They fell back into the rhythm they found each time, and she felt herself winding tighter under him, felt herself about to explode, and then he stopped moving and put his hand over her mouth. She blinked in confusion.
“Mr. Jamieson?” Mrs. Tate called up the stairs for what was clearly the second time.
Tess’s spurt of laughter was smothered under Nick’s hand. “Yes?” he called back, giving Tess a warning glare that dissolved into a grin.
“Did you find the player piano?”
“Yes,” Nick said. He was trying to keep his voice steady and Tess sympathized, she really did, but he was hard inside her and she couldn’t bear it. She began to move against him, and he closed his eyes.
“Shall I come up and turn it on for you?”
“No,” Nick said. “Thank you, no. I’ll do it.”
Tess peeled his hand from her mouth. “The switch is on the left side of the keyboard,” she breathed in his ear. “And then, if you don’t mind, please, I think I could come if you’d get a move on.” She rocked against him again and her voice broke. “I was really close before you stopped to chat.”
“I have lost my mind,” Nick whispered in her ear. “And it’s your fault. But what the hell.” He reached his arm over the keyboard, fumbling for the switch, and she shuddered as he shifted inside her. Then the piano leapt to life playing the Minute Waltz and Tess laughed out loud and Nick rocked against her until everything came free inside her and all her worries went out into the universe with any other rational thought she might have had.
“That was incredible,” she told him later, when they were curled up in bed together. “That was the best.”
“I knew I should have told Christine to get me knee pads.” Nick winced as he stretched out his legs under the covers. “I’m too damn old for this.”
“Ha,” Tess said, and set about convincing him that he wasn’t.
Chapter Ten
The next day Tess stomped past Pamela the receptionist to poke her head into Gina’s office, meaning to stay only long enough to find out if Gina was still all right and still oblivious to Park’s two-timing. She waved to her, and Gina, listening to somebody on the phone, waved back.
“I’ve only got fifteen minutes until the next bus,” Tess whispered. “I just stopped by to tell you...”
But Gina motioned her in, and Tess gave the next bus up for lost and sat down in the chair across from Gina’s desk.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Edelstein. I’m sure that will be satisfactory,” Gina said in the well-modulated tones of an evening news anchor.
Tess gaped.
“Certainly. I’ll be looking forward to that. Until then.” Gina hung up and turned to Tess. “So what’s new with you?”
“With me? When did you turn into Diane Sawyer?”
“The voice or the suit?” Gina asked, and Tess realized that Gina’s usual black jersey separates were now lipstick red wool-crepe separates.
“My God. What happened to you?” Tess asked, staring at Gina’s clothes.
“I’m taking voice lessons,” Gina said. “I never had a speaking part, so I never needed them before now.”
“And now you’ve got a speaking part?” Tess said grimly. “Like playing Park’s girlfriend?”
“This isn’t Park’s idea,” Gina said. “I was gonna...going to do this, anyway. It’s important in my job. I spend a lotta... lot of time on the phone. I need this.”
“And the suit? That helps you on the phone, too?”
Gina stroked the rich fabric of the sleeve. “Park bought me the suit. He said he liked me in black, but he bet I looked spectacular in red. So we picked it out together. It was so much fun.”
“I bet,” Tess said, consigning Park to the lowest level of hell for trying to stifle his guilt with his checkbook.
“Is it bad that I let him buy it?” Gina asked. “I love this suit. I wanted this suit. It’s not like he’s keeping me.” She stuck out her chin. “And I do look spectacular in red. I don’t know why I didn’t dress in colors before.”
“You look great,” Tess said quietly.
Gina slumped back in her chair. “You don’t think I should have taken the suit.”
“No,” Tess said. “That suit is none of my business. I was just thinking how much Nick would love it if I loved the clothes he bought me the way you love that suit. I didn’t tell you, did I? He did it again. Like that black dress. Only this time he stole my sweats and replaced them with these silk jersey things that slither. I told him not to, and he just patted me and now he keeps on doing it. My jeans are DKNY, my sweaters are all crewneck cashmere Ralph Lauren and my nightgowns are LaPerla.” Tess made a face. “It’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The stuff is beautiful, but it isn’t me. Every time he does it, I tell him not to, and he just laughs and says I looked sexy in the new stuff.”
“So relax and enjoy it,” Gina said.
“Gina, I don’t like the clothes he buys me. I’m not being politically correct. I hate the clothes. Crewnecks make me itch and I like sleeping in old T-shirts. They’re comfortable. And I hate the way the damn house is decorated— it’s like a meat locker with rugs. And I hate the Opera Guild. And I’ve been trying to be a good sport about all of it, but being a good sport is taking up all my time.”
“So? What else have you got to do with your time?”
“Find Lanny,” Tess said, and Gina groaned. “Listen, I’ve been making phone calls right and left and I finally got a great lead. One of Elise’s friends from the commune told me that another of the commune members willed all his papers to the University of Riverbend library, and his papers included an oral history of the commune by different people who lived there in the sixties. I mean, this is a hot lead. I’ve been planning to go over there, but I’ve put it off every night so I could go with Nick to the theater or to dinner with Welch or to the River Clean-up Dinner, or to the Opera Guild open house or some other damn thing.” Tess stared at her friend miserably. “The smartest thing I could do is move out, but then I’m afraid we wouldn’t ever see each other because we’re both so busy and we’d never make love on a piano again.”
