Undying Love (12 page)

“Eleanor, is that a copy of a Degas by the piano?” she asked.

My mother’s lips pursed as she shot Allee a condescending look. “Darling, reproductions are found in hotels. Everything you see here is an original.”

I cringed. Allee gulped. “Ohmygod! Ryan didn’t tell me that his family owned a real Degas. He’s one of my favorite painters.”

My mother took a swig of her champagne. “Ellie—”

“It’s Allee, Mother,” I intercepted. She was sloshed all right. I supposed the buzz, or numbness, or whatever she felt was an antidote to the loneliness and pain caused by my father’s indiscretions.

She continued. “You have such an unusual accent. Where are you from?”

“France,” said Allee with a poker face.

I had to bite down on my lip not to laugh.

“That’s a very unusual French accent.”

“
Oui
. I come from a very unusual region of France. Not many people have heard about Reines.” She spelled it out.

I almost peed in my pants. “Reines” in French meant “Queens.” Allee asked my mother if she could look more closely at the painting. “Be my guest,” she slurred, returning to her champagne. As Allee strode over to examine the Degas (Man, did she know how to move in those heels!), my father made his grand entrance. My brief moment of levity came to an abrupt halt.

“Allee, I’d like you to meet my father, Ryan Madewell III.”

Allee pivoted around on her heels. She made eye contact with my father. Every ounce of color drained from her face. I seriously thought she might pass out.

My gaze darted back to my father. As blanched as her face was, his was reddened. The expression on his face was a mixture of shock and disdain. How could he be so judgmental so quickly? Wearing his classic uniform, a rich black cashmere blazer and tan slacks, he stiffly met her halfway.

“So, we at last formally meet, Miss—”

“Adair,” Allee stuttered. She hesitantly offered him her hand. It was trembling.

He lifted it to his lips and kissed it. Allee didn’t move a muscle.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” said my father, his voice as frigid as a glacier.

We adjourned to the formal dining room. Tonight’s meal was Cornish hens à l’orange. I think Allee may have enjoyed the French dish, had the tension in the air not been so thick. A knife couldn’t cut through it.

Throughout the meal, my father’s eyes alternately clashed with Allee’s and mine. She barely touched her dinner. I didn’t eat much either. Whenever I looked at Allee, she looked away from me. She hadn’t regained her color.

“Are you okay, baby?” I asked her, wishing I could take her in my arms. Unfortunately, she was seated across from me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t feel well.” She excused herself from the table, asking Maria for the location of the nearest bathroom.

My mother, on her God-knows-what-number glass of champagne, was oblivious to the strained atmosphere and blabbered on about her recent philanthropic endeavors and the latest society gossip. Among her coterie of friends, she had gained the nickname “Loose Lips Eleanor” whenever she drank too much. By the end of dinner, we knew the dirt on every Botoxed socialite in New York. She even made a cutting remark about my sister and her pregnancy. My father’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth pressed into an angry line. “That lesbian sister of yours is not fit to be a mother,” he growled.

I cringed. He was not fit to be a father.

Before coffee and dessert were served, my father coldly asked to see me in his study. He took his scotch with him. Fuming inside, I followed him.

He sat down behind his antique desk and looked me straight in the eye.

“Son, I’m going to get straight to the point. I want you stop seeing that low-life tramp.”

My blood curdled. How dare he call her that? He spent all of one minute talking to her. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

“Don’t talk about her like that, sir.”

“I’m your father and I can say what I want. She is not worthy of the Madewell name.”

“Well, I think she is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to marry her.” The words shot of my mouth like bullets.

A fury fell over my father like I’d never seen. His face hardened, and his fists clenched until they turned white.

“Son, if you marry that woman, I will destroy your life. Starting by firing you from your job.”

I met my father’s fiery gaze head on. “No need, Father. I quit.”

I stormed out of his office, without looking back to see his expression, and stomped back to the dining room. Fortunately, Allee was returning at the same time. She still looked terribly pale. Faint, in fact.

I grabbed her by the arm. “Baby, let’s get the fuck out of this hellhole.”

“Darling, so soon?” slurred my mother in her drunken stupor. Maria, clearing the table, looked my way with compassion.

Introducing Allee to my sicko parents was a bad idea. A really bad idea. Maybe we just should have eloped. And maybe that’s just what we were going to do.

I cradled Allee in my arms in the backseat of the Escalade while Marcus drove us back to my loft downtown.

There was silence on her part. Her eyes looked glazed, though I knew she wasn’t drunk; she hadn’t even touched her wine. “What’s the matter, baby?” I asked, stroking her silky hair.

“I told you; I don’t feel good.”

I pressed my lips to her forehead. It wasn’t hot. No fever. “Do you have your period?” I ventured. Charlotte was always sick when she had hers. I instantly regretted asking when I remembered she was infertile.

