The First Wives Club (35 page)

Bill had expected this and was prepared. “As a matter of fact, Phoebe’s drug use is a growing concern of mine. So much so, Wade, that I finally got her to agree to see a very well-known psychiatrist. I’ve no doubt that with Dr. Rosen’s help, Phoebe can begin to stop taking drugs.” Bill lowered his eyes.

He secretly feared that the drugs had more to do with their sexuality than he cared to admit. “It’s very painful to watch.” Then he looked up, smiling. “But I’m much more Optimistic now that Phoebe has agreed to treatment. It’s the first step.”

Wade flicked the thumbs of his clasped hands. Bill could see that he was beginning to make an impression.

“And did you see Jon Rosen’s review in the Times of Phoebe’s show?”

Bill continued while he felt he had the edge. “Rosen said that Phoebe’s art sucks one dry of emotion.” Wade,” Bill chortled, “it may not be what we would call art, but Rosen does have clout, and an eye.”

Wade was quiet for a long moment. Bill’s anxiety didn’t show, but he felt it in the moistness in his armpits. Everything I want is hanging on this meeting, he thought. Phoebe most of all. I can’t let them take her away from me.

“Bill,” Wade said with a frown on his forehead, “there is another consideration. As you know, the Van Gelders have been friends with the Elliots for generations, have done business with them, socialized, intermarried, and we are more than a little upset at how Elise will fare in the divorce.”

Bill felt Wade’s eyes boring into him now and knew Wade’s real concern.

”I admire and respect Elise, and in my way, love her. I assure you, in no way would I injure her. I am not taking a dime in settlement from her. The only assets I have are my collections—the Imari, the coins.” Looking up at Wade’s antique rifles, he continued, “Also my musket collection, and of course, the medieval Italian armor. I’ve asked Elise to sell them for me at her discretion and send me the net proceeds after expenses, and she’s agreed. It’s my intention not to profit financially from our marriage.” His brow wrinkled with his seriousness. ‘After all, I am a gentleman.”

Wade smiled broadly.

“And I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, Wade, that I have a rather substantial income of my own. After all”—Bill crossed his legs—“I’m a partner in Cromwell Reed.”’ “Bill, it seems to me that you’re doing the proper thing.” Wade reached over as he spoke and opened the humidor on his desk. Offering a cigar to Bill, he continued, “If you can assure me that Elise will not be humiliated by having to pay you a settlement as a condition for your divorce, and that you are willing to sign a prenuptial, I can’t see any further reservations the family would have to your relationship with Phoebe.”

Wade clipped off the end of his cigar, passed the clip to Bill, and lit up.

After several slow puffs he said, “Welcome to the family, Bill.”

Bill exhaled a long thread of smoke. He thought this was the best cigar he had ever had.

The Visit.

The destruction of Sylvie’s trust fund by Aaron had at least one positive effect, Annie was angry, and she knew this anger was energy —energy that could help her do what she had to do today. Today, she was going to see Gil Griffin, and then she would have lunch with Jerry Loest, to find out how things were financially with the agency. She had to know where she stood.

She knew she was obsessing, but Annie found it impossible to think of anything but her visit to Gil Griffin. Staring off into space, chewing her breakfast slowly, she realized she had no idea what she was eating.

She had to look down at the bowl before her to remember what it was.

Strawberries? Ah yes. And yogurt. God, she was out of touch.

Maybe she should have told Elise about what Aaron did with Sylvie’s fund, but she simply couldn’t. Brenda already despised him, she couldn’t face telling Elise as well, because in their crowd this simply wasn’t done. This was such dirty laundry. It showed all of them in the worst light, she as a victim, Aaron as an incompetent, Gil as a crook. She’d try, simply, to fix it.

Annie felt an unusual fatigue as she readied herself for the trip downtown She was grateful for Hudson and the limousine, cushioning her against unpleasantness until she would have to face the personification of it in the form of Gil Griffin. But I can’t afford Hudson now, she realized with a start. What will this day cost me?

At the Federated Funds building, Annie was on the list of expected visitors but had to wait nearly half an hour to see Gil. She was nervous, and the air-conditioning chilled her to the bone. Why air-condition in November? But of course, it was because the windows could not be opened. What a waste of energy. She leafed through a current Business Week but paid little attention.

