“I wouldn’t want to leave Moni high and dry at the gallery,” Nina said instead. Even Robin would balk at the idea of forgoing travel plans because of a man.
Besides, it was true about the gallery, even more so after the call she’d gotten earlier in the week from Judith Chambers inviting Nina to her apartment for a light lunch on Saturday.
Nina hadn’t even been disappointed when Judith didn’t mention the possibility of letting Nina show her work: she’d been too enticed by the possibility of talking to the enigmatic woman she’d read so much about in the two months since they’d met in the park.
“Consider it an open invitation,” Robin said. “I know it’s short notice for the trip to Kenya next month, but I’ll be going to India again next year and I think you’d love it there.”
Nina smiled. “Thanks.”
Moni appeared in the kitchen with Angela. “Miss Angela would like a piece of that, if you don’t mind.”
“Absolutely,” Nina said. She held the knife on the cheesecake to indicate a giant slice. “Right here?”
Angela giggled and shook her head, her curls bouncing against her pink T-shirt. “No!”
“No?” Nina feigned surprise. “Bigger?”
Angela laughed harder. “Smaller.”
“Smaller! Okay, if you’re sure…” She moved the knife. “How’s this?”
Angela flashed Nina a big smile as she nodded.
Nina’s heart melted a little more every time she was around Moni’s daughter. Angela had a sharp wit and a ready laugh, eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a smile that lit up the room. She was her mother’s daughter in every way.
Robin started carrying the plates of cheesecake into the living room while Nina handed Angela her plate.
“Want to hang out with us for a bit?” Nina asked.
“No,” Moni said, directing her daughter out of the kitchen and toward her room.
“Aw, we’ll be good, Moni, we promise!” Karen called from the other room.
Moni laughed and shook her head. “I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you,” she called back.
Nina returned the rest of the cheesecake to the fridge and they joined everyone in the living room where Amy was describing a woman Moira worked with who was a little too friendly.
“Just tell her to stop flirting with your wife or you’ll have to cut a bitch,” Karen said.
“I am not telling my wife’s employee that I’m going to cut her. I can’t believe you still have a job sometimes,” Amy said.
“I haven’t loved a man in ages,” Karen said. “Never having to threaten to cut a bitch is one of many upsides.”
“Sounds thrilling,” Amy said drily.
They spent the next forty-five minutes talking about Karen’s official breakup with Jude — her choice after she read the writing on the wall of their fizzling relationship — and about the hot lawyer Moni had had four dates with in the past two weeks.
Nina was glad her relationship with Jack had become old hat for the group. She’d filled them in about the Tony’s and the afterparty — omitting her jealousy of Collette Rousseau — and they’d quickly moved onto other subjects.
They finished the second bottle of wine and helped Moni clean up before saying their goodbyes. It was a relief to step outside without a coat and Nina breathed in the comfortable warmth of early summer, knowing it wouldn’t last. In another month the heat would come off the pavement in waves and the city’s concrete and steel buildings would still be releasing the day’s heat at midnight.
“I think I’ll walk,” Nina said. “It’s so nice tonight.”
Jack had left for London a couple days earlier, and the free time felt like the ultimate luxury.
“I’ll walk with you for a bit,” Karen said.
Nina avoided her eyes. They’d never really talked about their conversation at the park, but it had been thick in the air between them ever since.
“You sure?” Robin asked.
Karen nodded. “There’s another station a few blocks up. Nina’s right: it’s a nice night for a walk.”
They planted kisses on each other’s cheeks and Robin and Amy headed for the station while Nina and Karen started in the opposite direction. They’d been walking for a block before Karen spoke.
“I should have apologized sooner,” she said. “I’m sorry, Neen.”
“For ridiculing my feelings about Jack and Liam or telling me I don’t know how to be happy?” Nina asked.
“Both. I was a shit. Can you forgive me?”
“Can I borrow the Gucci clutch next time Jack and I go out?” Nina asked, forcing herself not to smile.
Karen’s vintage Gucci clutch was legendary in their circle of friends, second only to Karen’s possessiveness over it.
“What are you, sixteen?” Karen asked.
“I’m just asking,” Nina said. “I mean, how much leverage do I have here?”
“Ugh! Yes, you can borrow the Gucci clutch.” Karen bumped her shoulder against Nina’s like when they’d been in college and Karen had been trying to coax a smile out of her. “Am I forgiven now or do I have to wait for you to borrow it to get absolution?”
“I think I can front you the absolution,” Nina said as they turned the corner. “Besides, I’m not sure you were wrong.”
“About which part?” Karen said. “Wait… why did I apologize if I wasn’t wrong?”
Nina laughed. “Because you’re supposed to let me come to these realizations on my own, then tell me it’s not true that I’m a mess.”
“I’ll make a note of that.”
Nina drew in a breath, savoring the smell of summer. For months the air had been filled with wet concrete and cold steel. Now there was a hint of steam from the subways and the faint scent of garbage rotting in containers near the curb. It was oddly enjoyable.
