Fortune Is a Woman (4 page)

Lydia rose looking pale, Paula’s henchman again. “Okay, Paula. Anything else?”

“That’s all. See you at the board meeting Friday.”

(Board meeting?)

“Did you forget?”

She had. “No, no, I remembered. See you Friday.”

_____

Shunned. Why, she didn’t exactly know. Venus was now working for VP Kendle, a leering blue-hair who talked with a lisp and bathed in cologne. The office reeked of it and she was sure she did, too. Never mind. It’s more money and includes travel.

She had forced herself to accept the reality that her crush on VP Beaumont would go nowhere and had allowed herself instead to be swept up with Sebastion Jones, whom she had met at Frank’s Place weeks ago. Her divorce was pending, Michael had left the apartment and she was glad not to have to sleep alone all the time.

Actually she enjoyed Sebastion’s company. He was smooth and sexy and there was something about the man that inspired images of a pirate for her. He was very much a pirate in bed. A fine specimen.

Mama like him. Jasmine liked him. Even her father seemed pleased with the match.

No word from Lydia, though. That was cold. Venus had run into her only twice since being reassigned and both times the woman had acted shy and aloof. She had considered confronting her about the transfer, but couldn’t think of how to do it and in the end decided against it. Forget confrontations. Forget about it. She had scaled every obstacle life had thrown in her path. This was nothing compared to living in the hood or feeling isolated at the Ivy League. Pale in comparison. Except that she never ached so deeply about those things.

_____

“How’s Venus? You haven’t mentioned her in awhile.”

Lydia tried to dodge the inquiry. “Good,” she mumbled into the sheets.

“Good
? What on earth does that mean? It’s so illiterate sounding.”

“I transferred her, Helaine.”

“Transferred? What for? Why?”

Lydia rolled over and sat up.

“Lydia Beaumont. You answer me. You wanted to get rid of her?”

“Helaine, we…I transferred her. People get transferred at the firm all the time.”

“Well, that’s just bullshit, Lydia. What do you think I am? A dumb blond? Why would you transfer your top girl? Look at me. Why?”

They locked eyes. Lydia went for her robe. Helaine went for hers.

“Hiding her somewhere is not a resolution, Lydia. Believe me. I’m the expert here. That will only make it worse.”

“What are you talking about? Why do you care?”

“You know what I’m talking about and I care because Venus is a fine young woman and she doesn’t deserve this–this–Treadwell treachery.”

Lydia flinched. “There were rumors and speculation. I didn’t want you to–”

“I already heard them, Lydia! It was not a problem.
This
will make it a problem. You will miss each other. Long for each–”

“Helaine!”

Helaine stood quietly now, grasping her robe.

Lydia spoke calmly. “It’s done. It can’t be undone. Venus seems fine with it.”

Helaine sat on the edge of the bed. “And you? You miss her terribly, don’t you?”

Lydia sat beside her. “Helaine, really. I’m fine with it. You’re the only one I could ever miss like that and you know it.”

_____

“Well, you’re a fool, Kristenson. You want those ladies together?”

“Treadwell, I can’t abide by this solution. It will have an opposite effect, I can assure you. I’ve seen it happen before.”

“It’s done, Kristenson. Beaumont’s happy with her new assistant. The end.”

“If she’s so happy with him, why doesn’t she say so?”

“What–she discusses everything with you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

_____

“Beaumont, tell your blond bomb how happy you are with your new assistant. That’s an order.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and laughed. Cocktail party at the Treadwell’s. She felt a little tipsy tonight. “Why should I do that? I despise his incompetent, lazy ass.”

“You told her that?”

“No. I thought it better to say nothing at all. What’s this about anyway?”

“Kindly tell her how happy everybody is with the arrangement and get her off my ass.”

“Hah! I’ll try that, Paula. I’m sure it’ll make a big difference coming from me.”

“Good–are you drunk?”

“I am.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk, Beaumont. Where is Helaine tonight?”

“She didn’t want to come, Paula. She loathes us. Our stunning lack of decency and ethics and loyalty and honesty and integrity and–”

“Ugh. Well, see what you can do. I’d better get you some coffee.”

_____

“Kristenson, why is this so important to you?”

“A number of reasons, not the least of which is that I don’t want you meddling in my personal affairs or complicating them.”

“And I don’t want you meddling in the corporation’s affairs. So you can see how we are at cross purposes here.”

“Treadwell, you say you did this for my benefit, therefore it is my business.”