What did she care about breakthroughs in microprocessor technology?

Finally the receptionist flashed a tight smile at Annie. “Mr. Griffin will see you now. Mrs. Rodgers will take you to him.” An older woman appeared and led the way down the silent, blue-carpeted hall.

Annie had never been in Gil’s office before, and the size of it astonished her. Walls of glass faced south and east, commanding a view of the Manhattan harbor that was breathtaking. She had to tear her eyes away from it to look at the figure who had risen to greet her.

She expected some social pandering, some “how are you” s to break the ice, but Gil didn’t bother. ‘I understand you have some kind of problem, Anne,” he said even before she was seated. He looked her over. She wished she’d worn something more formal, more businesslike, than her simple black Calvin Klein.

He looked at her as if she were in a bathing suit. His smile was narrow, as were his eyes.

“Yes, Gil, and I’m very upset,” Annie began. She spoke slowly and deliberately. “You know that Aaron and I set up a trust fund for Sylvie here.

It was almost twelve years ago. And the fund is essential for Sylvie.

Without it she cannot live a decent life.”

“Yes, I remember.” He was cool. His eyes, a pale, frosty blue, looked at her mechanically. Then they flicked away, wandering the room.

“This is the fund which Aaron has, with your cooperation, thrown away.

Gil listened impassively to this accusation. Annie waited for a reaction, but there was none. None at all. They sat together in the big room, in silence. I won’t speak again, she thought. I’ll wait until he says something. She was embarrassed, though she knew she shouldn’t be. But he simply sat, not even fidgeting, staring at her.

Her anger rose, catching in her throat. She could hardly believe how cold, how impassive, he could be. But then she remembered Cynthia’s letter. Her rage drove her on.

“It was illegal for you to allow Aaron to have access to that account.

My permission was required, which I did not give and which I never would have given.”

Annie’s voice had started to climb and Gil held up his hand in a stop gesture.

Now he wanted to talk. Well, too bad. “Don’t interrupt me or tell me to calm down, Gil. I’m furious and I’m not stopping till I’ve finished. I hold you legally responsible for the loss of this money, and it must be replaced somehow. If it isn’t, I’m going to press charges.”

Gil flashed her a contemptuous smile. “Against whom, Anne? Aaron?

Aaron’s the one who broke into the fund and lost the money. Am I wrong to assume he’s a responsible adult?”

She felt her stomach flip. “I will sue you.”

“Sue away. I’ll simply say that he lied. That he told me he had your permission, and I believed him. After all, we’re old friends. I trusted him.

I’m not the first one he’s fooled. He fooled you, too.”’ Was it her imagination or was he leering at her? He was despicable. And if he lied in court, he’d probably be believed. She’d try, one last time.

She clasped her hands tightly together, hoping the pressure would keep her calm, then said, “Gil, what you did was illegal. What on earth do you think … ?”

Annie turned her face away from him. She couldn’t go on, looking at that impassive hawklike face. Stuart was right—she was dealing with someone who was not human.

“I facilitated a business transaction for an associate.” Gil affected a voice of exaggerated politeness, mocking her. “It’s not an uncommon practice in business. Aaron is president of his own firm. He is neither underage nor incompetent.”’ “Aaron’s age or competence is irrelevant! Two signatures were requiredto withdraw or sell assets from that fund, Gil. God, doesn’t that mean anything?

What the hell is the point of establishing that kind of rule if the rules don’t mean anything? What kind of business do you run?”’ Gil closed his eyes and sighed. “So what do you want me to do, Mrs. Paradise?

Give you the money your husband blew? Should I take it out of my own pocket?”

For a moment Annie was at a loss. She remembered what Stuart had told her about Gil, he needs to make people suffer. Then she forced herself to speak quietly. “Yes, Gil. That is what you should do. Replace the money, not out of charity or because Sylvie needs it, but because you fucked up. Make restitution, Gil.”

Gil looked at her as if she were mad. “Good joke, Anne. Cute. Now can we get realistic, and quickly please”—he glanced at his watch-“because I have a squash game in less than ten minutes.”

Annie wouldn’t let Gil see how offensive she found him. And she wasn’t going to be rushed. I came here to say something, and I’m going to say it, she thought. Annie took a deep breath. “Gil, I’ve gotten Sylvie into a place now where she’s happy. It costs money. A lot of money.

