by Nele Neuhaus
“How often does she see him?” he asked.
“Three times last week,” Silvio said. “Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. They spent the entire weekend together. They went to Central Park, a couple of bars, the Washington Square Arch, and went shopping.”
“Did she also…stay overnight?”
“Er…yes.”
Sergio swept the photos off his desk and stood up. With a stony expression, he stared down over the city from his office window on the top floor of the VITAL Building. The thought that she may have talked to this guy about him, maybe even laughed about him, was eating away at Sergio. This humiliation was a defeat that he could hardly bear. “What do you want me to do?”
Kill the bastard, Sergio thought, but then he relaxed.
“Nothing,” he said without turning around. “Watch him and keep me posted.”
Silvio picked up the photos and left the office. Sergio sat down at his desk and buried his face in his hands. Nelson was so right about her! He had almost trusted Alex! He really thought that he meant something to her! Now, she was more interested in a miserable newspaper hack who rollerbladed in the park! For the first time he could remember, his private life consumed him to such a degree that he neglected his business—which made him even angrier. Alex had developed into a dangerous obsession.
Alex couldn’t get out of the annual charity event sponsored by LMI at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, though she considered every conceivable excuse. A personal invitation from Vincent Levy was an order. For a moment, she considered asking Oliver to join her so that he could get a closer look at these Wall Street sharks—whom he loved to observe and disparage—but then she decided against it. She really liked Oliver. He was funny, sensitive, and intelligent. She didn’t feel an unpleasant pressure to play any role with him. The last weekend—the third they’d spent together—might not have been as spectacular as the ones with Sergio, but it was much more relaxed and entertaining. She and Oliver went roller-blading in Central Park, visited the Frick, shopped at Zabar’s, and spent an entire afternoon people-watching in Washington Square Park. And the day built up into a great night together. There was no tense competition for dominance between them, no tactics, no acting as with Sergio. Sergio! He was the real reason Alex didn’t want to attend this event, but she couldn’t avoid him forever. For three weeks, she had consistently ignored his phone calls, voice mails, and the flowers that he sent to her office.
When she arrived at the Met, the tension was almost unbearable. Sergio was suddenly right in front of her. She had almost forgotten how it felt to be in his presence. He looked breathtakingly handsome. If she thought her time with Oliver would erase all her feelings for Sergio, then she was mistaken.
“Good evening, cara,” he said. The sound of his dark voice made her shiver. “I was hoping I’d see you tonight.”
“Hello, Sergio,” Alex replied with a tentative smile. “I hoped so, too.”
“You look stunning.” Sergio didn’t say a single word about how Alex had been obviously avoiding him. He pretended everything was just fine. They chatted for a while, just like distant acquaintances, until he finally posed the question that seemed to burn in his soul.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’ve been avoiding me the past few weeks?” He made it sound casual, taking two glasses of champagne from the passing waiter’s tray and handing one to Alex. She noticed that Zack was roaming near them, curiously watching from the corner of his eye.
“Why should I avoid you?” she asked.
“I was wondering the same thing.” He sipped his champagne and observed her closely.
“I’m very busy at work.” Alex lowered her voice. She knew Zack’s ears perked up. “And when I saw in the paper that you’d rather be accompanied by Farideh Azzaeli, I figured you were tired of me.”
He smiled, but his eyes were penetrating.
“Are you jealous?” he inquired.
“No, I’m not. I certainly know other men besides you.” She said this with a sense of malicious satisfaction as she watched the smile fade from his face. “I don’t need to be stood up. There was a time when I thought that you cared about me, but you obviously don’t. I don’t feel like playing games.”
Sergio raised his eyebrows.
“Games?”
“Exactly. What else would you call this? A relationship? First you call to tell me to keep my weekend open, and then I read in the newspaper that you’re screwing this skinny bitch!”
He didn’t like her vulgarity, but as usual, he hid every emotion behind his expressionless face.
“I didn’t have sex with that woman,” he said.
“Oh really?” Alex grimaced in disgust. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“But it’s true. And after all, you stood me up first.”
“I have a tough job,” Alex said, without averting her gaze from his blue eyes. “I work eighty hours every week, and I can’t always be available whenever you feel like it.”
“What do you expect from me?” Sergio asked.
Yes, what did she expect? Did she expect anything at all from him anymore? Alex suddenly lost interest in this childish trial of strength. She didn’t feel like arguing with him.
“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s talk about it some other time. I had a long day.”
Sergio took a long and close look at her, and then he nodded.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. “It would be nice of you to stop having someone else make excuses for you.”
Alex suddenly thought of Oliver, and she felt even more miserable. She had not even talked to him about Sergio. To her own surprise, she wished she was courageous enough to tell Sergio to leave her alone. Before he could say anything else, she pushed through the crowd toward the coat check.
Alex stood on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum and took a deep breath. She longed for Oliver. Suddenly, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed his number. But she got his voice mail. Disappointed, she put her phone back in her purse. She sat down on the steps with a sigh and lit a cigarette. She didn’t care if anyone saw her. After a while, she started to feel better. She flicked the cigarette butt and went looking for a taxi. She leaned on a telephone pole, taking in the mild night air, but no taxi passed.