“I think I missed a step,” Gina said. “About the piano.”
“That’s another thing that worries me,” Tess slumped down miserably in her chair. “I’m starting to change. For example, I really thought conventional sex would be boring.”
“Conventional sex?”
“You know, in a bedroom at night with the door locked. Missionary position. Lights off.”
“Go on,” Gina said. “I’m trying to follow this. Nick likes the missionary position?”
“Nick likes all the positions, as often as possible. Which is pretty fantastic, when you come to think about it.”
“Good,” Gina said. “What’s the part about the lights off?”
“That was an exaggeration. But he prefers sex in a bed. He’s happier in a bed. He prefers a bed.”
“So do I,” Gina said. “My back doesn’t hurt, and I can roll over and go to sleep without having to move around.”
“Well, that’s the problem,” Tess said. “As much as I hate to admit it, so do I. I mean, the other stuff is exciting, but it doesn’t last as long because of the risk, and I don’t get to touch him as much, and I’m really starting to prefer bedroom sex.”
“This is not a problem.”
“Yes, it is,” Tess said. “I’m getting conventional. I’m losing my edge. I’m changing.”
Gina scowled at her. “Will you stop it? You’re not changing. Now, about this piano. Where exactly was it?”
“The Opera Guild open house.”
Gina sat up straight. “Are you nuts?”
“You know, you sound a lot like Nick.”
“There wasn’t even a door on that room.”
“How do you know?”
“Park took me on my lunch hour yesterday.” Gina slumped back again. “I can’t believe you lured that man onto that piano. He must be crazy abou
t you.”
“Oh.” Tess stopped to consider it. “You’re right. He must be. I hadn’t thought of that. He was just standing there in the doorway looking like Jekyll, and I was afraid, so I—”
“So you tempted him into risky sex to make yourself feel better?” Gina’s voice sounded disbelieving. “Have you any idea what would happen to his career if he got caught doing you on a piano at the Opera Guild open house?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Tess said. “What would happen?”
Gina gave an exasperated moan. “Don’t you pay attention to him? I can’t believe you’re this selfish.”
“What are you talking about?” Tess said, insulted. “Of course, I pay attention to him.”
“Then you’ll have noticed how important his social life is to his career,” Gina said. “You’ll have noticed how often he’s mixing with people and making connections. You’ll have noticed what a great reputation he has in this city.”
“Of course, I’ve noticed,” Tess said. “I’ve spent the past two weeks of my life in that superficial social stuff.”
“It’s superficial to you,” Gina said. “It isn’t to Nick or Park. Or me.”
“What?”
“I said, ‘Or me.’” Gina looked at her defiantly. “I’m sorry. I’ve joined the dark side. Sue me.”
Tess stared at the ceiling, speechless for a moment. “I don’t believe this. How could you?”
“I don’t believe you,” Gina said. “I can’t understand why you’re so bigoted.”
“Bigoted!” Tess said. “Me? I—”
“Listen, if I shaved my head or decided to become a druid or told you I was a transvestite, you’d be there for me, no judgment, no argument. But because I want to join the mainstream, you’re going to bitch at me.”
“Well, no. I’m just—”
“And every conversation from now on will be ‘Gina, are you sure about this?’ and ‘Gina, you’ve been corrupted by wealth,’ and ‘Gina, if you’d just forget about Park and meet a nice guy with values’ and—”
“Look,” Tess said. “It’s just that—”
“It’s just that you don’t respect me enough to respect what I want,” Gina said. “I have to want what you want or it doesn’t count or it’s no good. And so does Nick and so does Park. Well, we don’t want what you want. And I don’t see why we have to. I mean, as long as we respect what you want and let you live your life, why do you care?”
“Because you’re changing,” Tess said. “I watch you when you’re with Park. You’re quieter and you don’t talk as much and you dress—”
“I dress to fit in,” Gina said. “And I’ll tell you something. I like it.”
“But you used to wear those... those...” Tess fumbled for the words. “You know, those dancer things. You were darling and avant-garde and sexy. And now you look... I don’t know. Adult.”
“I dressed like a dancer because I was a dancer,”
Gina said. “Now I want to be an adult so I’m dressing like one. And when Park and I are alone, I talk. We talk all the time.”
“But not in public.” Tess seized on the point. “When you’re out with Park—”
“I never have talked much in public,” Gina said. “I’d rather listen. I’ve always been that way.”
“You have? Then why haven’t I noticed?”
“Because you were always talking,” Gina said. “You talk. I don’t.”
“I still think you’re changing because of Park,” Tess said stubbornly.
“Okay, say you’re right,” Gina said. “So what?”
“Well, that’s wrong. You’ve got to be yourself.”
