“Maybe it's time for you to remarry,” she said bravely, “not only for your sake, but for the kids’ sake.”
“Great. And then what? Let them live through a divorce again? At least last time most of them were too young to understand what was happening. Mary Ellen was six, and it was heartbreaking for her, but Julie and Andy were four and not quite two. It was a lot easier for them. Next time it wouldn't be. They're older now. Old enough to be hurt by it.”
“What makes you think you'd get divorced next time, Cal? Don't you think you learned something last time?”
“Yeah, not to get married,” he laughed, but it wasn't a sound of humor, but of bitterness and remembered pain, “and not to trust, and not to be as stupid next time. Charlotte started her business in London on the settlement she got from me.”
“Lucky for her.”
“I thought so,” he said, as he signaled for the check. “Besides,” he said with a look of amusement, “my kids wouldn't let me marry again. I think they're pretty clear that they want me to themselves now.”
“That's not fair, and it's not good for them, or you.”
“It's very good for me. They're like three little guardian angels, who keep me from making a fool of myself, or doing something stupid.”
“You're too smart to be that cynical, Cal, or that cowardly.” She was speaking to him as a friend, and he knew it.
“Why are you trying to sell me marriage?” He was intrigued by her persistence.
“Because I think it's a great thing. Best thing I ever did.”
“Then you're very lucky,” he smiled warmly at her, and seemed to relax again, “and so is Steve. Come on, kiddo, let's go dance.” He took her hand, and led her out of the restaurant, without a glance back in his ex-wife's direction. For him, it was a closed book, and Meredith was relieved when they were back on the street. She had sensed his tension, and his pain over running into Charlotte. He clearly had no warm feelings about her, no matter how many children they'd had together.
They chatted easily on the way to Annabel's, in the chauffeured Daimler he'd hired at the hotel. And Meredith loved it when they got to Annabel's. He ordered champagne for both of them, and led her out to the dance floor, and it was an hour later when they came back to their table. She was having a great time with him. He was a wonderful dancer, and fun to be with. And she was sorry for him that in some ways he was still so bitter. He had been badly wounded, but in every other way, he was an immensely appealing man, and she thought he deserved more than he was willing to allow himself to have. Somehow, his work and children did not seem enough for a man like him, although she didn't know what else he had in his life. In all the time they'd been traveling together, he had never mentioned a girlfriend or a companion, or a woman in his life, and she couldn't help wondering what he did for fun, other than work, and go dancing with his investment banker.
They stayed at Annabel's until two o'clock in the morning, and then went back to Claridge's. They were laughing and happy and tired and relaxed. And without a thought of anything more than friendship, she could have easily danced with him all night. He held her comfortably in his arms, dancing slow or fast, moving perfectly with her, but still never out of line, and never too close. She wasn't uncomfortable with him for an instant. In fact, she felt even closer to him than before. And seeing Charlotte at Harry's Bar, and his reaction to her, had been an intriguing glimpse into his past for her.
“What's on the agenda for tomorrow?” he asked as he left her at the door to her hotel room.
“I thought I'd do some shopping. I love the antique shops here.”
“So do I,” he said easily. “Mind if I come with you?”
“Of course not.” But she remembered the treasures she'd seen in his house. “You may want to go to some fancier places than I do. I was just going to browse a little.”
“I can't think of anything I'd like better,” he said comfortably, and then added, “I had a great time tonight. You're wonderful company, Meredith.” Maybe, but she certainly wasn't as sophisticated or as striking as his ex-wife. Charlotte was a whole other breed, and she wondered if in comparison, Callan found her a little dull. She was far more conservative than his ex-wife. But also a great deal more real.
“I had a good time too. Thank you, Cal. Dinner was terrific, and I loved dancing. I never get to go dancing with Steve. He's always either too tired, or at work, and I've come to the conclusion over the years, that most surgeons just can't dance. This was fun. Thank you,” she said warmly, and meant it.
“I'll come to New York and take you dancing anytime. We can be the new Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, dancing partners and good friends.” She laughed at the comparison, and after she said good night to him, she closed the door to her room. She was tired, but she had had a great time, and when she glanced at the phone, she saw that the message light was on. And when she called in for her messages, they told her Steve had called three times, but she was tired and decided to call him in the morning.
She tossed her dress on a chair, kicked off her shoes, brushed her teeth, put on her nightgown, and went straight to bed.
And she was still asleep at eight o'clock the next morning when the phone rang. It was Steve.
“Where were you all night?” He sounded annoyed this time.
“I told you I was going out with Cal.” She was half asleep, and she yawned.
“What time did you get in? Four A.M.?”
“No. Two. We went to Harry's for dinner, and then to Annabel's afterward for drinks.” She had no secrets from him. She had always intended to tell him about Annabel's, she just didn't want to worry him beforehand.
“Did you dance with him?”
“No. But I danced with several waiters and the maitre d’. Of course I danced with him, silly. It was no big deal.”
“Maybe it is to me.” He sounded like a petulant child and she was mildly amused. He knew better than to worry about her with another man. Even if they had gone dancing.
“Well, it shouldn't be. It was a perfectly respectable evening. We even ran into his ex-wife.”
“That must have been fun. Anyway, I'm sorry if I'm being stupid. I just miss you, and I don't think I like you traveling around with another man.”
“I'll only take female clients from now on, I promise. I'll be sure to let them know at the firm.”
“All right, all right, so I'm a jerk. But I love you, and you're too goddamn beautiful to be traveling all over the world with handsome single guys.”
“He's a perfect gentleman, baby, I promise.” She was awake then, and sorry that he was upset about it. It was one thing to tease him a little, and another if he was genuinely worried. Making each other intentionally jealous was a game neither of them had ever played. “We won't go dancing again, I promise. It was just a one-time thing because we're both stuck here for the weekend, and we've been working so damn hard. I think we wanted to celebrate our success, but he really is harmless, and we're just good friends. You'll like him.”
“All right, I'm sorry, Merrie. I trust you. Do whatever you want. What are you doing today?”
“Nothing much. Some shopping. I asked the concierge to get me theater tickets.” The theater was so good in London, she always went when she was there. “I'm leaving for Geneva tomorrow night, and then we'll be back at work.”
“I'm just glad you'll be home soon.” He sounded antsy and worried, and she was sorry about it. She hadn't meant to upset him. He was far too decent to deserve that.