Turning Point(59)

“We’re still married,” he reminded her, as though she needed him to. She knew exactly who he was. She was now in a situation she had never thought could happen to her. She was a married woman with a lover. Gabriel was right. She needed to deal with it soon. And so did Gabriel. He still hadn’t seen a lawyer. This was not who she wanted to be.





Chapter Fifteen


As the plane touched down in San Francisco, Marie-Laure and Valérie were sitting next to each other, straining to look out the window as they flew low over the water and landed smoothly on the runway. It had been a very long flight, but they’d eaten, watched movies, and slept for several hours. It was ten P.M. in Paris and one P.M. in San Francisco but they were wide awake.

Paul and Gabriel were sitting together across the aisle. Paul couldn’t wait to discover the nightlife of the city, although Tom had already warned him that he would be busy that weekend. He wanted to spend time with Valérie. He was picking her up at the airport, and taking her to Oakland. His apartment was as clean as he could get it, and he had gotten bright-colored Moroccan blankets to cover the old stains on the couch, new lamps, curtains, which he’d never had before, and a new rug from IKEA. He’d even bought new plates and glasses, since nothing he owned matched and the old ones were all chipped. He hoped she wouldn’t run screaming out the door when she got there. And he had put flowers in vases on all of the tables, because he knew she loved them. The women he’d brought there in the past wouldn’t have recognized it, and he felt like a kid again, as he waited for her outside Customs in a tweed blazer, jeans, a blue shirt, and brown suede shoes. He looked like a male model. Several women glanced at him as he stood there, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were riveted on the door she would come through.

    They had nothing to declare, and were there on business, so all four French doctors were processed quickly through Immigration, and came out into the terminal together, and were delighted to see Tom. He put his arms around Valérie and kissed her first. She managed to look as sexy and put together as she did in Paris, even after an eleven-hour flight, and he had an arm around her as he talked to the others. There was a van and driver waiting for them outside to take them to their hotel. They were staying at the Saint Francis in Union Square, and Tom had already told Paul to check out the bar nearby at the Clift hotel, which had a heavy pickup scene with a lot of hot young women in the lobby and bar. He had also suggested a number of other places, since he wouldn’t be there to guide him.

Gabriel was planning to call Stephanie from the hotel, and she had promised to join him as soon as she could get away. Wendy was coming into the city to have dinner with Marie-Laure. She was going to show her the sights, in tamer fashion than Paul wanted to see them. They were all in good spirits and stood chatting for a few minutes, before Tom spirited Valérie away, and they got in their van. He kissed her as soon as they left the others, and all they both wanted to do was go to his place and go to bed. They had the same thing in mind, and she ran a hand inside his leg and kissed him on the neck as he drove.

    “I’m going to drive off the bridge if you don’t stop.” They were on the Bay Bridge and didn’t have far to go to where he lived, in the Temescal section of Oakland, which was a five-minute drive from where he worked.

They talked nonstop on the way there, and he carried her bag upstairs to his apartment, which had a view of a garden, and there were shops and restaurants all around them. The area was up and coming, and the new desirable neighborhood for young people. The building was old and no thing of beauty, but the rent was reasonable, and he had never cared what it looked like. But now he did, and he held his breath as they walked into his apartment and she looked around, smiled at him, and slid her arms around his neck. There was a quaint, charming quality to the place, which he had enhanced considerably with his new acquisitions, and she had the feeling that he had worked hard to improve it for her. She was touched. There was a large aerial photograph of the city over the fireplace that he had gotten at IKEA, and a similar one of Paris he had hung in his bedroom over the bed, so she’d feel at home. She immediately noticed the flowers around the room in vases. She kissed him longingly then.

“Thank you for making it beautiful for me, Tom.” He was touched that she appreciated what he had done. She was observant and sensitive, and she began unbuttoning his shirt carefully, as he took off his jacket and threw it on the couch. They were in his bedroom naked within minutes, the decor forgotten. It didn’t matter what city they were in, they were back together, and Tom was transported by her perfume, her body, her incredibly sensual ways. They lay exhausted and happy in each other’s arms afterward, and he went to get her the champagne he had bought to celebrate her arrival. He walked out to the kitchen in all his naked glory, and she followed him as he handed her a glass. They toasted each other and went back to bed, and talked for a long time. She wanted to walk around the neighborhood to get a feeling for it, so he went to shower, while she lay on his bed looking unbearably sexy, and when he came out of the shower, she had a wisp of black lace balancing on her fingertip.

    “Look what I found under the bed,” she said with a mischievous look and his heart stopped. He thought he had gotten them all, but she had obviously discovered one more.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry…I checked everywhere…I’m sorry,” he said remorsefully and she kissed him with a burst of laughter.