“I know it’s dumb to think about Liam,” Nina said. “Even if he were in the country, it wouldn’t matter.”
“Why wouldn’t it matter?” Karen asked.
“Because I blew it and because some of the things standing between us haven’t changed.”
“Because he’s younger, you mean.”
“It’s not nothing,” Nina said. “I know you say age is just a number, and if it were just sex, I would agree, but there are differences in relationships when you’re thirty and when you’re almost fifty. And all of that isn’t even addressing Jack.”
“So… address Jack,” Karen said.
They passed a handful of guys standing outside the bar. Nina had never been surprised when men checked out Karen, and the novelty of being checked out herself had worn off six months ago. She avoided eye contact and waited until they were past to speak. “I care about Jack. I really care about him. He’s not just some sex toy to me.”
“But?”
“But what does it mean that I care about Jack and still think about Liam? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t know how to be happy. Maybe I create all this drama for myself when things get boring just to keep it interesting.”
“Are things boring?” Karen asked.
Nina shook her head. “Not in the slightest.”
“So that’s not it,” Karen said. “Maybe the answer is simpler.”
“If it’s simple and I still don’t have it, doesn’t that make me stupid?”
Karen laughed and looped her arm through Nina’s. “You are not stupid. It’s just hard to see things clearly when we’re in the middle of them. I’ve been guilty of the same thing, as you well know.”
Nina thought about all the men Karen had been involved with over the years — the one-night stands, the kink aficionados, the few times she’d fallen hard. “I do.”
“So you know I’m not immune,” Karen said. “And I counted on you to give me a clearer perspective when I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.”
“You hated when I tried to give you a clearer perspective,” Nina said.
Karen laughed. “Fair point. But I still counted on it, an
d I’m sorry if I never thanked you for it.”
They waited to cross the street. “So what’s your perspective?”
“Do you really want to know?” Karen asked.
“I really do.” She wasn’t going to figure things out, to have any peace or happiness, by hiding from uncomfortable things.
“I think it was a mistake to get back together with Jack, not because there’s anything wrong with him, but because he was too inexorably intertwined to your relationship with Liam.”
“Wow… inexorably,” Nina said as they crossed the street. “Pulling out the big guns.”
Karen shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an editor. And I have more to say if you want it.”
“Hit me,” Nina said.
“I know Jack fucked up in Paris, and you know me: I don’t have a single problem with kink.”
“But?”
“But he was telling you who he was even then, and even though he’s followed the rules this time around, it might have been a warning sign back then that you weren’t on the same kink wavelength.”
“Just so we’re clear,” Nina said, “what is the kink wavelength? Is it a one to ten kind of thing? One to five stars, one being vanilla sex and five being group sex?”
“Group sex would not be a five,” Karen said.
“Don’t actually want to know,” Nina said. “Was just kidding.”
Karen grinned at her. “I know.”
“So you think it’s not going to work with Jack,” Nina said. “That we’re not… compatible.”
“I think you’re looking a little too thin and a little too pale, Nina. I think you don’t seem entirely there. I think you might be thinking about Liam because you miss his emotional availability and the ease of being with him, and it’s hard to remember the city is full of single men.”
“You said none of them were emotionally available,” Nina reminded her.
“I was exaggerating when I said that, but the point is, your choices aren’t limited to Jack or Liam, and it’s entirely possible that they were both just appetizers for your new life.”
Nina sighed. “I do like a good starter.”
Karen laughed. “You’ve gotten to be such a smart ass.”
Nina squeezed Karen’s arm. “I learned from the best.”
“I’m just saying that you won’t be able to trust any decision you make about Jack while thinking about Liam,” Karen said. “And the fact that you only started really missing Liam after you saw him with Blondie doesn’t lend a lot of credibility to your feelings, you know?”
They came to Karen’s subway and stopped at the top of the railing.
“I missed him before that,” Nina said.
“I can’t speak to that,” Karen said. “But you’re already in deep with Jack, and Liam isn’t here anyway. We don’t always get a second chance, and sometimes that’s a good thing, even when it hurts.”
“What do I do now?" Nina asked.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to think a minute before you answer, and I want you to swear you’ll tell me the truth,” Karen said.
“Okay.”
“Are you happy with Jack?”
Nina opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again, wanting to give Karen’s question the thought it deserved.
“I’m… excited by Jack. I care about him so much. I think he’s sadder than he lets on, and I think he’s never really had anyone to love him.”
Karen tipped her head. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I think I might be too conflicted to call myself happy,” Nina admitted.
“We’re not thinking about Liam, remember?”
“I know,” Nina said. “I mean I might be too conflicted about Jack to be happy.”
“Then I think you have your answer.”
“It’s not that simple,” Nina said. “You’re right: I’m in deep. The sex is…”
“The sex is sex,” Karen said firmly. “Whatever it is, it’s not the only sex in town.”
“It might be the only sex like this in town.” Nina hesitated. “I just… it’s like an addiction. I don’t know if I can stop.”
