by Marie Astor
The day had started benignly enough, with Claudia waking up heartbroken but resigned to her fate. David was now forever gone from her life, but at least her sense had prevailed, and she had nixed her ridiculous revenge plan. That's what dating younger men did to a woman of a certain age — it turned her into a deranged harpy. Well, from now on, Claudia would lead a much more sensible existence. It was time to slow down; in fact, it was long overdue. Today she would permit herself to wallow in self-pity, but tomorrow morning she would call her attorney and have him look at her real estate holdings.
Claudia had properties in almost all the metropolitan centers of the world: Los Angeles, New York, Madrid, London, Paris. Back in her glory days, she had dashed from one location to the next, staying just long enough to enjoy a delicious love affair. Well, there would be no more of that. She was going to sell her properties and buy a nice little chalet in Appenzell or Wengen or some other quiet village in Switzerland. The temperate climate would be a welcome change, as would be the calm surroundings. She would keep herself busy with hiking in the summer and cross country skiing in the winter, and maybe she would take up a hobby, like knitting or crocheting. Claudia sighed. The prospect did not sound particularly appealing, but deep down she knew that she deserved the self-imposed exile. At least, she would have little opportunity to embarrass herself among rolling hills and grass valleys.
Claudia was about to draw herself a bubble bath — her favored remedy for a broken heart and a bruised ego — when she noticed that her cell phone message light was on. She was about to ignore it, but a small hope inside her murmured David. Perhaps the message is from David. Her fingers icy, Claudia dialed her voicemail and was shocked to hear that she had over twenty messages. She had not had that many calls since...it was too embarrassing to admit the year. Just as Claudia was about to listen to her first message, she heard a call waiting beep. Perplexed, she switched to the other line.
“Claudia! Finally. I thought I'd never get through.” Her agent's voice boomed through the receiver. “Before I say anything else, let me congratulate you. Brilliant, you are simply brilliant!”
“Alex, what's going on?” Claudia had not spoken with her agent in almost a year. The last time he had called her was to offer her a bit part as someone's grandmother, and after Claudia had vehemently refused, Alex had stopped returning her calls.
“Marvelous! Awesome!”
Claudia shook her head and waited. Agenting was a tough trade, and perhaps Alex had finally lost it.
“The Flashlight cover of you with that David Lawson fella is downright brilliant!”
Suddenly, everything went dim as Claudia clutched the phone in a catatonic stupor.
“I can't believe I haven't thought of it myself,” Alex rattled off. “You're hot again, Claudia, sizzling hot! It just so happened that I had a wonderful script lying on my desk — the main character is a woman in her...” Alex paused hesitantly, “early forties, but these are merely details,” Alex hurried to add. “She’s dating a man much younger than herself — it's practically written for you! I took the liberty of calling the director, and he wants to see you first thing tomorrow morning. You'll have to leave for LA tonight.”
Claudia's mind raced frantically as she tried to come up with a plan. She had to call Maury immediately. There had to have been a mistake. He was not supposed to print those photos.
“Claudia? Hello? You're there?” Alex's voice pounded into Claudia's ear. “I hope you're not mad at me for being out of touch. It's been really hectic here, but I know that's no excuse. Anyway, I really hope that you will consider the part — I will messenger the script to your house right now.”
The entreating sugariness in Alex's voice made Claudia even dizzier.
“I've got to go, Alex.” With a shaking hand, Claudia hung up the phone.
Next, she hurriedly dialed Maury. Please pick up, she thought, please pick up!
“I take it you've seen the cover.”
Maury's smug voice extinguished any hope that Claudia had been kindling.
“How could you print it, Maury?”
“I thought that was what you wanted. Don't you think the photos turned out splendidly?” Maury's voice was all sugary innocence.
“I called the whole thing off, or is your memory failing you?” Claudia clenched her fists. The nerve of the weasel, to think that he could loop hoops around her as if she were some clueless idiot.
“Actually, Claudia, I don't think you know what it is you want. First, you tell me that you want the cover, and mind you, I did you a favor by giving you prime real estate,” Maury's voice prickled with irritation. “You'll forgive me if I say this, but it's not as if you were prime news a day ago.”
“How dare you!” Claudia hissed. “I plucked you out of the gutter... You ungrateful...”
Maury cut her off, “Save it, Claudia. But here's something that matters — you've become hot again — you're prime news.”
“I don't give a hoot about that. Don't you realize that you ruined David? His reputation is scandalized. His father is going to disown him.”
“Oh that, I wouldn't worry about that, Claudia. This morning I received a call from Allan Lawson's lawyer. He's agreed to buy up all the copies of Flashlight at a nifty premium - premium enough for me to retire. And as for David, in a couple of days this whole thing will blow over. No one will remember the young stud involved with Claudia Block, but everyone will remember that Claudia Block has still got it.”
“I don't believe you,” Claudia murmured, aghast. She had few friends she could count on, and now, she had even fewer. “Enjoy your retirement.”
Claudia hurled her phone against the wall, and it promptly split in two, which was just as well with her. It was not as though she would want to speak to anyone in the foreseeable future.
