Danielle Steel - The Apartment

She was beginning to think of things she had never thought of before, like getting married and having children. He was opening new horizons and previously locked places in her heart. It was too soon to think about any of it, or making changes in her life, but she was falling madly in love with him.

The following weekend, when he took her to Florida, they spent a night in Miami, and the second night in Palm Beach, and had even more fun than they had had in Vermont. They already knew each other better, and were learning more every day. He didn’t like talking about his childhood, but Claire had finally told him about her depressing father, and her mother giving up her career for him. It explained how desperate she was to remain independent and do her work. She never wanted to be dependent on a man, even him. And George understood.

They went water-skiing in Miami off a yacht he had chartered for the day, and ate at all the best restaurants. She felt like a fairy princess living in a dream with him.

—

“What’s happening with Claire?” Sasha asked Morgan on Saturday morning, when they were making coffee in the kitchen. Abby was still asleep. She had been at her computer working constantly on the new play and staying up late, so Sasha and Morgan were alone at the kitchen table. “She’s out all the time, and away for the weekend,” Sasha commented. Morgan was quiet for a moment and didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know the details, but she was aware that Claire was with George for the weekend.

“She’s seeing someone,” Morgan said simply.

“Wow, she didn’t say anything to me. Do you know who it is?” Sasha asked her.

Morgan nodded, trying not to look worried about it. “It’s George.” It took a minute to register, and then Sasha’s eyes opened wide.

“Your boss?” Morgan nodded. “How did that happen?”

“We had dinner at Max’s restaurant, George was there, and stopped at our table. I introduced him to Claire. And the rest, as they say, is history. They’ve been crazy about each other ever since.” It hadn’t been long, but it was intense. And Claire looked like she was walking on air whenever Morgan saw her. She just hoped it would last, but she wasn’t sure. George was hard to read, and even harder to predict.

“Do you think it’s for real with him?” Sasha asked with concern.

“I don’t know. It could be. One of these days, some woman will land him, and it might as well be Claire. He has a history of short relationships, but just from the little I know, and can sense from her, I don’t think he’s ever been this serious before.”

“Wow,” Sasha said again. “Where is she this weekend?”

“Florida, I think. They went on his plane.”

“What a cool thing for her, if this works.” Morgan smiled at what she said, and hoped so too.

“What about you?” Morgan asked her as they sat at the table with their coffee. “How’s it going with the young doctor?”

“Nicely. Slow but sure. Neither of us wants to make any fast moves and screw it up.”

“That sounds good.”

“It works for us.” Sasha stayed in the kitchen after Morgan went to get dressed. She was going to help Max with his books at the restaurant. They all had relationships now, in various stages, three of them with good, interesting, worthwhile men. The only rotten apple in the barrel was Ivan, and all Sasha could hope, for Abby’s sake, was that she’d get rid of him soon.

In October, when Morgan was going over research for a presentation, she asked for some files from accounting, and realized within a few minutes that they’d given her the wrong ones. She called them to have them send her the right ones, and something caught her eye on the balance sheets while she waited for them to pick them up. There had been a transfer of a hundred thousand dollars, and a withdrawal of twenty thousand that didn’t look right to her. The money didn’t belong in that account. She could see that a week later there had been an unexplained deposit of the twenty, and the hundred thousand had been moved back again, into the right account. It didn’t make sense to her. She wondered if it had been an error in accounting that they had corrected. All the numbers looked right at the end, but there had been some moving and shifting that she couldn’t explain. She thought about telling George about it, but since the money had all ended up in the right place, it didn’t really matter. But it seemed odd to her. A lot of money came in and out of their office for clients, and she knew George had a remarkable head for numbers and a keen radar, and he kept a close eye on their books. It was important to do that in a firm like theirs, so maybe he knew about it, and had demanded the correction. It wasn’t really worrisome since no funds were missing, but she couldn’t explain it to herself. Just to be sure, if the subject came up later, she xeroxed the file before they came to pick it up, and she put the xeroxed pages in a locked drawer in her desk. And then she got to work on the research she had to do for the next day.

The error in accounting slipped her mind entirely after that. They had a number of new clients, and she had a lot of work to do.

She had noticed what good spirits George was in since he’d started seeing Claire, and he didn’t say anything to Morgan, but he looked like a man in love. She had never seen him as happy or as relaxed, and Claire was like a field of flowers in spring. She had even stopped complaining about her boss.

