Oh, god, a nag. That gave her chills. She knew better than to nag Lydia about rumors and speculation. Lydia was not sleeping with Venus Angelo. She was not in love with Venus Angelo.
“Dr. Kristenson?”
“I’m sorry, Sam. Let me think on this, okay? I’m not making any promises, but maybe it’s something I can get to after the tour. For now I’ll just think on it. That’s my only promise.”
Riding the elevator down, Helaine couldn’t chase her dark thoughts away. Time was, as always, an issue. She had one more afternoon session, then she could go home. She was thinking of when to discuss the world tour with Lydia and that tonight would just not be the right time.
Time, time, time, the enemy, she acknowledged, critiquing herself as she primped in the ladies’ lounge downstairs. She could not, this lady knew, indefinitely compete with girls.
Maybe not, she admitted on the ride back to her office, but Lydia Beaumont was, after all, hers to lose, her Mr. Right to keep. Like it or not, a game was underfoot for her affections so she had to compete. This would be tricky and she’d have to go by the book on this one. Every single letter of it. She wasn’t angry with Venus about it and she could never dislike her, but the young woman was not going to get Lydia Beaumont, nor was she going to win her by default. That would have to be over her dead body.
_____
Lydia spent the rest of the day shopping with Delilah and chewing the fat, but her thoughts were predominantly on Venus this afternoon. She was thinking that perhaps she had been aware of the girl’s growing attachment and had, indeed, deliberately ignored it. She was thinking also that it was flattering, very flattering at forty-one to be “idolized” as Paula had put it earlier, by such a person as Venus Angelo. She was thinking also of Helaine, who would be hurt by these rumblings and speculations.
“You’ve got to consider how Helaine would feel, Liddy. You don’t want to let this get out of hand so that everybody’s gossiping about you, saying that you’re having an affair. Whether you are or not.”
She would never have an affair because she couldn’t really imagine it, having sex with anyone but Helaine Kristenson. Not with anyone, including the lovely and devoted Venus Angelo. Why would she need to? “I would never have an affair, Del. You know that.”
That she had been attracted to Venus sometimes was pointless to deny, but there was nothing to confess there. She had never ventured very far with it in her mind. Admittedly, now that she was aware that those feelings might be mutual, it could be awkward to have Venus continue in her duties with her. It would be even worse to think that Paula was watching them suspiciously, having already prejudged the situation. Definitely something had to be done here. It was a very indelicate situation. Very distracting.
Lydia strolled with Delilah, considering aloud the various options and alternatives that Paula Treadwell had put before her at lunch, other than demoting Ms. Angelo, which was patently unethical and unfair. Her number one priority, she emphasized, had nothing to do with Paula or Soloman-Schmitt or her assistant. Her concerns were for Helaine. And, not incidentally, their love life.
“Boy, this is a shame, Liddy. Venus is a great kid. Sharp as a whip.”
“I honestly don’t know how I can part with her.”
Delilah understood the quandary. “But I honestly don’t know how you can keep her. Has anything actually happened? Anything that could technically be considered an impropriety?”
What constitutes an impropriety, Lydia wondered. Her hands on my thighs? “Uh…no. Not really,” she said bashfully.
Delilah stopped dead in her tracks. “Liddy?”
“C’mon, Del, we shower together at the club. Once she massaged my knee when I hur–”
“Liddy, she has to go then!”
“Right. You’re right. I realize that. Now.”
They walked quietly after that until they passed the window of “one of those delightful little boutiques” as Helaine discreetly referred to them.
“Ooh!” Lydia exclaimed. “I want that.”
“Liddy, what on earth do you do with such a thing?”
Lydia explained it in a whisper. Delilah grinned. Together they looked furtively over their shoulders and stepped quickly inside.
Homeward bound, Delilah offered her commentary. “You two are so sexually obsessed with each other. I don’t know when you could even think about having an affair, showers or not.”
“Sexually obsessed? You really think so?”
_____
“It’s Lydia, Dr. Kristenson.”
“Thanks, Jenny. I’ll take it in my office.”
Jenny connected them.
“Lana.”
“Darling, I was just thinking of you.”
“When will you be home?”
“Why, you want to meet me for dinner?”
“No, I want you home.”
“Oh, I see. What time?”
“Ummmm…now?”
“Well, Ms. Beaumont. I don’t know if I can slide you in that soon.”
“I have a surprise…?”
“Ah. Well, in that case, I’ll meet you in an hour.”
Chapter 5
What a Prince Must Do to Save Reputation
She couldn’t do it. Even knowing that Paula was waiting for her to, didn’t get it accomplished. How could she survive without Venus? Where could she send her anyway? Not up, she was too young for that. Not down, she was too good for that. And why should she hand her over crossways, to a lesser VP? Who could she replace her with once she was gone? How long would it take to train someone even if she could find a replacement, which was unlikely? How would she explain it to Venus? What if they ever had to work together again? Where would–?
“Beaumont! Get up here now.”
“I’m coming, Paula.”
“I had an interesting chat with your assistant last night. Ran into her at Cicero’s, of all places. That seedy jazz club downtown?”