She was just planning on returning to the museum to tell Sergio to forget about calling when a piercing scream startled Alex out of her thoughts. In the dim light of the streetlamp, she saw two men attacking a woman who had just left the museum. Without thinking, Alex jumped up, slipped her heels off her feet, and ran over to them. The woman was lying on the ground while one of the men pulled at her purse and the other—a scruffy white guy with rotten teeth—kicked her. Alex rammed her elbow with full force into the kicking man’s back. He fell, hitting his head against a wall. His buddy let go of the purse in surprise. Alex had finally found an outlet for her pent-up frustration. She took a swing and slammed her purse into the other guy’s face and then kicked him in the groin. This sent him to his knees with a gurgling groan. With sheer panic in her eyes, the woman crawled to the side.
“Are you okay?” Alex asked the woman.
The two men had run off.
“I…I think so,” the woman whispered. Her skirt had slipped up, and her knee was bleeding. She was in a state of shock, her purse pressed to her chest. Tears ran down her face. She was probably in her early forties and appeared very refined. Some passersby had stopped on the other side of the street, and two men ran over to them.
“Could you please call the police?” Alex shouted, leaning over the woman, whose entire body was trembling.
“My necklace,” the woman whispered and felt her neck. “They tore it off me.”
“It can’t be too far from here.” Alex stroked the woman’s arm to calm her. One of the passersby from the other side of the street found the necklace on the pavement. Seconds later, a police car came rushing up with the siren howling. Another appeared shortly thereafter. The police offic
ers asked the woman how she was doing and what had happened.
“I was at a charity event in the Metropolitan Museum,” the woman said quietly. “I thought I could walk home from here. It’s only three blocks away.”
The woman, who was still holding firmly onto Alex’s hand, starting crying again.
“You’re lucky this lady came to your rescue.”
“I’m so grateful to you!” The woman wiped her tears, smudging her makeup with the back of her hand. “How can I possibly thank you?”
“Anyone would have done that,” Alex replied. “It’s okay.”
“Unfortunately, that’s anything but the norm,” one of the police officers said. He seemed impressed. “Most people quickly move on when they see someone in trouble. Besides, those guys could have been armed.”
“But they weren’t.” Alex looked at her watch. “Can you take this lady home? I have to pick up my shoes and go home.”
“Please!” The woman grasped Alex’s hand again. “Please come with me! I live on Park Avenue, not far from here. Our driver can take you home from there, so you don’t need a taxi.”
Alex hesitated. She didn’t want to be celebrated as the Great Rescuer. After the police took more information, and sent a squad car to track down the muggers, Alex was surprised to discover that she had rushed to the aid of world-famous opera singer Madeleine Ross-Downey. She decided to get into the police car after all, which took them to 1016 Park Avenue. Alex knew the area because Sergio’s apartment was in the building right next to the Downeys’. Park Avenue between Sixtieth and Eightieth Streets was the finest and most expensive area in the city. The rich and powerful lived in large, historic buildings that would better fit a gorgeous Paris boulevard. This elitist microcosm was shielded from the poverty and desperation of East Harlem, just a mile away. Security personnel and private bodyguards made sure that Park Avenue was just as secure as a small town. The doorman of 1016 was shocked when he saw the battered Mrs. Ross-Downey climb out of the police car. She was past the initial shock, and she assured the worried doorman that she was fine.
“Is it all right if I leave you here, Mrs. Ross-Downey?” Alex asked.
“Oh please, call me Madeleine.” The opera singer gave her an unsure smile. “And please, come upstairs for a moment. My husband wouldn’t forgive me if I failed to introduce him to the woman who rescued me.”
Alex was curious about the apartment and Madeleine’s husband, Trevor Downey. The papers called him “Manhattan’s Department Store King,” the heir of the department-store chain with the same name. The two of them rode up in the marble-clad elevator to the third floor. The doorman had called upstairs, so Trevor was waiting in the open apartment door. He embraced his wife in both shock and relief, and she started to cry once again.
When Madeleine regained her composure, she introduced Alex to her husband. Trevor Downey was in his mid-forties, and he had thin sandy hair and friendly brown eyes. They went into one of the salons, which was dominated by a massive fireplace, and sat down on soft leather armchairs. Trevor poured a glass of cognac each for his wife and Alex, which they both gladly accepted. While Madeleine eloquently described the mugging and Alex’s courageous actions, Alex looked around at the luxurious apartment. With its shiny wood floors, artfully illuminated paintings in splendid golden frames, and valuable antiques, it seemed friendlier than Sergio’s cold marble palace in the adjacent building. Through the opened wing doors, she noticed a snow-white concert grand piano in the neighboring salon. Trevor wrapped a wool blanket around his poor wife’s shoulders and stroked her cheek. It was obvious that the Downeys shared a deep love and respect for each other. Alex felt a sting inside that felt almost like jealousy. For the first time in her life, Alex sensed that money and success weren’t everything.