Woken up from her reverie, Claudia glanced at the script that her agent had messengered over. She had read it and thought it was brilliant, but no matter how much she wanted the role, she would never take it. It would be her penance, her secret atonement for the harm she had caused David. Claudia clasped the watch on her wrist, a LeCoultre with diamonds running along the dial. It was a gift from David, one of the few that she had agreed to accept from him, and the only object she had to remind her of his past adoration.
Chapter 24
When Claire heard the alarm clock ring the next morning, she lay in her bed with her eyes closed, wishing she could go right back to sleep. Not that she had gotten any sleep that night. She had been tossing and turning, reliving the nightmare that her life had become, only managing to catch a few hours of fitful oblivion at dawn. Now the merciless reality of the new day was glaring at her.
David, her unbelievably perfect fiancé, had been seeing another woman behind her back. Claire bit her lip, remembering how many times she had wondered at her good fortune. David had seemed to have everything she had ever hoped for in a man. He was handsome, hard-working, honest… Claire bit her lip harder. It turned out that David was too good to be true after all.
As much as it hurt, there was no way of avoiding the truth. David was a cheating liar, but she was a naïve fool for letting him pull the wool over her eyes. Somehow, somewhere, David had fallen out of love with her, and she had failed to notice it. Thinking back, Claire shuddered at how strained their relationship had grown. She had readily accepted David’s constant excuses, blaming his absences on the demanding nature of his work, while the truth was that he simply did not want to see her. He was seeing Claudia Block instead.
Of course, there were things Claire could do. She could fight and claw for David’s attention. She could win him back, only to watch her back constantly. No doubt, most women would choose this path, but this option did not feel right to Claire. It was not that she did not care for David, or that his infidelity did not hurt her. It was just that it hurt too much.
When Claire had found David at her doorstep last night, her first reaction had been anger. She wanted to scream at the to
p of her lungs and slap his face, but she held back, hoping that David would have the right words to dissuade her, to convince her that the picture of him and Claudia Block was a bizarre fluke, that the whole thing had a logical explanation. But all she had to do was take one look at David’s eyes – those deep blue eyes Claire had loved staring into – which told her that her fiancé was guilty as charged. There would be no magical explanation. David Lawson had lied to her, and she had been stupid enough to believe him. Even his apology had sounded forced, as David stood there, marble-mouthed, his attempt to get Claire back so feeble, it almost felt that he hoped she would say no. Well, he needn’t fear a different outcome. As far as Claire was concerned, David Lawson was nothing more to her than a very painful lesson, and now, it was time to get out of bed.
As she rode in the elevator of her office building, Claire surveyed her appearance in the mirror. Not a wisp of hair was out of place, not a wrinkle on her navy suit. Claire closed her eyes and counted till ten. David Lawson might have ruined her love life, but she would not give him the satisfaction of ruining her career.
“Good morning.” Claire walked down the office corridor, nodding her greetings at her fellow coworkers. To them, it was a morning like any other, and she would be damned if she let them think otherwise.
“I got you some coffee.” No sooner had Claire settled behind her desk that Jake was there, checking up on her under the pretext of proffering caffeine.
Claire took the cup gratefully. “Thanks, Jake. I’m fine, really.”
Jake reddened, caught red-handed. “Look, Claire, if you need to talk, you know that I’m here…”
“I know, Jake. Thanks.” Claire nodded, wishing that Jake would understand that what she needed right now was to get her mind off David Lawson, and talking about him was not it at all.
“Hey, I almost forgot. This just came in for you.” Jake handed Claire a heavily reinforced package with a multitude of stamps on it.
The return address on the package belonged to Professor Barnardo, one of the architecture professors Claire had studied with in Catalonia.
“Oh, wow. It came in early…”
It turned out that Jake did get her what she needed after all. For the moment, all thoughts of David Lawson vanished from Claire’s mind as she gingerly placed the package on her desk. Carefully, she began to cut away the tape.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it then.” Jake’s voice was neutral, but his expression betrayed his curiosity.
“The letters I’ve been waiting for from Professor Barnardo …” Claire’s eyes were bright with anticipation as she revealed a stack of paper from the wrapping. “They’re finally here!”
Noticing the questioning look on Jake’s face, Claire felt a pang of guilt. She and Jake did not keep any professional secrets from each other, but she had been reticent about the Tribeca building, not because she did not want to share her theories with Jake, but because she was too unsure of her hypothesis. Well, now, the proof was finally within her grasp, and Claire reasoned that she might as well spill the beans.
“You know that I’ve been working on trying to identify the architect for the building on Leonard Street in Tribeca, right?”
“Yes, more like obsessing with it.”
“I guess I’ve earned that one.” Claire shrugged. How could one not obsess about something so fascinating? “My theory is that it was built by one of Gaudi’s students.” It was the first time Claire had voiced her hypothesis, and somehow, it instantly felt right.
“But Gaudi did not leave a following or a school…”
“No, but he had several devoted followers. Ernesto Castelan was one of his favorite students – a young architect Gaudi took under his wing.”