Yes, yes, Cicero’s. Lydia had heard of it. Helaine liked to go there sometimes. “Go on.”
“Yeah. Well, anyway. Seems she’s getting a divorce.”
Lydia was surprised by Paula’s news. Venus hadn’t told her this.
“I smell potential for scandal. Get her out of there, Beaumont.”
“There is nothing going on, Paula. I have scrutinized her every move, every nuance, from the moment you first told me your suspicions and I haven’t seen anything unusu–”
“I am not going to fire this kid, Beaumont. She’s too valuable to me. Put in a request for a transfer or have her do it herself, you coward, but I want it done.”
Italian leather couch to her left looked awfully comfortable. VP Beaumont sat down in it, said nothing.
“Vice President of Overseas Operations says you can trade assistants. I didn’t explain the necessity.” She studied Lydia. “Your hesitation in this matter concerns me, Beaumont. You look bad. Do this by the end of next week,” she said. “She’ll get more pay, of course. It’ll be fine.”
Lydia rose looking pale, Paula’s henchman again. “Okay, Paula. Anything else?”
“That’s all. See you at the board meeting Friday.”
(Board meeting?)
“Did you forget?”
She had. “No, no, I remembered. See you Friday.”
_____
Shunned. Why, she didn’t exactly know. Venus was now working for VP Kendle, a leering blue-hair who talked with a lisp and bathed in cologne. The office reeked of it and she was sure she did, too. Never mind. It’s more money and includes travel.
She had forced herself to accept the reality that her crush on VP Beaumont would go nowhere and had allowed herself instead to be swept up with Sebastion Jones, whom she had met at Frank’s Place weeks ago. Her divorce was pending, Michael had left the apartment and she was glad not to have to sleep alone all the time.
Actually she enjoyed Sebastion’s company. He was smooth and sexy and there was something about the man that inspired images of a pirat
e for her. He was very much a pirate in bed. A fine specimen.
Mama like him. Jasmine liked him. Even her father seemed pleased with the match.
No word from Lydia, though. That was cold. Venus had run into her only twice since being reassigned and both times the woman had acted shy and aloof. She had considered confronting her about the transfer, but couldn’t think of how to do it and in the end decided against it. Forget confrontations. Forget about it. She had scaled every obstacle life had thrown in her path. This was nothing compared to living in the hood or feeling isolated at the Ivy League. Pale in comparison. Except that she never ached so deeply about those things.
_____
“How’s Venus? You haven’t mentioned her in awhile.”
Lydia tried to dodge the inquiry. “Good,” she mumbled into the sheets.
“Good? What on earth does that mean? It’s so illiterate sounding.”
“I transferred her, Helaine.”
“Transferred? What for? Why?”
Lydia rolled over and sat up.
“Lydia Beaumont. You answer me. You wanted to get rid of her?”
“Helaine, we…I transferred her. People get transferred at the firm all the time.”
“Well, that’s just bullshit, Lydia. What do you think I am? A dumb blond? Why would you transfer your top girl? Look at me. Why?”
They locked eyes. Lydia went for her robe. Helaine went for hers.
“Hiding her somewhere is not a resolution, Lydia. Believe me. I’m the expert here. That will only make it worse.”
“What are you talking about? Why do you care?”
“You know what I’m talking about and I care because Venus is a fine young woman and she doesn’t deserve this–this–Treadwell treachery.”
Lydia flinched. “There were rumors and speculation. I didn’t want you to–”
“I already heard them, Lydia! It was not a problem. This will make it a problem. You will miss each other. Long for each–”
“Helaine!”
Helaine stood quietly now, grasping her robe.
Lydia spoke calmly. “It’s done. It can’t be undone. Venus seems fine with it.”
Helaine sat on the edge of the bed. “And you? You miss her terribly, don’t you?”
Lydia sat beside her. “Helaine, really. I’m fine with it. You’re the only one I could ever miss like that and you know it.”
_____
“Well, you’re a fool, Kristenson. You want those ladies together?”
“Treadwell, I can’t abide by this solution. It will have an opposite effect, I can assure you. I’ve seen it happen before.”
“It’s done, Kristenson. Beaumont’s happy with her new assistant. The end.”
“If she’s so happy with him, why doesn’t she say so?”
“What–she discusses everything with you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
_____
“Beaumont, tell your blond bomb how happy you are with your new assistant. That’s an order.”
Lydia rolled her eyes and laughed. Cocktail party at the Treadwell’s. She felt a little tipsy tonight. “Why should I do that? I despise his incompetent, lazy ass.”
“You told her that?”
“No. I thought it better to say nothing at all. What’s this about anyway?”
“Kindly tell her how happy everybody is with the arrangement and get her off my ass.”
“Hah! I’ll try that, Paula. I’m sure it’ll make a big difference coming from me.”
“Good–are you drunk?”
“I am.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk, Beaumont. Where is Helaine tonight?”
“She didn’t want to come, Paula. She loathes us. Our stunning lack of decency and ethics and loyalty and honesty and integrity and–”
“Ugh. Well, see what you can do. I’d better get you some coffee.”
