Triangle, p.6
Triangle, page 6
She told Pascal about it the next day.
“I have friends like that, who’re still hanging on to their student days,” Pascal said, “because their adult lives never turned out the way they hoped. It always seems pathetic to me. I was happy when my student days were over and I could get on with real life.”
“Me too. I wonder if his book will be any good.” Tom was smart, had been a brilliant student, and had had a talent for writing even then.
“Do you think he wants to go out with you while he’s here, as more than just an old friend, I mean?” Pascal asked her, curious about the ex-boyfriend who had reappeared.
“I got that impression at dinner, and I tried to deflate that balloon pretty quickly. We have nothing in common, and my life is here. He was fine when we were in college, but we’re too different. We wouldn’t even be friends if we met today.”
“That’s how I feel every time I meet up with an old girlfriend. When it’s over it’s done for me.” Amanda nodded agreement, especially about someone she had dated at nineteen, and she turned her mind to other things.
Olivier called and invited her to dinner the next day, and Tom called and invited her to dinner on Saturday, and she told him she was busy. She didn’t want to encourage him, or mislead him. It wouldn’t be fair. He was at a low point and vulnerable after his divorce obviously, and she had no romantic interest in him. He was just a souvenir of her youth. Olivier was much more interesting, and Amanda wanted to spend time with him and get to know him better.
When they had dinner again, she told Olivier about an art fair she was going to in London, and he told her excitedly that he would be there at the same time. By pure coincidence, he was going to a book fair in London.
“Let’s plan to spend some time together while we’re there,” he said enthusiastically. And she told him about an art opening they were doing at the gallery in Paris before that. He said he’d be delighted to come. He wanted to see more of her life and how she lived it. He had asked around and had been told the gallery had a great reputation, and so did she. He was impressed by everything she was doing, and she thought his publishing house sounded fascinating. They felt like a perfect fit in so many ways. They both loved the businesses they had started and the talented people whose careers they encouraged and watched flourish. They were both mentors of talented, creative people. Amanda was sorry she hadn’t met Olivier sooner. He was doing in publishing what she was doing in art.
They went for a long walk in the Bois de Boulogne on Sunday. They held hands as they walked, he stopped her under a tree and kissed her, and he held her for a long moment afterward, savoring the feeling of her next to him in his arms.
“Where have you been all my life, Amanda?” he asked wistfully, and then smiled and kissed her again. “You have so much energy, so much passion in you. You’re bursting with life.”
“Pascal says it’s very annoying, especially when he’s hungover and I won’t stop talking. I always have new ideas to make the gallery more accessible and interesting, especially for young collectors.” Olivier already knew that about her, just from talking to her.
They sat down on a bench after that, and he kissed her again. They watched the dogs running, the children playing, couples kissing. It was a perfect scene for a Sunday afternoon. It made her realize how much she’d been missing by being alone, and made her want to change things now and spend more time with him, although they were both busy, she with the gallery and he with publishing. It was fun educating each other about the challenges in their work lives.
He dropped by the gallery one evening before they closed. She introduced him to Pascal, and he admitted to her afterward that Olivier was very impressive.
“But you still don’t know if he’s married,” he reminded her. Pascal was more obsessed with asking Olivier the question than she was.
“Don’t be ridiculous. He takes me to all the most popular restaurants in Paris openly. He introduces me to whoever we run into. He walks in the park with me and kisses me. Do you think he’d do any of that if he were married? If I asked him that question now, it would be insulting. I’d feel stupid and sound as though I don’t trust him. And I do. He would have told me by now. Stop obsessing about it.”
“You’ll be a lot more insulted if his wife shows up. Some couples make strange agreements. Maybe they have an open marriage, or she’s away a lot.”
“Or maybe she doesn’t exist except in your head. There is no way he would do any of this with me if he were married. I would bet my life on it. You’re being paranoid.”
“Okay, if you say so. If I were in your shoes, I’d ask him, even if the question seems redundant.”
“Well, I’m not going to. I trust him.”
“I can see why you would. He’s a cool guy. For your sake, I’d just like to be sure he’s a cool single guy. What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid. I just don’t think the question is necessary or appropriate.” She and Olivier hadn’t slept with each other yet, but he had mentioned going away for a weekend with her. To Venice or Rome or Lake Como, somewhere romantic. It seemed like a nice beginning to her. And they were looking forward to being in London together before that, even though they’d both be working. They had a whole future to look forward to.
* * *
—
Amanda and Pascal worked hard on the opening of the show they were about to hang. It was an important show for a well-known artist they had recently signed to represent, and some of their bigger clients were going to be there. She reminded Olivier, and he said he wouldn’t miss it.
Tom Quinlan called her two days before the show and invited her to dinner again, and she said she didn’t have time. He sounded so forlorn that she invited him to the opening too, and told him there would be lots of pretty women there. He was touched to be asked and said he’d come. He had just spent a whole day at the Louvre, and another at the Pompidou Centre. He said his book was off to a slow start and he was enjoying being in Paris. He promised to see her at the show, and then she forgot about him. She had a million details to attend to for the opening.