She simply shook her head. Closing her eyes, she sank deeper into my chest. Once we were back in my loft, we got ready for bed. Allee lethargically put on a pair of my sweats, saying she was cold. I held her in my bare arms. The burning urge to make love to her spread like a wildfire inside me. I nuzzled her neck.

“Not tonight, Madewell,” she murmured, pushing me away.

This was the first time she had spurned my advances. I yearned to tell her about my decision to quit
Arts & Smarts
, but I couldn’t penetrate the thick wall she’d put up. She slept on the other side of the bed, not letting me even snuggle her. In the middle of the night, she woke up shaking and screaming, “Get off me,” over and over.

“What’s the matter, baby?” I asked, comforting her in my arms.

She was damp with cold sweat. “I had a terrible dream. Your father was in it. He was a monster. And your mother was in it too. She watched him eat me alive.”

I got it. My parents had sickened her. I knew because they sickened me.

I smoothed her hair and kissed her lightly on her head. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you.”
That bastard!

Holding Allee in my arms, I thought about tomorrow, when I would tell my staff that I was leaving
Arts & Smarts
. Words didn’t sprint into my head, so I was going to have to wing it. Before I drifted off, the sleepy sandman from my childhood sprinkled me with sadness.

THIRTEEN

A
fter a restless night of sleep, I woke up at the crack of dawn. Allee was not beside me. And the smell of a delicious breakfast was not wafting up the stairs. I staggered out of bed and did my normal morning routines. Pulling out my jeans and a tee from my walk-in closet, I noticed that Allee’s museum uniform was gone, along with her coat. Perhaps she had an early-morning meeting at the museum. I tried her on her cell. No answer. I left a message on her voice mail, asking to call me back right away. I desperately wanted to tell her that I was stepping down as Editor in Chief of
Arts & Smarts
. I needed her support. And I needed to hear her husky, sexy voice.

I got dressed quickly and made myself some coffee. I was not looking forward to going to my office. Allee’s failure to return my calls didn’t help.

Once I was there, I gathered my troops in the kitchen by the coffee machine.

I sucked in a deep breath. This was beyond hard. I’d been at
Arts & Smarts
for over five years, nurturing and watching it grow like a child. The staffers and I had grown close. They were like family.

“Guys, this is difficult.” I inhaled another deep, anxious breath. “For personal reasons, I’m stepping down as Editor in Chief of
Arts & Smarts.”
Gasps filled the room.

Inhaling again, I continued. “In the transition period, until a new Editor in Chief is found, I’m appointing Duffy McDermitt as my successor. All of you know Duffy. He’s talented, passionate, and committed. He will lead the way, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he found his calling in this new role.”

All eyes turned to Duffy. He was as humbled as he was shocked.

“A
’
n S’
ers, you don’t know how hard this is for me.” My voice grew watery. “You’ve been like family. In fact, the best and most talented family I could ever have.”

There were tears and sniffles all around. It took all I had to stifle mine; Madewells were not allowed to cry. “All I can say is that I will miss you all and look forward to every edition of
Arts & Smarts.”

Amidst tears and cheers, I humbly marched out of the room. Duffy followed me.

When I reached my desk and started packing up my personal belongings, Duffy asked me why I was doing this.

I answered with one word. “Allee.”

He threw his arms around me. “Good luck, man.”

“And good luck to you, Duffster.” He was now the one who had to deal with my father, the bastard.

I was still in a state of shock when I returned to my loft. I had just stepped down as Editor in Chief of
Arts & Smarts
. I had never quit anything in my life. Madewells weren’t allowed to be quitters. In a way, I should chalk this up as a victory. I had defied my father for once in my life.

I immediately tried calling Allee again on her cell; when she didn’t answer it, I called the museum. I desperately needed to talk to her; she would make me feel better, make everything feel right. The jovial operator promised to give her a message. Rather than waiting for her to return my call, I decided to go for a jog around my neighborhood. Maybe a run would give me some clarity as to what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Unfortunately, it didn’t help. My mind was too muddled with uncertainty, rage, and despair. Fuck my father.

When I got back from my run, there was a text message from Allee on my cell phone.

I can’t see u anymore.
My heart hammered. Was she breaking up with me because of my parents?

What do u mean?
I immediately texted her back, hoping that she was on her lunch break and would reply.

It can’t work.

WTF?

There was no further response. I tried calling her, but she wouldn’t pick up. I tried again, leaving her a message to please call me back. That it was important. No response. I tried one more time and then I called the Met again to have them give her an urgent message to call me. The day turned into night. I didn’t hear back from Allee. I was beginning to think it was futile. Fuck. I bet my father got to her. The fucking bastard. Not only was my career over; my relationship was over too.