That is what her trust fund was for. If you think I’m going to just let this go, you really are crazy.”

She stood up and found that her legs were shaking.

Gil looked at her coldly. “Do what you have to do … and see how far you get.” He rose and, clutching some kind of remote control, made the doors swing open.

Annie turned to go. If she had wished to say anything more, it was too late now. Nancy Rodgers entered. Reinforcements. Annie felt as if the bully’s mother had come to stand up for her son. Either one of these two was bad enough, but together they formed a wall of resistance that was too much for her. She had an urge to reach across his desk, pick up a paperweight, and hit Gil over the head. Instead, she left without another word.

In the car, with Hudson taking her uptown, the rage that had maintained her subsided, and she cried. They were too big, too powerful for her to tackle. If she tried to sue Aaron, to sue Gil, they’d have their lawyers all over her.

And how could she drag Aaron’s name in the mud like that? It would cost both of them money, money she didn’t have. Money Aaron swore he’d replace. But when would he restore the money? And how? What could she do? The tuition for Sylvie’s school was due soon. Dr. Gancher had told her she would give her some time, but how much time would she need?

Mrs. Rodgers, her dictation book raised, accompanied Gil down the hall as he strode off to his squash match. She could see how angry he was by the clipped way he was speaking.

“Cancel lunch with Gilhooley,” he said. “Don’t reschedule. We’ll call sometime next week on that. Be sure the Mitsui partners’ memo is on my desk, ready to be signed by the time I get back.”

“Yes, Mr. Griffin.”

“Oh, and call Gibson in marketing. I want a review of our advertising program.

I saw one of our ads last night and they’ve got to be changed. ” ”Yes, sir,” she said, feeling a moment of sympathy for Gibson.

“Perhaps it’s time for a new ad agency to get a shot with Federated.

No more Paradise/Loest. Tell him I mentioned that.”

Annie slipped into the booth across from Jerry Loest. Pete’s Sweet Shop, on Lexington Avenue and Eighty-third, hadn’t changed since her nana used to bring her here thirty years ago. It looked as if Archie and Veronica would soon slide onto metal stools at the soda fountain and order cherry Cokes. It was a safe place, a calming place to sit after a meeting such as the one she’d just had with Gil.

She looked across at Jerry. He was safe and calming, too, though right now he looked less than well. So do I, probably, she thought as she smiled at him.

“Thanks for going out of your way to meet me, Jerry.” Jerry and his wife, Eunice lived in Jersey, and the Paradise/Loest offices were on Twenty-third Street.

“It’s good to see you again, Annie. I don’t see nearly enough of you.”

“How’s Eunice? I don’t get much news from Aaron. We … we haven’t talked in a while.”

“We don’t talk much either,” he said, smiling ruefully.

“It must be affecting your work.”

“No worse than usual, according to Aaron.”

Annie sat back against the booth. When the waitress came, she ordered a lettuce-and-tomato on whole wheat and a glass of lemonade. Jerry waved the woman away.

“Chris is doing very well, by the way. You know, he’s a great kid.

He’s the son I never had.” Jerry smiled.

Annie nodded. Jerry and Eunice had twin daughters. She always felt Jerry had wanted a son.

“I wanted to know how the business was going, Jerry. I hate to ask you, but I don’t like to involve Chris in my problems with Aaron, and I can’t really get a straight story from him.”

“Business is up, but expenses are up higher. Aaron’s brought in some big accounts, but lately we’ve lost a couple.” Jerry paused, looked down at the table, then turned his eyes back to Annie. “I feel like I’m left on by sufferance. My relationship with Aaron has disintegrated. We hardly pass a civil word to each other anymore.”’ Annie could see how upset Jerry was. “I believe he’s trying to push me out of Paradise/Loest. And if he comes up with the money, he can do it.”

“Maybe it’s just all the pressure, Jerry. I can’t believe that Aaron would betray you. No, Jerry. Aaron needs you.”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. He’s changed. You know, you’re not the only one betrayed by Aaron Paradise.”

Step by Step.

Annie awoke early the next morning, feeling full of energy. Things never seemed as bleak after a good night’s sleep. In her cotton pajamas she hopped onto her Exercycle and did her twenty minutes of aerobics. Is this what they meant about being in touch with your anger? she thought, feeling powerful.