The night of the show, she and Pascal had everything set up perfectly. Their assistants were there to greet the guests, she had hired one of the best caterers in Paris to serve champagne and hors d’oeuvres, and almost everyone they’d invited showed up. Their new artist was pleased with the turnout, and two important art critics came to review the show. The evening was a success almost as soon as they opened their doors. Tom Quinlan came too. Amanda introduced him to Pascal, and they spent a few minutes chatting, and then Pascal had to go and greet one of their clients and Tom circulated in the crowd, meeting people. He was pleasant and personable, and mingled well. Amanda had barely had time to say hello to him, but he chatted with several artists, including the one having the show. He seemed surprisingly at ease among strangers, despite his minimal French.
Olivier came late and was vastly impressed by the guest list, and the show itself. Pascal introduced him to the artist, and Amanda joined them a few minutes later. The four of them stood talking and laughing. When she noticed Tom leaving, she went to say goodbye to him and thank him for coming.
“I’m sorry I was so busy,” she apologized.
“Don’t be silly, I know you’re working. Is that your boyfriend?” he asked, pointing to the three men she had been talking to before she came to say goodbye.
“That’s my business partner and a friend, and you met the artist.” She couldn’t call Olivier her boyfriend yet, they had just started dating. And it was none of Tom’s business. She didn’t want to feed his curiosity about her personal life.
“I just wondered. I like your partner. He’s a smart guy. He’s lucky that he gets to work with you,” he said enviously.
“I’m not sure he’d say that,” she said, laughing, as she kissed Tom on the cheek and left him as he walked through the door. She went back to the others, still milling around the gallery, drinking and talking. Olivier put an arm around her and pulled her close to him, and he stayed until the end of the party. The evening had gone beautifully, and she and Pascal were both proud of the show.
It was a long evening and a resounding success. Olivier told her again how impressed he was when he left.
She and Pascal talked about it the next day when they came to work. The reviews were excellent. The artist was thrilled, and so were they.
“I like both of your men by the way,” Pascal said with a smile, and she frowned at him.
“What men?”
“The charming boyish American, and handsome, dazzling Olivier. I talked to both of them. They’re both good guys. You have my approval for either one, if you want it.”
“I don’t. Tom is ancient history and you know it. And Olivier is just beginning.” She beamed when she said his name, and it was obvious who she was interested in, but they were proceeding slowly. “He’s not ‘my man’ yet,” although she liked that idea very much, more so every day. He was being very attentive and fun to be with.
“I’m not so sure Tom considers himself ancient history,” Pascal said. “He talks about your time together at NYU as though it was yesterday.”
“He’s probably lonely here and trying to hang on to his youth. I’ve made it very clear to him that I’m not interested in reviving the past.”
“He looks like he’s still in love with you. He didn’t take his eyes off you all night.”
“Well, he’d better get over it. I’m not going to exhume the past with him. We were just kids. It’s twenty years later and we’ve grown up. I won’t have lunch or dinner with him again if he doesn’t understand that. I think he’s just lonely after the divorce.”
“He’s actually a nice guy. I talked to him for a while. He’s very bright. But I have to admit, I can’t see you with him, even at nineteen. He’ll figure it out eventually. But you could have done worse. He’s intelligent, successful, in great shape, and seems like a decent person. And he’s crazy about you. They both are. It’s nice to have choices in life,” he reminded her.
“I don’t want a choice. Tom is not an option. I like Olivier a lot. He’s the only man I’m interested in. What about you? I saw you with that young artist we don’t represent. She’s very pretty.”
“She wants nothing to do with me so I’m madly in love with her,” Pascal said ironically, and Amanda laughed at him. She hoped Tom Quinlan wasn’t going to be a problem. She didn’t like awkward situations and didn’t want him to become one. “Why don’t you just enjoy it?” Pascal said to her. “You haven’t had two guys chasing you in all the years I’ve known you. It’s flattering. They’re not about to fight a duel and bleed all over the front steps. They’re both intelligent, civilized, successful men, and finally you’ve got two men who appreciate you. That’s not all bad. Have some fun with it.”
“It makes me nervous,” she said, as they sat in her office. “Tom is twenty years past our expiration date. The only reason he’s interested in me is because he just got divorced. He needs to meet a new woman, not hang on to an old one. And Olivier and I need time to get to know each other.” But things were going beautifully between them. And now she couldn’t wait for their trip to London. It would be fun to be in another city with him, and who knew what would happen while they were there. Hopefully, by the time they got back Tom would have met someone and would have a woman to spend time with. Amanda was never going to be that person in his life again, no matter how suitable Pascal thought he was. Tom’s day had come and gone. She barely remembered the time they had spent together. All that she could recall now was that she was no longer in love with him when he left. And she certainly wasn’t now. The man of the hour was Olivier, and Pascal had finally admitted that he no longer thought he was married and had stopped nagging her about it. Olivier would never have behaved the way he did with her if he were married, without warning her of that fact. He was an honorable man, it was written all over him. Pascal hoped that things would work out for them. It certainly looked that way for now.
