The Good Twin(7)

Ben flashed his membership card at the front desk, then headed into the locker room to change. Crown Fitness was one of the top gyms in the city, with a membership initiation fee of $100,000. Inside were all the bells and whistles expected—a massive open space with rows and rows of machines, an indoor swimming pool, racquetball and basketball courts, fully stocked private rooms for personal training, larger rooms for fitness classes, and, of course, sauna and steam rooms. A nursery was set up for parents to drop off their toddlers when they weren’t with their nannies or in nursery school. A small café served sandwiches and drinks.

When Ben reached the racquetball court he’d reserved, Graham was already there, hitting balls against the wall. Graham, an advertising copywriter, couldn’t afford this gym. He was there each week as Ben’s guest.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it,” Graham said as he turned around.

“Yeah, I got stuck on a phone call with a nervous client.”

“Need to loosen up first?”

“Nah. Let’s just start. I can whoop your ass even coming in cold.”

They began their first game, fast-paced and aggressive. They’d always been competitive with each other, hungry to be the best. Ben loved the sport, loved the sound of the ball bouncing off the walls, the sweat he worked up rushing to return each volley. When he played, he forgot about his job; he forgot about his marriage. It was just him and the ball. He won the first game, beating Graham by four points.

Graham plopped down on the bench, catching his breath. “You’re on fire today.”

“Yeah, well, I’m picturing my father-in-law’s head as the ball.”

“He still riding you?”

“Not anymore. He’s sick. Liver cancer. He’s been working from home.”

“I keep telling you, leave there.”

Ben just bowed his head and said quietly, “That’s not going to happen.” He knew Graham would never stay in a job he hated just because he feared what would happen if he walked away. Even as a young child, Graham had always been a risk-taker, willing to take chances and live with the consequences. Ben had always admired him for that.

Ben felt a push on his shoulder and looked up.

“Are you off in dreamland?” Graham asked. “Aren’t you up for another game?”

Ben smiled. “Sure. Ten bucks says I beat you again.”

They played two more games, Ben winning both. When finished, they headed to the locker room. Ben was chatting with Graham about the stock market when he turned the corner and bumped into a leggy redhead. He looked up and winced, then quickly caught himself. “Hi, Caryn.”

“Oh, God, you’re here. I should have asked to see the membership rolls before I signed up.”

“Been coming here for years. If you don’t want to run into me, stay away at lunchtimes.”

Caryn harrumphed, then stormed away.

“What was that all about?” Graham asked.

“Just someone on the side before I met Lisa. A real bitch. She wasn’t too happy when I dumped her.”

Graham just shook his head.

After they showered and changed, they stopped at the gym’s café and each ordered a smoothie, then sat down at a table.

Graham handed Ben ten dollars. “Something’s up with you. I haven’t seen you this intense in a long time.”

Ben sighed deeply. “It’s Charly. We haven’t been getting along lately.”

Graham smirked. “Gee, you think maybe it’s because you’re screwing another woman?”

“You’re the only one who knows about Lisa.”

“You sure?”

Was he? Charly had been cool to him for a while, but he’d assumed it was due to the demands of the gallery. She’d just opened it less than three years ago, and because of her father’s connections, it had done well. But it wasn’t just the hours at the gallery. There were the seemingly endless social events to build relationships with clientele, the dinners spent wooing artists, the travel to art fairs nationally and internationally. It seemed he hardly saw her anymore, and when he did, she was petered out. Still, he’d been careful about his trysts with Lisa. They were never together in public, not even at small restaurants near Lisa’s apartment, where he was unlikely to run into Charly’s crowd. There simply was no way for his wife to know.

“I’m sure.”

Graham leaned back in his seat and was quiet while he finished his smoothie. When done, he said, “We’ve been friends for a long time, and I’ve never seen you this unhappy. Why can’t you chuck it all? Leave Charly, leave your job, go to law school, which is what you’d always planned on. There aren’t any kids holding you back.”

How could Ben explain to Graham that marriage to Charly had changed him? He’d been brought into a world of wealth that had been foreign to him. It wasn’t just the money; it was the access money bought. Access to gala openings at the Met, prime seats at the theaters, dinners with mayors and governors and senators, black-tie charity events, parties at the homes of New York’s wealthiest families. As much as he complained about being dragged to the social events Charly needed to attend for the gallery, he was making invaluable connections if he ever went into politics. He couldn’t walk away from that. No matter how much he wanted to.