with his. So this was what making love with Gerald feels like. There had been no fireworks, no earth shattering quakes—just a calm and natural feeling of wholeness. She sighed happily. She felt sated, like after a satisfying meal. She did not worry about not being good enough or about her body not pleasing him. His tenderness spoke volumes.
“I can hear your heart beating,” she whispered.
Gerald’s arms tightened around her. “No regrets?” he asked.
“No regrets.” She smiled. “Tell me again that you love me.”
“I fell in love with you the first time I met you. You looked so beautiful and so lost. You waited all evening for Alex to show up and you were trying so hard to be patient. I remember thinking that, if you were my wife, I would never have let you go to that party alone.”
Brigitte snuggled closer. “I was attracted to you, too, but I was married. What else could I do?”
“And you’re still married.” He pulled away and looked at her. “What are we going to do about that?”
Brigitte hesitated. “I-I wish you and Alex were not partners. Is there any possibility you could leave the company?”
“It isn’t that simple.” He shook his head. “Everything I have is tied up in Power Properties, and right now, Alex is in no position to buy me out. He’s overextended and cash poor.”
“What about Natalia and Andrew?”
“They are in exactly the same position I’m in.”
“Oh, God! What a mess!”
“Don’t worry. We’ll think of something.” He pulled closer and covered her with kisses. “Now that I’ve got you, I won’t ever let you go. I would kill rather than risk losing you.”
* * *
Brigitte and Alex ate in silence with the strains of Chopin playing softly in the background. The formal dining room seemed almost gloomy in the early evening light. Alex stole a glance at his wife.
“How was your day?” he asked between bites of Beef Wellington.
She shrugged. “Nothing special.” She speared another asparagus, deftly cut a bite size piece, and brought it to her mouth.
Alex searched her face for a clue. “What did you do all day?”
Brigitte kept her eyes on her plate. “What do you want Alex, a minute by minute playback?”
“I’m only
trying to make conversation.”
Brigitte sighed. “Sorry.” She put down her fork and continued. “My life is so boring—shopping, lunches, just a lot of killing time. Why don’t you tell me about your day? It has to be more interesting than mine. What are you working on lately?”
Alex hesitated. “I’m working on solving problems—nothing that would interest you.”
She looked up, suddenly interested. “Problems? What kind of problems.”
“Just the regular stuff. You know…cash flow.”
“How bad is it?”
“It isn’t bad. It’s just that I have my eye on a piece of land and the board is against buying anything right now. We’re a bit tight at the moment.”
Brigitte pushed away her plate and looked up. “What piece of land is that?”
“In Atlantic City. Some dumpy hotel.” He waved his hand dismissively. “But the location is prime. I’m sure I can pick it up for a song.”
“How can you be so sure? Atlantic City properties are not cheap.”
“This one is. Besides, the owner has no idea I’m interested. If he did, the price would skyrocket.”
Nonchalantly she asked. “How much do you think you can pick it up for?”
Alex laughed. “Two mil. But with what I plan to do with it, it’s worth five times that amount.”
Brigitte folded her linen napkin. “What’s the name of the hotel?” she asked casually.
* * *
Chapter 20
Anne Turner sat at the coffee-stained marble table, a smoldering cigarette hanging from the corner of her pink mouth. She sighed and flipped impatiently through the thick pile of legal papers under the watchful eyes of her son. Pausing, she read one page slowly.
Finally, she looked up. “Are you sure this can work?”
He smiled confidently. “Absolutely.”
She pulled the cigarette from her mouth and tapped it on the edge of the overflowing ashtray. “Even if it does work, it would take years. I don’t understand why you don’t want to confront him. You really don’t need to go through all of this complicated legal stuff, you know. He owes us.”
The young man hesitated. “Believe me. I know what I’m doing. When I’m through with Alex Ivanov, I won’t be walking away with a measly couple million dollars.” He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms across his broad chest. “It won’t happen overnight, but when I’m finished, I’ll control Power Properties.”
Anne Turner’s pink lips broke into a smile. “I like the sound of that,” she said and her blue eyes twinkled, allowing a brief glimpse of her former beauty. “I really like the sound of that.”
* * *
Chapter 21
One and a half years has passed since David’s death and six months since Brigitte’s release from the clinic. During that time, Alex had managed to stay a short step or two ahead of financial disaster. There had been no spectacular new success for Power Properties, no grandiose restorations, and no major deals, only a few overpriced purchases of land and hotels and the constant and ongoing struggle to keep the creditors at bay.
The board of directors was gathered around the long mahogany conference table. The mood was palpably dark.
“Our best chance,” explained Gerald Masson, “is to go public. That’s the only hope we have of raising the kind of money we need.”
“We’ve already looked into that,” replied Alex morosely. “Besides, Power Properties has always been a privately owned company and I’d like to keep it that way. The process of taking a company public would take anywhere from a year to—” He shook his head, dismissing the idea. “—God knows when. We don’t have that much time. The banks are breathing down our necks as it is.”
