But for all other things except the holidays, he wanted to be with her constantly, and they were seeing each other almost every night. She had spent several nights with him in his penthouse at Trump Tower, and he planned fun weekends for them. He loved going to parties with her, but he put his foot down on spending a night with her and her roommates at the loft.

“I’m too old to spend a night with all your roommates.” He liked his privacy and his comfort, and all the luxuries he was used to. And he liked sleeping in his own bed, preferably with her. He told her that she was welcome to stay at his apartment anytime, and assigned a drawer to her for her things, and the use of a guest closet. But she hadn’t left anything there yet, it seemed too soon. She took a small bag with her when she spent the night and took it all home with her afterward. She didn’t want to be presumptuous and look like she was moving in. She respected his space. He had been a bachelor for a long time, and he was set in his ways. He had a houseman and a maid at his apartment, and they took good care of him. She still felt a little awkward when they served her breakfast in the morning, but they were very nice to her. It was an easy way of life to get used to. And he talked as though he expected her to be there for a long time, hopefully forever. He had never mentioned marriage to her, and she didn’t expect him to, or want him to, but it was constantly implied that she was the woman of his dreams, the one he had waited for all his life. He even asked her one day, when they were walking on the weekend, how many children she wanted to have, and she was honest with him.

“None.” He looked surprised. “I’ve never really wanted to have children. They seem like such a burden.” All she could remember was her father complaining about it when she was growing up, and feeling unwelcome in his life. “I’d rather have a career.”

“You can do both,” George said gently.

“I’m not sure I could, and be fair to my kids.”

“It’s a lot easier to have children when you have money,” he reminded her. “We could hire a nanny. To be honest, I’ve never wanted children either, but I’ve been rethinking it since I met you. If I were ever going to do it, I can’t think of a more perfect mother for my children than you.” She felt dizzy when he said it. It was the ultimate compliment. Everything was moving so fast, at his instigation. He acted as though they’d been dating for a year or two, instead of a month. And no one had ever said “I love you” to her as fast. It panicked her sometimes, and she would try to take a little distance from him, just so she could keep some perspective, but as soon as she did, he sensed it, and did everything he could to pull her closer again.

He knew she was worried about her career if she got too involved with him, but he assured her he wouldn’t interfere. And in spite of her fears, and occasional panic, she loved what he said. Who wouldn’t? And he texted and called her three or four times a day. It annoyed Walter whenever he became aware of it, and told her in a loud voice to tell her boyfriend to cool his jets. He was unspeakably rude, and increasingly so as he saw the mentions of their romance on Page Six. It was as though he resented what was happening to her, and he made slurs about her boyfriend and said she probably didn’t care about her job anymore, which she assured him wasn’t true. She was still supporting herself, with no help from anyone, and needed the money. But the atmosphere at work just seemed to get worse. George compensated for it lavishly on the weekends, and for two days she could forget Walter Adams and his ugly, boring shoes.

She had sent out several more e-mails with her CV, but no one had offered her a job yet. So she was still dependent on him. And George was the sweet spot in her life. They were in the honeymoon phase, where everything looked perfect and rosy to both of them. And so far, they had never had even the hint of a disagreement or a fight. She hoped they never would.

—

Sasha and Alex were doing well too. They spent as much time together as they could, and talked a lot about their work. They had both tried to negotiate their schedules, so they could work and be on call on the same days, and have the same days off, and some of the time it worked, and they did fun things. They went to concerts at Lincoln Center, and she met his friends, most of whom she liked when they had dinner with them. He rented a small sailboat one weekend, and they sailed on Long Island Sound. They went to Union Square’s farmers’ market to buy food, and to the flea market in Hell’s Kitchen. They bought pumpkins for the hospital and carved them for Halloween. She put two at the nurses’ station in labor and delivery, and they took the rest to the pediatric ward, where the kids loved them. And by then he reminded her that they were on about date twenty. They had lost count, but the right opportunity to spend a night together hadn’t turned up. Like George, he felt awkward spending the night at the loft with her roommates, or at least for the first time. And he said that his studio was a mess, and too small even for him, let alone for both of them. Valentina had asked her if they’d had sex, and told her she was ridiculous when Sasha said no. She told Sasha that she and Jean-Pierre had sex constantly, in every possible location, even on his plane. And she said there was something wrong with them, and insisted Alex was probably gay or couldn’t get it up, which Sasha told her was rude. But Alex and Sasha were in perfect harmony with each other, and they weren’t upset about the delay. And just before Halloween weekend, he had an idea.