“I am myself. I’m just trying to be more like someone I care about. I’m adjusting. And why not? He’s adjusting to me. He came over the other night and I made canned ravioli and he liked it. And last weekend I took him to the midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show and he threw toast.”
“Park threw toast?”
“Change doesn’t have to be bad, Tess. People write books about it all the time. Only they call it ‘personal growth.”
“I suppose,” Tess said reluctantly. “I just think I could handle your personal growth better if it wasn’t being inspired by Park.”
“Tess, I love Park.” Tess closed her eyes in pain, but Gina went on. “I know you don’t like him, but I don’t care. You don’t know him. Underneath he’s really sweet and kind and understanding, and I’ve never felt so taken care of in my life, and I want to give him the world and I’m going to, so just butt out.”
Tess swallowed everything she knew about Park and smiled. Tightly. “All right. All right. I’m happy if you’re happy.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Tess lied.
Gina sighed. “Well, then, to tell you the truth, I don’t know if I’m happy or not. Park’s wonderful, and when it’s just us, everything is great, but sooner or later I’m going to have to meet his family, and I don’t think I fit the profile of a Patterson wife.”
“Me, either,” Tess said. “But I’ve met them and I’m faking it. No reason why you can’t, too.” She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, knowing that she should be telling Gina the truth—that there was no way in hell that Park was ever going to introduce her to his family, that she was never going to have to fake it, that Park was two-timing her with a social X ray his father was already calling the mother of his grandchildren. Then she looked at Gina, serene and lovely and glowing, and she thought of Nick telling her to stay out of other people’s lives, and she stifled herself. It might still work. Maybe. Maybe Park would fall in love, find a backbone, defy his father, and marry Gina.
Fat chance.
“Look, is there anything I can do for you here?” Tess asked, desperate to help with something small since she was obviously no help to Gina at all with the big stuff.
Gina looked at her sternly. “Yeah. Don’t get Nick arrested for public indecency on a piano. It’s bad for the firm.”
“Oh, come on, Gina, it’s not that big a deal.”
“You know, you don’t have to change completely in order to stay with Nick. You just have to understand his point of view.”
“He had a very good time on that piano.”
“Forget it,” Gina said. “You’ll never understand. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’d better move out. What with Nick trying to put you on the best-dressed list and you trying to put him in the Guinness Book of Records under Sex in the Dumbest Places, maybe you really are bad for each other.”
Tess felt a chill. “Do you think so?” She bit her lip, feeling more miserable than before.
“If you’re going to make his life hell, yes.”
“So what you’re saying is no more risky sex. What’s the point in living if you can’t take risks?”
“Work. Love. Children.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Then move out,” Gina said. “You’re just leading him on if you don’t.”
“I probably should,” Tess said. “I’ve been there almost a month now. It’s time.”
Gina nodded. “Definitely.”
“It’s not like we’re in love or planning a commitment or anything.”
Gina shook her head. “Of course not.”
“So I really should move out.”
Gina nodded. “Absolutely.”
“I don’t want to,” Tess said.
“I didn’t think you did,” Gina said.
“SO HOW IS LIVING WITH TESS working out?” Park asked Nick at lunch at The Levee the next day.
“Great.” Nick looked at him across the spotless linen warily. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious,” Park seemed distracted as he talked, absentmindedly crumbling a bread roll into dust. “I suppose there’ve been a few changes at your place.”
“A few.” Nick sat back from his empty plate. “But they’re all good changes. Tess’s clothes, for example. She dresses like Annie Hall on welfare, but I’ve been hav
ing Christine buy her new things and she looks great.” He smiled, remembering how good Tess had looked in a midnight blue jersey the night before. “And the next thing that’s going is that damn navy blazer,” he added, his voice thick with satisfaction.
“She’s been sort of...odd at dinner,” Park said. “Quiet. Dignified. Is she sick?”
“No,” Nick said, patient to the end. “She’s trying to help me with my career.”
“Oh.” Park considered Nick’s comment and shrugged. “Well, it’s working. I think the only reason Welch is paying any attention to us at all is Tess. He never takes his eyes off her.”
“I know.” Nick frowned, remembering. “The old goat.”
“What?”
“I know we want the account,” Nick said. “I just don’t like him leering at Tess.”
“He’s not,” Park said.
Nick frowned again. “Sure he is. He—”
“No. I don’t know what it is he sees in Tess, but it’s not sex.”
“Oh?” Nick sat back and surveyed his friend. “And how do you know this?”
“Because he never looks at her body,” Park said. “Face it, most guys are either breast or leg men, and Tess does pretty well in both categories, but he never looks at anything but her face.” He frowned, considering. “It’s like he’s looking for something or waiting for something.”
Nick blinked. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right. What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Park said. “And I don’t care as long as it gets us the account.” He shifted in his chair and started mutilating another roll. “Did I tell you about that new paralegal I interviewed? Very hot. I think I may ask her out.”
Nick folded his arms and stared at Park with exasperation. “Park, what the hell are you doing?”
Park started and dropped his roll. “What?”
“This thing with Corinne at seven and Gina at eleven. And now a new paralegal.” Nick looked at him sternly. “This is not good.”