Envy(14)

Maris held the dead phone to her ear for several seconds before thoughtfully hanging up. The conversation had been almost surreal. She even thought that perhaps she had dreamed it.

But she wasn’t dreaming. She was wide awake. By Manhattan standards, it was practically the middle of the night—and her husband wasn’t in bed with her. If the strange telephone call weren’t enough to wake her up, then Noah’s unexplained absence certainly was.

She was concerned enough to call the hospital emergency rooms. But when she’d last seen Noah, he’d been in the company of Nadia Schuller. Which made her angry enough to throw something against the wall.

In either case, her night had ended and she was up for good. Throwing off the covers, she got out of bed and was reaching for her robe when Noah strolled into the bedroom, politely covering a wide yawn with his fist. He was still dressed in his tuxedo trousers and shirt, although he had removed the studs and his shirttail was hanging out. His jacket was slung over his shoulder. He was carrying his shoes.

He said, “Did I hear the telephone ring?”

“Yes.”

“Was it Daniel? There’s nothing wrong, I hope.”

She was greatly relieved to see him, but dumbfounded by his nonchalance. “Noah, where in God’s name have you been all night?”

Her tone stopped him in his tracks. He looked at her with puzzlement. “Downstairs on the sofa in the den.”

“Why?”

“You were already asleep when I came in. I hated to disturb you.”

“What time did you get home?”

He arched an eyebrow in silent disapproval of the third-degree tone of her questions. “About one, I think.”

His calm manner only fueled her irritation. “You said—you promised—you’d be half an hour behind me.”

“We had two rounds of drinks instead of one. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I was awakened at five-twenty-something in the morning, and I was alone in bed,” she exclaimed. “Call me irrational, but unless I know the reason why not, I expect my husband to be sleeping beside me.”

“Obviously I wasn’t missed until you were awakened.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Her voice had gone shrill. It was the voice of a ranting wife. It called to mind the caricature dressed in a shapeless flannel robe and fuzzy scuffs, curlers in her hair, holding a rolling pin above her head as she caught her cheating husband sneaking in the back door.

She took a moment to get her temper under control, although she was still bristling with anger. “If you’ll recall, Noah, I tried to seduce you into coming home with me straight from the office. But you elected for us to go to that interminably long banquet instead. Following that, I tried to talk you into salvaging at least part of the evening just for us, but you chose to have drinks with Vampira and that dopehead.”

He dropped his shoes to the floor, removed his shirt, then unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them. “Each book that ‘dopehead’ writes sells over a half million copies in hardcover. His paperback sales are triple that. But he thinks he can get even higher numbers. He’s unhappy with his present publisher and is considering moving to another.

“ ‘Vampira’ set up the date for drinks, thinking that it would be a beneficial meeting for both parties. Indeed it was. The author agreed to let us work up a publishing proposal. We’ll be hearing from his agent to discuss terms. I had hoped to surprise you and Daniel with this good news tomorrow, but…” He shrugged eloquently, then moved to the bed and sat down on the edge of it.

“And just to come completely clean with you,” he continued, “I confess that the dopehead got so drunk we couldn’t conscientiously put him into a taxi by himself. Nadia and I accompanied him to his apartment and put him to bed. Not a pleasant chore, I assure you. Then she and I shared a taxi back uptown. I dropped her off at Trump Tower, then after arriving home I came upstairs, saw you sleeping soundly, and decided not to disturb you.

“Throughout the evening, I was acting in what I thought was your—our—best interest.” He placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head slightly. “Forgive me my thoughtlessness.”

Despite his logical explanation, Maris still believed she had a right to be angry. “You could have called, Noah.”

“I could have. But knowing how exhausted you were, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I don’t like being obligated to Nadia.”

“I don’t like being obligated to anyone. On the other hand, it’s not very smart to intentionally alienate Nadia. If she likes you, she bestows favors. If she dislikes you, she can inflict serious damage.”

“And either way—if you’re a man—you get screwed.”

That caused him to smile. “Why is it that a woman, and especially you, is never more beautiful than when she’s angry?”

“I was.”

“I know.”

“I am.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t mean to.” He looked at her and smiled gently. “You have no reason to be jealous, you know.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, deadpan. “I think I have every right to be paranoid, considering the number of affairs you had before we were married.”