And Sasha was happy too. She was busy, content, and at peace, and she and Alex were having fun. They laughed a lot whenever he came to the apartment, and they had dinner at Max’s restaurant at least once a week. And Alex and Max were cooking dinner together now on Sunday nights at the loft. Max was still the master chef, and Alex was the sous chef, anxious to learn new tricks from him. Alex fit in perfectly to their self-made family, and the others hoped that he’d stick. It was too soon to tell.

The only one who clearly wasn’t happy, and seemed downright miserable, was Abby. Ivan was torturing her, and there were even more excuses than before about why he wasn’t around, or was out of range. He was sick, he had a migraine, he had put his back out moving scenery, he had to meet with backers or his accountant, he was reading new plays, he was exhausted from reading new plays, his cell battery had died, and he lost the phone itself once or twice a week, or there was no cell service wherever he’d been. He was like chasing quicksilver across the floor. Abby was constantly looking for him, and listening to his excuses when he turned up. And Daphne was around increasingly, while he claimed he was trying to teach her the business. And her father was supposedly eluding Ivan, and constantly traveling for business, so they hadn’t met yet. And their bank account was nearly empty. Their financial situation was desperate.

And at the theater, while Abby continued to paint scenery and clean up, Daphne was constantly underfoot, but Ivan didn’t want her to help. He told Abby she had asthma, and it would be bad for her health, and her father would be pissed. So Abby remained the slave, doing everything for him, and Daphne was the new fairy princess. Abby was trying to be patient about it, but her nerves were frayed. And he was either too sick, too tired, or too busy to come to the apartment to be with her, or he hadn’t slept in days, and didn’t want her spending the night at his place. It had become ridiculous, and even Abby knew it. But Ivan wouldn’t ’fess up about what was going on. Abby was tired of his excuses. He was beginning to seem like the liar he was.

And when Abby asked Daphne about her father one afternoon, to be polite, and where he was traveling these days, Daphne looked at her blankly, and with a wistful expression said he had died two years before. The jig was up. Abby said nothing to her, but she was waiting for Ivan at the theater when he got there that night. He had a meeting in his office with Daphne that lasted for nearly an hour, and when she slipped out of his office looking flushed and sweaty, Abby quietly went in. She was not going to be put off anymore. It had gone on for too long, and he had played her for a fool.

He was adjusting his belt when she walked in, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d been doing. She tried not to think of it when she confronted him. She could feel tears choking her throat.

“Where were you this afternoon?” And then she baited him. “Were you with Daphne’s father, discussing the angel money with him?”

“Yes, I was.” Ivan looked serious and dignified as he faced her and stared her straight in the eye. “He wants to give it some more thought.”

“That must have been a difficult meeting for you,” she said sympathetically. Her hands were shaking, but he couldn’t see them.

“And why is that? He’s a very nice man, and grateful for what we’re doing for his daughter.” She nodded and went on after Ivan spoke.

“Were you at a séance?” she asked in a solemn voice.

“Of course not. Why would you ask that?”

“Because he’s been dead for two years. You should have checked with Daphne before you lied about her father. You seem a little foolish after that. And actually, more than foolish, you look like a shit, because you are one. You’re having an affair with her, and I know it.” He interrupted her, and he was pale.

“Did she tell you that too?” He was panicked.

“No, you just did. I figured it out the first time she walked into the theater, and you told her the same lies you told me three years ago about producing my play. And you’re never going to produce hers either. Why bother to keep me around once you had her? Just to clean the floors and paint the scenery? Why lie to me about where you are, who you’re with, your migraines, your back, your lost cell phone, and all of it? You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care who you’re screwing or who you’re lying to. I’ve closed my eyes and my ears and my mind for three years because I loved you and I believed you. I don’t love you or believe you anymore, and one day she won’t either, and you can find another young blonde to give you blow jobs in your office and screw you. You’re pathetic. You really are what everyone says about you, you’re a pathetic, arrogant dick. And I am through with you. Take Daphne, take her play, and all your lies and bullshit, and you know where you can put them. I hope she won’t be as stupid as I was. And good luck getting the money out of her dead father because he’s so grateful to you. Fuck you, Ivan Jones,” she said clearly, yanked open the door to his office, walked out, and slammed it behind her. She hadn’t felt this good in months. And as she walked across the stage to leave the theater, she saw Daphne standing in the wings.