_____
“Kristenson, why is this so important to you?”
“A number of reasons, not the least of which is that I don’t want you meddling in my personal affairs or complicating them.”
“And I don’t want you meddling in the corporation’s affairs. So you can see how we are at cross purposes here.”
“Treadwell, you say you did this for my benefit, therefore it is my business.”
“What is it about me you don’t like, Kristenson? I bend over backwards to please you.”
“I have a client due in five minutes. That isn’t enough time to tell you.”
“Oh, come on, Helaine. What do you actually like about me then?”
“Well, that I have time for since the list is so short.”
“Yes? Go on?”
“Paula, I like that you’re indomitable. Fishing for compliments this afternoon? That must mean you have some guilt over the matter.”
“What is done is done and it can’t be undone. Good day, Dr. Kristenson. I like that you’re indomitable, too. Sometimes.” (click)
Chapter 6
Feared, Hated, Despised and Loved
Lydia Beaumont wore a platinum band on her wedding finger. So did Helaine Kristenson. They probably never took them off. Venus had despised her wedding band and was not too eager to wear one again, although Sebastion, who had never been married before, frequently dropped hints that he’d like to try it one day. They had known each other only a few months. It seemed so premature. Besides, she hated the subject.
She should make a decision soon though, she feared. Considering the possibility that she might be pregnant.
Her parents inquired about her plans. Her sister inquired about her plans. Even Paula Treadwell, happy to learn of a Sebastion in Venus’ life, inquired about her plans. The ever elusive Lydia Beaumont, however, did not.
Venus concentrated on her new job, which she was beginning to enjoy. If she ever re-married, she decided, she wanted a platinum wedding ring. That might make it more doable.
Happily the pregnancy test came back negative.
Chapter 7
Secretaries, Princes and Fortresses
He was an “Entertainment Consultant.” Whatever that was. Venus had investigated his claim, found his company publicly rated and traded and concluded that what she knew about Sebastion Jones, the prince of pirates, was adequate enough to allow him to move in with her in the exclusive high-rise apartment that she had once shared with her husband.
Sebastion was “Assistant to the Chairman.” This probably explained his unusual hours.
Venus was “Assistant to the Vice President of Overseas Operations.” That definitely explained her long absences.
It was an ideal union. Venus and Sebastion rarely saw each other.
All that combined to also explain why she rarely saw VP Beaumont either, even if their offices were only two floors apart and their homes only three blocks away from each other.
But absence makes the heart grow fonder, they do say. And, in tricky times, it is better to be impetuous than cautious.
_____
“I miss you---V.”
Lydia read and then reread the note before folding it several times and putting it in her breast pocket. She missed her former assistant terribly. She was irreplaceable.
_____
“I miss you---V.”
Helaine read and reread the note before folding it the way she had found it and putting it back in Lydia’s breast pocket. She slipped the coat on a hanger in the closet and said absolutely nothing about it. In the morning she checked the coat pocket again. The note was not there. Nor was it to be found in any of the trash receptacles.
Lydia was turning forty-two this year. Months away, she had already informed Helaine that she wanted a quiet celebration. Just the two of them. Just the two of them and one mid-life crisis. Or at least the early manifestations of one.
The woman was preoccupied nearly all the time now with her alleged signs of aging and, as far as Dr. Kristenson could tell, it was the injured knee, long since healed, that
had set things off. After that, there was a host of other minor ailments that had begun to stress Lydia. The strands of gray hair–which Helaine didn’t have the heart to say had been there since she had known her. The shortness of breath–after running six miles. Perceived weakness in one or both of her biceps–after weight training. Changes in her complexion…the note troubled Dr. Kristenson.
Helaine was four years older than her mate, but she didn’t mind the idea of growing old with Lydia Beaumont. She didn’t lose sleep over accumulating grays, or, for that matter, the wrinkles that bunched near her eyes. They were laugh lines, not ones from sorrow or worry. As to aches and pains, these she experienced, too. And recently she had even missed a few periods. These were merely gentle nudges to Helaine, the body keeping her psyche apprised of what time it actually was on the biological clock. Yes, she was aging, but she felt much younger than forty-six and most times she knew she looked younger than forty-six. Unless she thought of Venus.
_____
“Lana?”
“Uh-oh. What time is it?”
“One o’clock. I nee–can you get out early?”
Helaine laughed low and whispered into the receiver. “Lydia, I have a client.”
“After that?”
“Darling, have you forgotten? I’m meeting the Keagans at Cicero’s tonight. I won’t be home till late.”
“Dr. Kristenson…this is a medical emergency.”
Helaine paused. “Hold for me, Lydia. Can you hold?”
“Holding.”
“Jen? What’s the rest of my day look like?”
“Full, unless you get a cancellation. You need a cancellation?”
“I do. I really do.” She heard Jenny laugh. “Jen?”
“Okay, I’ll reschedule the rest of the day for you. Your one o’clock is waiting, though.”
Fortune Is a Woman Page 3