“Listen, there’s more than one sexual script. It’s totally okay to want what you want — whatever that may be, and I do mean whatever — but not if it makes you sick, Neen. That’s how you know it’s dangerous, how you know it’s time to get out while you’re still thinking clearly enough to find the door.”
Nina nodded.
“Promise you’ll think about it?” Karen asked.
“I promise.”
“Good.” Karen hugged and they said goodbye before she descended the stairs to the subway.
Nina started for home feeling guilty about the promise. It had been a lie. There was no point thinking about it.
Quitting Jack was impossible.
19
Judith Chambers’s apartment was in a prewar building on Central Park West. Nina was met by the doorman, who’d taken her to a desk where they checked her name against a list before leading her to an elevator and using a code to send her to the twelfth floor.
She’d exited into a roomy entry with parquet floors and crown molding. A round table that looked like an antique stood under an understated chandelier. Bright pink peonies sprang in a thick bouquet from a crystal vase at the table’s center.
Judith had greeted her warmly and led her into a surprisingly cozy living room with high ceilings and a view of the park. Unlike Jack’s modern penthouse where the layout was open and airy, the rooms in Judith’s apartment were smaller and more distinct, the living room clearly separate from the kitchen where Judith disappeared to retrieve their lunch.
Nina wasn’t fooled. The place might be traditional, but an apartment this size was still worth millions on Central Park West.
She looked around while Judith was gone, taking in the ornate sofa and overstuffed chairs, the grand piano at one end of the room, the books lining built-in shelves along one wall. There were a couple of paintings adorning the walls — impressionist landscapes — but they were otherwise surprisingly bare.
She thought about the article she’d read detailing Judith’s decision to liquidate her late husband’s art collection. Had she done it for the money? By all accounts Judith was still flush with wealth. The decision seemed a more mysterious one than that.
“Here we are.” Judith entered the living room bearing a tray.
She appeared frailer than she had at the park, although it might have been the caftan she wore in place of the coat or the bright sunlight making its way through the apartment’s big windows. She was still beautifully turned out, her makeup applied to perfection, expensive jewelry twinkling on her wrists and fingers, but this time Nina was very aware of her advanced age.
“You’re sure you won’t let me help with anything?” Nina asked.
“Of course,” Judith said. “I so rarely have guests. You must allow me to have my fun playing hostess.”
Nina smiled. “Well, since you put it that way.”
“I wasn’t sure if you took your tea with lemon or milk.” Judith set the tray on the coffee table and began removing items from its surface — two diminutive plates, a platter of tiny sandwiches with the crusts cut off, a bowl of strawberries, a silver teapot and two cups with saucers, containers of cream and sugar, a plate with sliced lemon.
“Either is fine,” Nina said. “It’ll be nice to have tea for a change. I probably drink too much coffee.”
“I can hardly blame you. There are few things as enjoyable as a rich, dark cup of black coffee.” Judith took a seat at the other end of the sofa. “Unfortunately, I can only have one cup in the morning these days. I simply can’t sleep at night otherwise.”
“I’ve noticed that I’m more sensitive to it than I was when I was younger.” Nina laughed. “I should probably start transitioning to tea now.”
Judith poured tea into the cups and handed one to Nina. “In my experience, it’s far preferable to let a
ge chase you rather than chasing it.”
“You have a point.” Nina looked around the room. “Your home is so lovely.”
“It’s old-fashioned, I’m sure, but I quite like it.” Judith picked up one of the empty plates and placed a sandwich triangle on it, then added a couple of strawberries. No wonder she was so tiny: Nina could have devoured every scrap of food on the coffee table and still been ready for a four course meal. “After my husband passed I found I craved space. I considered renovating but sold half of our possessions instead, although I imagine you already know that.”
“I won’t deny that I looked you up after our meeting in the park,” Nina said. “I’m sorry if it was an intrusion.”
“Not at all. I may be ancient, but I know how the internet works, and I understand the desire for information. It’s one I share.” Judith took a dainty bite of her sandwich and finished chewing before speaking again. “Although I imagine you know that words on a screen are only part of the story.”
“Why do you think I’m here?” Nina asked with a smile.
“You’re not here to ask about the photos?”
Nina put two of the sandwiches on her plate. “I won’t deny that I’d still love to show them, but if I’m being honest, I’m more interested in you.”
“In me?”
Nina nodded. “I felt the missing part of your story in the articles I found. They were… flat, especially since I had our meeting in the park as a contrast.”
Judith’s eyes sparkled. “I take it you didn’t find me flat then?”
“The opposite of flat.” The photos were the catalyst for Nina’s interest in Judith Chambers. Their conversation in the park had piqued her interest, and her research on the internet had elevated Judith to a mystery Nina was dying to solve.
“I always assume the city’s young people see me as yet another relic of a New York long past, of a world passing even as we speak.”
“I didn’t see you that way at all,” Nina said. “Even before I learned you were a pinup model in the 50s.”
Judith nodded, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Ah, yes. I lived in California then.”
The Surrender of Nina Fontaine (Awakening Book 2) Page 10