“Why don’t we go to some cute inn in Connecticut or Massachusetts for the weekend? We’re both off. It would be nice to get away, and out of the city for two days.” She loved the suggestion, and he made a reservation at a bed and breakfast one of the other residents had told him about in Old Saybrook, Connecticut. He and his wife had spent their wedding night there.

They left the hospital together on Friday night at midnight, and at nine A.M. on Saturday, they were on the highway to Connecticut in his car. When they checked in to the tiny inn, which was on the water, they could smell the salt air and hear the seagulls from their room. And there were several quaint restaurants nearby. Sasha had brought a small suitcase with her, and Alex set it down in their room. An old couple ran the place, and their niece cleaned the rooms after school. It was just what they’d wanted, and they talked about going for a walk on the beach, but Alex stopped her before they left the room and kissed her hard on the mouth. They had been kissing for over a month, but now they were away together for a weekend. Their intentions were clear. He had wondered if she would be shy with him, but she smiled as she unbuttoned his shirt, and unzipped his pants, and he did the same for her. It had been a long, respectful wait, and now they were like old friends. There were no secrets or mysteries or hidden agendas, they knew everything about each other except their bodies, and Sasha wanted to discover the rest now. Suddenly she couldn’t wait another minute, and neither could he. They climbed into bed rapidly and laughed when it creaked, and they instantly forgot about it in a rush of desire that surprised them both. After a month of waiting while they got to know each other, now this was all they wanted, and they were both breathless afterward as they lay in bed and he admired her body. She was exquisite, and she thought he was beautiful too. They lay smiling at each other, and then they kissed again.

“I love you,” he said softly. He had waited until now to say it, but they had said it in countless ways and thoughtful gestures in the last month.

“I love you too,” she said happily. She felt as though she belonged to him now. The final bridge had been crossed. “My sister thinks we were crazy to have waited, but I’m glad we did.” They lay in bed for a long time, and then showered together, put their clothes on, and went outside to explore the small town. They took a long walk on the beach hand in hand, and then they went back to the inn and made love again before going to dinner in one of the nearby restaurants, which was romantic and sweet and entirely candlelit. It was a perfect honeymoon. They spent two days of total bliss.

They were quiet on the ride back, listening to music, and thinking about what had happened that weekend. She leaned over and kissed him, and he smiled at her. He had never felt more elated or at peace in his life.

They took their time driving back to the city, after a last walk on the beach at the end of the day. “Do you want to sleep at the apartment?” she asked him as they drove toward New York. He hesitated, but he didn’t want to spend the night without her now after what they’d shared that weekend.

“Yes, I do.” And he had another idea, but he wanted to ask his parents first.

They found a parking space right outside her building, and they walked upstairs. All three girls were home, and Max had cooked dinner for them, and Oliver and Greg were there too. It was nice finding all of them there. It was like coming home to a loving family after their honeymoon. They hadn’t had dinner, and Max had enough left for them, and poured them both a glass of wine. Morgan and Claire were still sitting at the table, and Abby was deep in conversation with Greg on the couch about her book. George had come for dinner but had already gone home. He had an early meeting the next morning, and Claire had decided to stay at the apartment, so they could get some sleep. They’d had a busy weekend. They had gone to Bermuda on his plane, and stayed on a yacht he had chartered.

“Where were you two all weekend?” Max asked as they ate the pot roast he had prepared, which everyone loved. It was his grandmother’s recipe from the old country, and he’d made it with mashed potatoes and creamed spinach, and chocolate soufflé for dessert, with crème anglaise.