“Castelan? I’ve never heard of the man.”
“He is not very famous.” Claire paused. “It’s a sad story. After he finished his apprenticeship in Catalonia, Castelan decided to try his fortune in America. He sailed for New York, where he worked for several years at all kinds of jobs until he finally got a chance to design his own building. He wanted to build it as a tribute to Gaudi, who had passed away a few years earlier…”
“And then what?”
“And that’s where the story ends. To date, the building has not been identified, and many say that the story is a myth. There are almost no records of his work, as Castelan passed away from influenza on his return voyage from New York. The only records of Castelan designing the building in question are his letters to his fiancée, who was waiting for him in Catalonia while Castelan worked in New York.”
“And these are the letters?”
“Yes.” Claire nodded. “I’d read about Castelan when I did my thesis on Gaudi, but I haven’t really thought about him since then. But when I saw the building on Leonard Street, I started thinking that Castelan could have been the architect.”
“Well, I sure hope that your theory checks out. After all, you’re the expert on the subject.”
“I’ll let you know as soon I finish reading these.” Claire smiled at Jake distractedly. The confirmation she had been waiting for all these weeks was finally within her reach, and she could not wait to see it with her own eyes.
My Dearest Sophie,
I can hardly believe that is has been almost two years since I last saw your face. I miss you more than words could ever say.
You ask me to tell you more about my life here, but there is not much to tell. The streets of New York are bustling with people, and this excitement transfers to every aspect of life here. People are constantly rushing somewhere. In the morning, the streets are filled with workers, and at night, crowds overflow the streets in search of diversion. But I take no part in the frenzy around me. Aside from you, my work is the only thought that occupies my mind.
Now that the foundation has been laid down, the building grows each day, brick by brick. Like a tree, it is spreading its branches, becoming stronger every day.
My thoughts are always with you, my beloved. Every day brings me closer to you, as I anxiously await the time of our reunion.
Love,
Ernesto
As Claire walked home along the quiet, empty street, the words of Ernesto Castelan’s letters rang in her mind. The letters were in Catalan, and Professor Barnardo had arranged for translated copies, which was the reason why it had taken several weeks for the package to arrive. Claire had been looking forward to the information the letters would have about Castelan’s work, and she had found the answer she was looking for, but she had failed to anticipate the depth of feelings the letters would contain. Now she was haunted by the beautiful words. To think that a man could spend years apart from his betrothed, faithfully awaiting their reunion – a few days ago this fact would have warmed Claire’s heart. Now, it only reminded her of everything that was wrong in her life. Why could not David have loved her as fervently and faithfully as Ernesto Castelan had loved his betrothed Sophie? Claire too wanted to be engaged to a man who thought of no one but her, but alas, David preferred to think of everyone but her, or to be more precise, he preferred to think of one person – Claudia Block.
It was no use. As much as Claire would have liked to believe that she could get over David by burying her head in work, nothing could be further from the truth. All day long, the shadow of David’s betrayal had hung over her, and now she was certain that it would plague her sleep just as it had plagued her waking hours.
Of course, if she wanted to, she could have him back. All she had to do was pick up the phone and call him. David had left her countless messages on her answering machine and sent flowers to her office. He was desperate for reconciliation, but Claire knew that she could never have David back – not the David she had fallen in love with so naively, at any rate. The only David she could hope to win back would be a disgraced liar, and she wanted nothing to do with him.
As she neared her building, Claire slowed her step, cautiously looking out for David. For all she knew, he could be keeping a vigil by her house. To h
er relief, Claire did not see any signs of her ex-fiancé and quickly ducked into the lobby of her building. All she wanted now was to get into her apartment, take a long, hot bath, and try not to think about anything for the rest of the night.
Quickly, she checked her mail. The mailbox was so tiny that if she missed emptying it even a day, it would overflow with mail the next day.
“Good evening.”
Claire took a deep breath and told herself to keep it together. Running into her upstairs neighbor posed no danger to her already miserable mood.
“Hi, Alec.”
“Hello, Claire.” Alec brushed against her as he moved to open his mailbox. “Why is it that there are always only bills in the mail?” He shrugged, holding up a pile of bills.
“I guess it figures, since hardly anyone writes letters anymore.”
“You have a point there. Although, I must say that it is a big loss…”
“Why do you say that?” Claire could not keep the surprise off her face. The last thing she expected was to hear the slick tango dancer lament about the absence of letters.
“Years ago lovers would send each other letters. Now that’s something that makes checking your mailbox worthwhile.”
Claire blushed. This conversation was heading into the wrong direction, fast. “Well, I’ve got to get going.”
“Have a good night.”
As she walked down the hall, Claire could feel Alec’s glance upon her, relieved that he did not get into the elevator with her.
Listening to the sound of Claire’s heels clicking irately on the tiled floor, Alec wondered what had possessed him to speak about love letters. It seemed that every time he ran into his downstairs neighbor, the most ridiculous thoughts popped into his head. Well, it was time to pull his head out of the clouds and attend to the pressing matters at hand – like shopping for groceries, which had been his intention before he spotted Claire in the mailroom.