From across the table, Natalia listened avidly, her heavily made-up eyes darting from Alex to Gerald. She leaned forward eagerly after Alex spoke and tapped the thick report resting on the table before her. “It’s not too late. According to this report, the public has no idea of the problems we’re having. Our reputation is solid. If we don’t go public, we can still try to find some investors. We all know how much the press loves us. All we need is a flurry of new publicity, some articles about the casinos or Power Properties Tower, and people will jump at the chance to invest.”
Andrew, silent until then, broke into the discussion. “No way! Forget investors. The amount we need is too high. We’d only end up losing control of the company.” He shook his head. “We’re barely holding on as it is. Besides, even if we managed to get private investors on a debt rather than on an equity basis, it would only mean higher payments. We can’t afford the payments we have as it is.” He glared at Alex and continued coldly. “Why you had to buy those properties in Atlantic City, I really don’t know. You paid top dollar for every one of them.”
Alex interrupted. “I must admit, it was uncanny how the owners held on until we offered the maximum I was willing to pay. It was almost as though they knew what we had agreed our top price would be.”
Andrew continued. “I’m fed up with doing everything your way. Look at the mess you’ve put the company in.”
Before anybody could respond to Andrew’s statement, there was a knock at the door and a moment later, Leonora Hart, Alex’s private secretary, rushed in.
“What is it, Leonora?” asked Alex, irritated at the intrusion. When the board of directors was in a meeting, nobody was allowed to disturb them.
“Sorry to intrude,” said Leonora, composed as always. Only the slightest tremor in her voice suggested her nervousness. “We have a small problem at the front desk. That lawyer is out there again. He refuses to leave.”
“What, again?” exclaimed Alex impatiently. “How many times has the guy been here? Doesn’t he know by now that I don’t want to see him?”
“He insists on having an appointment with you, sir. He says he has something personal to discuss with you.”
“Oh, for Chrissake. I don’t have time for this.”
“Sir, he’s been here every day for the last three weeks. I don’t know what to do with him anymore.”
“Call security,” said Alex. “Have him thrown out again, and this time warn him that if he ever sets foot in this building again, we’ll have him slapped with a restraining order.”
Leonora nodded, relieved. “Thank you, sir. I didn’t want to make that decision without your approval.” She left as quickly as she had come in.
“Where were we?” asked Alex as soon as the door closed behind her.
“In deep shit, Alex,” replied Andrew. “In real deep financial shit.”
* * *
In his mahogany-paneled office, Alex looked out the window. From his vantage point high above Manhattan he could see clear across the city, all the way beyond the river to Brooklyn.
I’m on top of the world. That’s a long way from the ‘end of the world,’ he thought, remembering how he used to refer to Brooklyn as a child. Now if I can just hold on long enough to get back on solid ground.
For nearly twenty-five years, Alex had worked and built his company into one of the most impressive real estate holdings in the world. It had often seemed as though he was only playing at a giant game of Monopoly; one at which he always won. More than the endless hours of hard work he had put into Power Properties, there had been one other factor he could not deny. Luck!
Like Natalia used to say, I have a horseshoe up my ass. Indeed, for a long time, it had seemed that no matter what he did, Alex Ivanov could never go wrong. Now, his luck had finally run out. During the last few years, every property he had purchased had been bought for top dollar. How the hell did they always know exactly how high I was willing to go?
Suddenly, the telephone rang, interrupting Alex’s dark thoughts. He picked up the receiver and answered harshly. “What is it, Leonora?”
At the other end, Alex’s secretary sounded apologetic. “Sorry, Mr. Ivanov. Sidney Elmsby of the First Country Bank is on line four.”
Alex took a deep breath and picked up l
ine four. “Sidney,” he exclaimed, carefully hiding his nervousness with an easy manner. “I haven’t spoken to you in a long time. How are you?”
The president’s voice came back dryly. “I’m fine Alex. The question, really, is how are you? I’m told you’ve fallen behind on your payments again. I don’t think I need to tell you how unhappy that makes me. I’m afraid I have to ask you to come and see me at your earliest convenience.”
Alex felt his stomach tighten. “Sure, Sidney. Let me take a look at my calendar and I’ll give you a shout back.”
There was a moment of silence at the other end of the line. Then Sidney Elmsby’s voice came back more insistently. “I’m afraid that’s not good enough, Alex. Unless we meet before your next payment is due in two weeks, the First Country Bank will have no choice but to start proceedings to seize Power Properties’ assets.”
“Sidney, you have nothing to worry about,” Alex reassured. “Let me take a look at my calendar and I’ll get back to you.” After Alex put down the receiver, the telephone rang again immediately. He picked it up angrily and almost shouted. “What is it now, Leonora?”
“He’s here again, the lawyer.” There was a tremor to her voice.
“For Chrissake, Leonora. How many times do I have to tell you? Why are you bothering me with this? Call security. Have him thrown out.”
“Sir, I would,” she answered, in a gruff whisper. “But he’s handcuffed himself to me.”
“What?” For a second, Alex had a vision of Leonora Hart, the indomitable secretary of steel, in a situation over which she had no control. The thought was ludicrous, and for a moment Alex almost forgot about his problems. He chuckled.
Scorpio Series Boxed Set Page 37