“What are you afraid of, Claire?” he finally asked her one night on the phone. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to have dinner with you and get to know you.” But they both knew that what he said wasn’t true. He might hurt her, if she fell in love with him, or disappoint her. She didn’t want to take the chance. And she didn’t want anything to interfere with her work. If she fell for him, it might dilute her energy or alter her focus and jeopardize her work, which was what had happened to her mother. She had let a man rob her of a promising career. Claire was never going to let that happen to her. She had decided that as a young girl. And George was much too seductive. It was easy to imagine falling for him, with all his generous attention and lavish gifts.
“I’m too busy to go out,” she said quietly. “I’m working on our spring line.”
“You have to eat,” he reminded her, slightly tongue in cheek, “to keep up your strength. I promise we won’t stay out late. I just want to enjoy an evening with you. Something tells me this could be important for both of us.” He was incredibly convincing, and infinitely charming, and the following day, when he made her laugh through an entire conversation, using a lighter touch, she succumbed, and agreed to have dinner with him the following night. She was furious with herself and terrified when she hung up. He was much better at the game than she. He was a master at it. And he always got his way.
She wore a simple black dress for their date, and a gorgeous pair of high heels. Her blond hair was in a sleek bun, with a tiny pair of diamond studs on her ears that she had bought herself. She looked simple and elegant and very striking when he picked her up.
“Wow” was all he could say at first, which was hard to believe, since he had been dating well-known actresses and supermodels for twenty years. He was a pro at this, but Claire was so impeccably put together, and her natural beauty shone like a beacon at the restaurant. He picked her up in the black Ferrari he drove to work every day, and took her to his favorite uptown restaurant, La Grenouille, for a fabulous meal. He asked her a million questions at dinner. He wanted to know everything about her, and he was impressed by how dedicated she was to her career. She didn’t tell him about her mother, and why she considered any serious relationship a threat to her goals. After her second glass of champagne, she asked him why he hadn’t married yet, and he was pensive for a minute.
“To be honest, I think I’ve been looking for the perfect woman. My father left my mother when I was an infant, and she died when I was five. I think my memory of her was as the ideal woman, and I’ve been searching for that all my life, and I’ve never found it.”
“How awful for you,” Claire said, about his losing his mother as a five-year-old. “Who did you grow up with?”
“My grandmother, who was fabulous. She was widowed at an early age, and she died the summer I graduated from high school. I was on my own after that. It made me very independent, and maybe a little bit afraid to get too involved, unless it was with the right person. I’ve never met that right person.” And then he added so softly she could barely hear him, “…Maybe until now.” He looked deep into her eyes then, with a serious expression. “Something happened to me the night I met you with Morgan. I don’t know what it was, but I felt as though the world had turned upside down. I’ve never met anyone like you. You light up from inside. I don’t know if we’ll be the right people for each other, or what will happen between us, but I know that I’ve never come as close to perfect as you. My heart stopped the moment we met.” He held her hand quietly under the table then.
Her heart nearly skipped a beat as she listened to him. She was terrified. What if he meant it? What if he was the “right one” for her, and they fell in love? What would she have to give up? She almost cried as they held hands. But you couldn’t ignore the power of what he said. He was a man who had lost everyone he’d ever loved, and his entire family by the time he was eighteen, and he was willing to admit that he had never fully given his heart ever since, and now he was tentatively offering it to her. She had no idea what to do, and her first instinct was to run, but he was so loving and so gentle and so kind to her that all she wanted to do was melt into his arms.
He told her funny stories after that, and made her laugh, as though he had never made the serious confession he had a while before. And he put her totally at ease. They had a wonderful evening, and an exquisite dinner, and then he drove her back to Hell’s Kitchen in the Ferrari, and she felt special just being with him. Everything about him drew her to him, and the pull of it was intense. He said nothing more about his feelings for her, but kissed her tenderly on the lips, and then walked her to her door. He hadn’t touched her, he didn’t want to rush her, and he kissed her again at her front door, but kissing him was like making love. And then he hurried back down the stairs as she walked into the apartment in a daze.
It was after midnight, and everyone had gone to bed. She sat at her drawing board for a while, trying to focus on the sketches she had left there, and all she could see was his face. She wanted to tell him to go away, not to tempt her, not to pull her into his life, but she wanted to be with him. She turned off the lights and went to bed, thinking of him and the way he kissed her.
She lay on her bed in a half sleep, and all she could think of was George. He was both her fondest hope and her worst nightmare all rolled into one.
—
She was still thinking about him the next day on her way to work. She picked up the Post in the train station, and there it was, on Page Six. “Who was the stunning blond beauty at La Grenouille with George Lewis last night? George looked like he was over the moon, and something tells us we’ll be seeing a lot more of her very soon. Stay tuned.” Her heart sank as she read it, and she felt terrible about not telling Morgan. She had never done that before, and they were best friends.
She called Morgan at her office as soon as she got to work, and made a clean breast of it immediately.
“I had dinner with George last night,” she blurted out.
“George Lewis?” Morgan sounded stunned. She remembered they had met the night she and Claire had dinner at Max’s restaurant, but she hadn’t heard anything about it from either of them since, although George had questioned her about Claire the day after they met. Morgan had forgotten about it.
“He’s been calling me, since I met him with you. I refused to have dinner with him, and he finally wore me down. We went to La Grenouille.” As she listened to her, Morgan knew that Claire turning him down would only make him more determined to make her say yes. There was a long silence at the end of the phone.
“Be careful, Claire. He’s good at this. Maybe it will be different with you, but he’s broken a lot of hearts over the years. The minute they’re hooked, he runs. I think it has to do with losing his mother as a kid. One of his girlfriends told me that once. I met her at a party after they stopped dating.” Claire remembered what he’d said the night before, but she had to admit that she felt something for him. She didn’t know if it was as strong as what he felt for her, but something had happened to her too when they met. Maybe he was right. But she didn’t want to share that with her friend. She felt suddenly protective of him and wanted to be discreet.
“Don’t worry. I’m more terrified than he is. I don’t want any guy interfering with my career. That’s more important to me.” Morgan understood what she was saying. She felt that way too, although she was in love with Max. But if he had jeopardized her career in any way, or insisted on marrying her, she would have ended the relationship immediately. “He’s not going to break my heart.”