Amanda could hardly wait for the trip to London. Anything could happen. Pascal was going to babysit Lulu in Paris. He loved it when he did, which only occurred when Amanda had to go to London, because of British regulations about dogs. So she left her in Paris with Pascal. The British no longer required a six-month quarantine for dogs entering the country, as they had years before. But they did require foreign dogs to take a medication for tapeworms. And her vet said that Lulu was too small to take it, so she had to leave her in Paris. Pascal was delighted to dog-sit for her. The tiny dog was a magnet for beautiful women who couldn’t wait to talk to him and fuss over “his” dog. He wondered if the artist he was pursuing liked dogs. Maybe that would do the trick. And if not, there was always another woman around the next corner. He hadn’t met her yet, but eventually he always did. And Lulu would assist him with the search.
Chapter 5
The art fair in London was a small, exclusive one, attended by serious collectors and some important artists. A handful of fine galleries had exhibits there. Amanda had only brought half a dozen of her gallery’s high-priced paintings, and she had appointments with some of their best British clients. It was an honor to be included in the fair, which was being held at a small hall in Mayfair on Albemarle Street, tastefully decorated and the perfect setting for high-end art.
She always stayed at Claridge’s, and Olivier was staying at Brooks’s club as the guest of a friend. The book fair he was attending was more of a “salon” than a fair, and was attended by a less elite crowd than Amanda’s clients. He had scheduled several appointments with British authors, and a few publishers he knew well. He had a number of people to see but had promised to spend time with her in the evening. He called her on her cellphone at six o’clock. She was still talking to clients in the small booth she had set up, and they were drinking champagne. She invited Olivier to join them, and he managed to get there just before seven. The art fair was open until nine, and then people went to dinner at various fancy restaurants.
Olivier enjoyed meeting the people Amanda introduced him to, and they left the fair together when the last of her clients left at eight-thirty. He had made a reservation at Harry’s Bar, where he was a member, and it was one of her favorite restaurants. They served delicious Italian food and had a very elite membership. Amanda was looking forward to spending the evening with Olivier and hearing about his meetings that day. He wanted to introduce several new British authors in France and establish an exchange with the right British publishing house to translate some of his French authors. It would add a new dimension to what he could provide for his authors now. He was creative and ambitious, and excited about his work, just as she was. They were an even match, which was new for her. There had always been an imbalance in her relationships with men before. This time she loved the idea of being with someone whose energy and goals matched hers.
They had drinks at Claridge’s after dinner, and Olivier made no attempt to come upstairs. He didn’t want their first night together to come at the end of a long workday, when they were both tired and distracted. He said he wanted their time together to be special, and Amanda agreed. She’d been running since eight o’clock that morning, with a breakfast meeting that started her day. By the time she left him in the lobby she was exhausted, but had loved the evening. Olivier was thoughtful and kind, well-mannered and wonderful to talk to. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she was with the right man, on the same path, headed in the same direction. So far, there hadn’t been a single unpleasant moment and nothing to cause her concern. She wasn’t sure how well Lulu would take to him, but he said he liked dogs.
They spent five days in London over a long holiday weekend, and on their last night, Olivier wanted to spoil Amanda and took her to Murano in Mayfair for dinner. She had concluded three important deals that day, and he had found a British publisher he wanted to work with. The trip had been a success for both of them. They had much to celebrate after their first time away together, and they had been restrained. Olivier had suggested Saint-Tropez for their first romantic weekend, which sounded like fun to her, and they had agreed to wait until then. They had just finished a delicate pasta dish, with caviar first, and were drinking a very fine bottle of Chassagne-Montrachet, when he turned to her quietly, talking about their upcoming weekend in Saint-Tropez. A friend of Olivier’s was lending them his house. It sounded romantic and wonderful, and like a dream come true.
“We can go to the Hotel du Cap in Cap d’Antibes, if you prefer.” It was the most exclusive hotel in Europe, Amanda had stayed there several times with her father and hadn’t been back since. She couldn’t justify spending that kind of money on a hotel for herself. Maybe for a honeymoon or a romantic tryst. “But we’ll have more privacy at my friend’s house. It’s fine with me either way. We don’t need to hide. I haven’t discussed it with you yet, Amanda. I’m married, but my wife and I have an understanding. We lead entirely separate lives.” She stared at him in silence for a minute, unable to speak. She felt as though he had just shot her in the chest, more precisely her heart, and it took her breath away. For a second, she thought she was going to faint.
“You what?”
“We have an understanding,” he repeated in a gentle voice.
“You waited until now to tell me that you’re married?” He had been courting her for over a month, with roses and dinners and kisses, and a flood of texts and phone calls. Pascal was right. She felt as though Olivier had dropped a grand piano on her chest. She could barely breathe.
“I wanted to tell you before we go away together. It doesn’t change anything between us or what we’ve been doing until now. I’m completely free to lead my own life. But I thought you should know.”
