Envy(142)

Terror championed only by pain. Excruciating and immeasurable.

Pain that splinters the body but slays the soul.





Chapter 32


Nadia arrived at the martini bar wearing a snug black dress with a deceptively demure neckline and a cocktail hat, one of those saucy numbers with a veil that covered half her face. A black feathered handbag hung from her shoulder on a slender gold chain. Very fetching. Very femme fatale.

Heads turned as she made her way through the bar. It was packed with Manhattan’s in crowd and wannabes. People spoke to her as she passed by. She waved to a party of three seated at a corner table.

When she reached Noah’s table, he was inflated with pride that the most exquisite woman in the room was joining him. He embraced her warmly but circumspectly. Pecking a friendly kiss on her cheek, he whispered, “I could f*ck you right here.”

“Ever the romantic.” She slid into the banquette beside him.

“Martini?”

“By all means.”

He placed their order with the waiter who had rushed to the table within seconds of Nadia’s arrival, then turned to her with a smile. “You’re known here.”

“I’m known everywhere.”

He laughed at her conceit. “I’ve missed your sharp comebacks. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you.”

“That silly quarrel.”

“Ancient history now.” He inhaled deeply. “Ahh. Your provocative scent.”

“Chanel.”

He shook his head and grinned slyly. “Sex. Too bad you can’t bottle it. You’d make a fortune.” His adoring gaze moved over her face. “You look sensational. I like the veil.”

“Thank you.”

“It lends you a mysterious air that’s incredibly sexy.” Beneath the table, he pressed her thigh with his.

“You’re coming on awfully strong tonight. You haven’t been getting any, have you?”

“I’ve been otherwise occupied.”

“Yes, you have.” She seemed to become fascinated with the layered arrangement of the feathers on her handbag. She ran her finger over the smooth, iridescent plumes. “You’ve been busy laying your father-in-law to rest.”

“What a lot of folderol.”

“I thought the eulogies were rather moving.”

“It was the kind of send-off Daniel Matherly merited, I suppose. I’m just glad it’s over. Now the rest of us can stop applauding his life and resume living our own.”

“Ordinarily you enjoy being in the limelight. I thought the role of loyal and bereaved son-in-law would have appealed to you.”

He laid his hand over his heart. “I did my best.” Their martinis arrived. They clinked glasses, sipped. “Actually, it wasn’t all that bad, except for having to keep Maris’s hysteria at bay.”

“Wasn’t it natural for her to be upset?”

“Her behavior went beyond normal grief.” She gave up her study of the feathers and looked at him. “My wife got the harebrained notion that I was responsible for her father’s fall.” He peered past the veil into Nadia’s eyes. “Can you imagine that?”

She raised the martini glass to her lips. “Yes. I can.”

The steadiness of her gaze was a bit unnerving. He deliberately mistook her meaning. “Maris has always been excitable and reactionary, but this time she carried it to the extreme.”

“At the funeral, she seemed the picture of composure.”

“True. But once it was over, she lost all reason. She coerced the local police in Massachusetts to reinvestigate the fatal accident.”

“And?”

“Naturally they found nothing to substantiate her suspicions.”

“How lucky for you.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it, Nadia.”

“I’m sure that’s true.” She stared out over the crowd, speaking almost to herself. “If you had pushed the old gentleman down the staircase, you would be shrewd enough not to get caught.”

“I didn’t. But you’re right. I would be shrewd enough not to get caught. And that’s why you like me so well.”

She turned back to him. “True. I would never become involved with a loser. I wouldn’t hitch my wagon to a falling star. Only to one that’s ascending.”

“We’re so much alike it’s frightening.” Leaning closer to her, he added confidentially, “At least it should be frightening to everyone else.” Complacently he took another sip of his martini. “Anyhow, Daniel’s dead and buried. That’s the good news.”

“For God’s sake, Noah.” She glanced around as though fearing that he’d been overheard. “What’s the bad?”

“Not bad, darling. Better. His death was the final nail in the coffin of my marriage. It is now beyond repair.”

She raised her glass to toast him. “Congratulations or condolences?”

“Definitely the former. Because I have even better news than that.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“Are you sure you want me to tell you here and now? It may bring on an orgasm.”

“Have you ever known me to turn down an opportunity like that?”