Hanson answered the bell and bowed and scraped and showed Nick to the living room. The room was empty and Nick wandered about and looked, as he always did, at the elaborate furnishings and thought of his desperate ambitions.
And yet, he turned to stare into the fireplace and watch the liquid flow of golden-red coals, and he knew that not only would he probably never realize his ambitions, but that in a few minutes he would very likely be out of a job.
"Nickie, darling," Julie called and he turned as she came into the room.
She wore black silk lounging pajamas beneath a thin white robe, and Nick thought instantly how Julie always seemed tones of black and white and grey, while Holly was always golden and copper and blue.
"My secretary just called me," Nick said. "What the hell is this about her being fired? And about you firing her?"
Julie walked to Nick and pecked at his lips and then pulled away and sighed so that her breasts flowed against the thin material of her pajamas. "Yes, I was going to tell you this morning," Julie said. "I certainly didn't expect the little bitch to call you herself."
"My God, Julie," he said. "Don't you know what you've done? Sally Lewis is a hard-working efficient secretary and there is absolutely nothing between us. You can't just fire her like that. After all, she works for me."
Julie stepped closer and put her hand on Nick's neck. "Oh, don't be tedious, darling," she said. "If you weren't involved with the girl, then what difference does it make. Really, it doesn't matter, because I know after the other night there's no chance another woman will be able to interest you."
"It matters because the girl is without a job as of this afternoon," Nick said, and he twisted his neck from her tickling fingers. "It's damned unfair for her to lose her job for no reason. And how the hell do you think I feel having you go in there and fire my secretary."
"Nickie, your concern for the working class is touching and all that," she said, "but you must remember that you're in the process of moving from that class to my class, darling. You're fixing to marry me and enter a different kind of world, and it upsets me terribly that you're so concerned because I decided to fire a cheap little typist."
"Julie, you haven't bought me yet," Nick said, and looked at Julie and asked himself how he could ever have been in love with her. Or was it just his ambition, made easier because she was a beautiful girl.
Julie sighed and shifted her weight so that her body was starkly outlined against the flimsy robe and pajamas. "Please Nick, let's drop the subject," she said. "Tell me, how do you like my new outfit. I bought it especially for you. I must confess that I'm going to tantalize you unmercifully until we're married, so there will be no problem about your straying."
"The outfit is lovely," he mumbled.
"And how about what's in the outfit," she asked.
"Remember all those lovely things you said the other night, Nickie? I would like to hear some of them again, darling."
"Julie, you're a lovely girl with a lovely body, but I'm not concerned with that now. We've got to settle this about Sally Lewis and see where we stand."
"Um, Nickie," Julie said and moved to him, so that her breasts brushed his chest. "Just give me half a minute darling, and you won't even remember the girl's name."
Nick pulled away, and saw the provocative smile on Julie's face twist into an ugly sneer. But he was angry now, too, and he realized he did not want any of this, not from this girl, not from her father.
"If Sally Lewis leaves Connors and Ross, so do I," he said. "It's that simple, Julie."
"Yes, Nickie, it could be that simple," Julie said, and her words were etched with scorn. "Especially since you've messed up on the Dennison campaign. Daddy is getting quite upset at you, and you're obviously going to let him down."
"I've come up with the perfect idea for Dennison," Nick said. "But that has nothing to do with us, Julie. If you're capable of firing Miss Lewis before we're married, God only knows what you'll be capable of afterwards."
"Nick, I won't stand here and let you talk to me that way," she said. "You forget who you are, darling. And who I am. And you forget that I'm used to getting my way. After our time on the floor the other night, darling, you said all those lovely things, and assured me there would be no problems."
"I was still capable of selling my soul then, Julie. But it's not the same anymore, baby. In fact it's over. Finished. You can find yourself another boy to praise and pander to you. And I'm going to find a decent woman."
Julie took a step and slapped Nick. The pain creased his cheek and nose and he went rigid, then warm.
"You get out of this house, you bastard," Julie hissed, her face scarlet, her lips trembling. "Crawl back to the gutter where you belong. When I tell my father about you, you won't even be able to find a job in the gutter."
"You and your father can both go to hell," Nick said and stalked across the room. He paused at the door. "And Julie, with the next boy you pick up, be shrewd and don't make love to him. You're so terrible at making love that it gives your whole game away."
"Filthy cheap…" she screamed, and he walked down the hall to the door. As he left the apartment she was screaming that she was calling her father, that he would take care of Nick.
Nick slammed the door and paused a moment and caught his breath. He had no doubt that Marshall Connors would take care of him, and would slam the door to every decent job opportunity he came across.
Yet, as he left the building and stood in the snow and shivered, he had a good feeling, a clean feeling of being his own man, that he had not felt in a long time.
But, a few hours later as Nick huddled over a scotch and water in a neighborhood bar on Lexington Avenue, he felt only dejection and defeat. Sure he had walked out on Julie and on Connors.
But he drank the whiskey and told himself that if he had had any self-respect he would never have let himself get involved in the situation in the first place.
So here he sat, getting drunk, without a fiancee and without a job and without a future, if he knew Marshall Connors. And most of all, without Holly. Holly, he muttered, and finished the drink and ordered another one. The chill permeated the small bar and he thought of her warmth and the way her honey-smooth body always burned with desire.
And he thought of the hatred that glowed in her blue eyes when she left his apartment. He laughed bitterly and told himself he was shallow and blind and selfish, not to have realized how much he loved her.
Nick's hand was trembling as he lifted his drink to his mouth. He had to calm down, he had to find a way to pull himself together. There were a lot of decisions he was going to have to make. Very soon.
What bothered him the most was the fact he was alone. He could live without Julie, he knew that. In fact, now that the engagement was off, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulder. But it would be a lot harder to live without his job, without any job if Connors really wanted to ruin him. And it was very hard not to have Holly to go home to.
If she were home, he said to himself over a fresh drink, I wouldn't be here. I could rush home and into her arms and then it wouldn't matter about Connors and Julie and the job. At least, not for tonight.
Nick had an idea. He knew he couldn't bear the thought of going home alone tonight. There were many phone numbers in his address book, but he didn't feel like seeing any of the women they belonged to. Not tonight, not when he'd have to explain everything. There was one number, though, that he could dial, one woman who would sympathize with his plight because it was hers as well. Sally Lewis.
Nick crossed his fingers as he dialed her number at the pay phone. One ring, two, three, four. Damnit, she was out!