Danielle Steel - The Apartment

They finished dinner in silence, and he took her home to Hell’s Kitchen in the Ferrari in a huff, and went back to his apartment after he dropped her off. He never stayed at the loft with her anyway, but he didn’t invite her to stay with him uptown that night. He was mad. And she held her ground. But she was depressed the next day about the argument, and she looked glum at her desk, when a messenger walked in carrying an enormous bouquet of roses with a card that said, “I’m sorry I was such a jerk last night. Go to Orlando. I love you. G.” She smiled the minute she saw it and called him immediately, and thanked him for being understanding.

“I’m sorry, Claire. I was just disappointed. I wanted to go with you and show you off.”

“I’d much rather be with you than in Orlando,” she said honestly, and then noticed that Walter was standing there, listening to her, and she told George she had to get off. This was a headache she did not need.

“So are you coming to Orlando or not?” her boss asked her angrily.

“Of course I’m coming.”

“Then what are the flowers about?”

“He loves me, that’s all,” she said nervously.

“You’re going to wind up marrying him and quitting,” he said, looking sour.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly, “except to Orlando with you.”

“Fine,” he said gruffly, and stalked out of her office. She always felt like she was on thin ice with him now, but better with him than with George. And she was relieved that they had resolved their first big argument nicely, and he had backed down.

And that night, George told her he was taking her away for the weekend, and it was a surprise. He told her to pack summer clothes, and she couldn’t wait to find out where they were going. He was a good secret keeper, and she didn’t find out till Saturday morning when they got on the plane. He was taking her to the Turks and Caicos. He had told her to “think beach,” so she had brought the right clothes. He had rented a private villa with their own pool, at the best resort on the island. He still felt guilty about their fight and wanted to make it up to her, which he did. They hardly put their clothes on all weekend, and spent most of it in bed, and the rest lying naked by their private pool, making love in it, or having dinners served on their private patio at night. It was a fabulous weekend.

And two days after she got back, she went to Orlando with Walter, in coach on a commercial flight, to stay at a Holiday Inn, and George went to the mayor’s black-tie dinner. She called him as soon as she checked in to the hotel.

“You’ve ruined me,” she teased him. “Do you know what it’s like to fly coach again and stay at the Holiday Inn after our incredible weekend? I feel like Cinderella after the ball, with no glass slipper. This sucks.” He laughed at her and told her it served her right for not coming to the dinner with him. But he also said he missed her, and couldn’t wait for her to come back in two days.

The trade show was as boring and tedious as ever, and exhausting, and George took her to dinner the night she got back. They had dinner at Max’s, and he told her all about the dinner she had missed. He had sat next to the mayor’s wife and Lady Gaga, and said he’d had a boring time without her, which was hard to imagine and flattering, given who was there. He wasn’t angry at her anymore, just happy to have her back in New York. And the following week he was going to Aspen, and she was going to San Francisco for Thanksgiving with her parents. She hated to leave him for that too, but she knew he’d have fun on the slopes, and he had friends there. He went several times a year, and was an expert skier. He was going to have a lot more fun than she was, without a doubt.

On Tuesday night before the Thanksgiving weekend, George had their own Thanksgiving dinner catered by “21” for them at his apartment, and the meal was delicious, better than most Thanksgivings. The turkey wasn’t dry, the stuffing was perfect, there was cranberry jelly, mashed potatoes, an assortment of vegetables, and pumpkin, pecan, and apple pie for dessert, with whipped cream.

“I thought we should have our own Thanksgiving dinner, since we won’t be together,” he said lovingly to Claire. “I’m sorry I’m such a no-show about holidays. They just upset me, and Christmas is even worse. It’s the worst day of the year for me. It brings up all my old stuff. I’d rather just ignore it, and ski my ass off in Aspen, but I’m going to miss you,” he said, and kissed her. And after dinner they went to bed. They had agreed that she wouldn’t spend the night, since he was leaving too early the next morning. He was planning to get up at five and leave the apartment by six. But he wanted to make love to her before they both left.