“I can’t believe that I could be so careless.” Madeleine clutched her cognac glass with both hands. Her face was pale and tear stained, but she seemed to be fairly calm in her familiar environment. “Don and Liz, who went with me, wanted to take me home. But then I thought that a short walk wouldn’t hurt. When you live in such a protected world, I guess you lose your perspective.”
Trevor put his hand on her shoulder.
“The important thing is that nothing worse happened to you, thanks to your rescuer.” He smiled at Alex.
“That was incredibly courageous of you, Alex!” Madeleine’s eyes sparkled with admiration, and then she giggled quietly. “You really went after those two crooks! Weren’t you scared at all?”
“Everything happened so fast that I didn’t have any time to think about it,” Alex admitted. She briefly thought about her raging anger at Sergio and her entire situation, which she’d unleashed against those two men. But she decided not to mention her dark thoughts to these cultivated people. It was better to let them think of her as the noble rescuer.
“My wife and I would like to thank you for your courageous and selfless intervention, in any case.” Trevor sat down next to his wife, and they held hands.
“We’ll tell Nick all about it,” Madeleine said. “He’ll be shocked because he works so hard for safety in this city. And then something like this happens, to me of all people!”
“Mayor Nick Kostidis and his wife Mary are close friends of ours,” Trevor explained. “Pardon my rudeness, Alex, but in all this excitement I forgot your last name.”
“Sontheim. Alex Sontheim.”
“Ah.” He leaned forward and looked at her with renewed interest. “Yes, of course! Alex Sontheim. This evening’s event was organized by your employer, after all. I’ve heard a great deal about you. You have a remarkable reputation on Wall Street.”
“Thank you very much.” Alex smiled humbly. She enjoyed that even Manhattan’s Department Store King knew her name. If he was a friend of the mayor, she realized that he couldn’t possibly be a friend of Sergio.
“Wall Street?” Madeleine asked in astonishment. “Do you work at the stock exchange?”
“No, an investment bank,” Alex responded. “I’m the head of the mergers and acquisitions department at LMI.”
“How fascinating!” Madeleine exclaimed.
“It’s nothing to write home about.” Alex shrugged her shoulders.
“It certainly is.” Madeleine looked at her with curious eyes. “I always thought that just men were involved in that business. Somehow I had a completely different image of investment bankers.”
“And I thought that all opera singers look like Montserrat Caballé,” Alex countered with a smile, which finally broke the ice. They liked each other straightaway. All three of them laughed, and Trevor poured another round of cognac.
It was two thirty in the morning. Alex glanced at her watch and was amazed to realize how late it was. Trevor insisted on having his chauffeur drive Alex home. She gratefully accepted this offer after the Downeys made her promise to get together again. Alex sat in the back of the limousine and stared out the window in contemplation. The past three hours that she had spent with the Downeys showed her with great clarity what was missing in her life. She had never before wasted a single thought on marriage and friendship because her career was always more important, but she had felt lonely many times during the past few months. She had no real friends in her life. She no longer had any idea at all what she really wanted, which was a strange and oppressive feeling. On an impulse, Alex asked the chauffeur to drive her to Barrow Street. She hoped that Oliver was at home and wouldn’t be angry with her for showing up at his place in the middle of the night. It took a while before he came to the intercom half asleep.
“It’s me, Alex,” she said. “Sorry that I’m waking you this late, but can you let me in?”
If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He answered the door in his boxer shorts and smiled with sleepy eyes. Without saying a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. His skin was warm and smelled slightly like sweat. Suddenly she was overcome with the desire for him on the spot, to be as intimate as Madeleine and Trevor
. They fumbled their way to his bed and made love tenderly.
“And now you can tell me everything,” Oliver said as they rested side by side, holding each other tightly, pleasantly exhausted. Alex barely mentioned the event at the museum, but she described in detail how she’d virtually knocked out the two men, how the police showed up, and her surprise when she discovered the identity of the woman she had rushed to help. She told him about the Downeys and their apartment, while Oliver listened with an impressed look on his face. Alex felt very close to him and decided to reveal a little more about herself.
“I was embarrassed at how often she thanked me and how they treated me like a noble and selfless rescuer,” she said.
“But that’s what you were,” Oliver objected. “I wouldn’t have dared to attack two guys. Honestly. That’s courage.”
“No.” Alex turned to the side so that she could see him better in the half dark of the night. “It was more an impulsive reaction. I was so incredibly mad that it was simply an outlet for my anger. If I’d had a baseball bat instead of my purse, I would have beaten those guys to a pulp.”
Oliver looked at her with sleepy eyes and stroked her arm.
“It makes you furious watching helplessly while someone gets mugged,” he said. He didn’t understand.
“It had nothing to do with the mugging,” Alex said as she shook her head. “I ran into the man I’d been…er…seeing for the past few months at the event.”
“I thought that was me.” Oliver smiled.
“I haven’t talked about him because I didn’t know exactly what to say,” Alex said. “It’s a strange thing with him, nothing serious. He’s married.”
“Not good.”
“I never planned on having a serious relationship with him,” Alex explained. “When I met him, I told myself that it would be fine to go out every once in a while and have some fun. Besides that, he knows many important people, and I thought that I could benefit in some way.”