“I want to give you something to remember when you’re in San Francisco,” he teased her. And he made it a memorable evening for her. They made love as passionately as they had the first time. He was an incredible lover, and she was learning a lot from him. He was patient and gentle and had learned her body well, and everything that pleasured her, and at other times he was so passionate he was almost rough, but everything he did to her made her body keen for him again and again. He made love to her twice, and the second time, he lay in bed looking at her afterward, and said something that touched her deeply.

“I want to have babies with you one day, Claire. Please tell me you’ll be the mother of my children.” He looked so serious when he said it that she didn’t have the heart to refuse him, and for the first time in her life she nodded and said yes, and meant it. And he clung to her after that like a drowning child. “I love you so much,” he said to her, and then regretfully they got up, and he drove her home, and kissed her for a long time before she got out. “I’m going to miss you. Take good care of yourself. See you Sunday.” She walked into the building and felt like she was on a cloud, remembering what he’d said. It was already two o’clock, and he had to get up in three hours. It was going to be a short night for him. But he could sleep on the plane on the way to Colorado. Her flight was leaving at ten o’clock so she had to get up early too.

It had been a beautiful evening, he had seen to that, and she kept thinking about what he had said to her after they made love the second time, about wanting to have children with her. It was not something she had ever longed for, but she could see herself having children with him now, and now it was her hope too. He hadn’t proposed to her that night, but he had said he wanted her to be the mother of his children, which was almost the same thing. Her future was linked with his now. And she knew it was going to be a beautiful life with him. Of that she was sure. He was someone you could count on. He was the kind of man one should marry, not like her father. George was her dream come true.

Claire and Abby shared a cab to Kennedy Airport, since their planes were leaving at almost the same time, Claire’s to San Francisco, and Abby’s to L.A. Claire thought that by the time her flight left, George might have landed in Aspen, but she hadn’t heard from him yet. She was going to have a quiet Thanksgiving holiday with her parents, as she always did. She no longer saw her old friends when she went home for a few days. She had been gone for ten years since she left for college, their lives were too different now, they had nothing in common, and she was closer to her roommates in New York. Sometimes she ran into her high school friends when she went out with her mother, and she was always surprised by how little their lives had changed. They had married the people they had dated, or were living with them. A few had children now. Some worked for their parents, or at unexciting jobs. It was a small city, and other than the high-tech world of Silicon Valley, there were very few interesting opportunities. Her more enterprising friends had moved to New York and L.A. And there was no fashion milieu to speak of, so there would have been no jobs for her. She was glad she had gone to design school in New York, and stayed. And even though she missed her, her mother was pleased that she had opted for a life in New York. Her father never understood why she didn’t move back to San Francisco and find something to do there. She no longer tried to explain.

Abby and Claire chatted on the way to the airport. They had hardly talked since her breakup with Ivan. She had been plunged in her writing night and day. It was as though freeing herself had fueled her, and she had a lot to talk about with her parents. They had always given her good advice in the past, and she needed to decide where to go from here. All she wanted was to finish her novel. It was going well.

Ivan had called a few times to make weak excuses for his behavior, and told her he was all alone. She stopped taking his calls, and he gave up calling quickly when he realized she wasn’t sympathetic to his cause and hadn’t changed her mind. He wanted her to feel sorry for him, but she didn’t. She was just angry at herself for the time she had wasted, and for being such a fool. It had taken her years to realize what a loser he was, while he pulled her into the swamp with him, and used her in every way he could, and she had let him.

“See you on Sunday,” Claire said as they hugged each other outside the terminal. Claire was going to check her bag at the curb, and Abby only had carry-on. Claire always took too much with her. And Abby disappeared into the terminal a minute later. Claire glanced at her phone while she checked her bags. George hadn’t called her yet, so they probably hadn’t landed. She hoped the weather was decent. George had told her that the airport was dicey in Aspen, coming in over the mountain for a sharp landing, but she wasn’t worried about it. His pilot had been there with him many times before.