“What is it about me you don’t like, Kristenson? I bend over backwards to please you.”

“I have a client due in five minutes. That isn’t enough time to tell you.”

“Oh, come on, Helaine. What do you actually like about me then?”

“Well, that I have time for since the list is so short.”

“Yes? Go on?”

“Paula, I like that you’re indomitable. Fishing for compliments this afternoon? That must mean you have some guilt over the matter.”

“What is done is done and it can’t be undone. Good day, Dr. Kristenson. I like that you’re indomitable, too. Sometimes.” (click)

Feared, Hated, Despised and Loved

Lydia Beaumont wore a platinum band on her wedding finger. So did Helaine Kristenson. They probably never took them off. Venus had despised her wedding band and was not too eager to wear one again, although Sebastion, who had never been married before, frequently dropped hints that he’d like to try it one day. They had known each other only a few months. It seemed so premature. Besides, she hated the subject.

She should make a decision soon though, she feared. Considering the possibility that she might be pregnant.

Her parents inquired about her plans. Her sister inquired about her plans. Even Paula Treadwell, happy to learn of a Sebastion in Venus’ life, inquired about her plans. The ever elusive Lydia Beaumont, however, did not.

Venus concentrated on her new job, which she was beginning to enjoy. If she ever re-married, she decided, she wanted a platinum wedding ring. That might make it more doable.

Happily the pregnancy test came back negative.

Secretaries, Princes and Fortresses

He was an “Entertainment Consultant.” Whatever that was. Venus had investigated his claim, found his company publicly rated and traded and concluded that what she knew about Sebastion Jones, the prince of pirates, was adequate enough to allow him to move in with her in the exclusive high-rise apartment that she had once shared with her husband.

Sebastion was “Assistant to the Chairman.” This probably explained his unusual hours.

Venus was “Assistant to the Vice President of Overseas Operations.” That definitely explained her long absences.

It was an ideal union. Venus and Sebastion rarely saw each other.

All that combined to also explain why she rarely saw VP Beaumont either, even if their offices were only two floors apart and their homes only three blocks away from each other.

But absence makes the heart grow fonder, they do say. And, in tricky times, it is better to be impetuous than cautious.

_____

“I miss you---V.”

Lydia read and then reread the note before folding it several times and putting it in her breast pocket. She missed her former assistant terribly. She was irreplaceable.

_____

“I miss you---V.”

Helaine read and reread the note before folding it the way she had found it and putting it back in Lydia’s breast pocket. She slipped the coat on a hanger in the closet and said absolutely nothing about it. In the morning she checked the coat pocket again. The note was not there. Nor was it to be found in any of the trash receptacles.

Lydia was turning forty-two this year. Months away, she had already informed Helaine that she wanted a quiet celebration. Just the two of them. Just the two of them and one mid-life crisis. Or at least the early manifestations of one.

The woman was preoccupied nearly all the time now with her alleged signs of aging and, as far as Dr. Kristenson could tell, it was the injured knee, long since healed, that had set things off. After that, there was a host of other minor ailments that had begun to stress Lydia. The strands of gray hair–which Helaine didn’t have the heart to say had been there since she had known her. The shortness of breath–after running six miles. Perceived weakness in one or both of her biceps–after weight training. Changes in her complexion…the note troubled Dr. Kristenson.

Helaine was four years older than her mate, but she didn’t mind the idea of growing old with Lydia Beaumont. She didn’t lose sleep over accumulating grays, or, for that matter, the wrinkles that bunched near her eyes. They were laugh lines, not ones from sorrow or worry. As to aches and pains, these she experienced, too. And recently she had even missed a few periods. These were merely gentle nudges to Helaine, the body keeping her psyche apprised of what time it actually was on the biological clock. Yes, she was aging, but she felt much younger than forty-six and most times she knew she looked younger than forty-six. Unless she thought of Venus.

_____

“Lana?”

“Uh-oh. What time is it?”

“One o’clock. I nee–can you get out early?”

Helaine laughed low and whispered into the receiver. “Lydia, I have a client.”

“After that?”

“Darling, have you forgotten? I’m meeting the Keagans at Cicero’s tonight. I won’t be home till late.”

“Dr. Kristenson…this is a medical emergency.”

Helaine paused. “Hold for me, Lydia. Can you hold?”

“Holding.”

“Jen? What’s the rest of my day look like?”

“Full, unless you get a cancellation. You need a cancellation?”

“I do. I really do.” She heard Jenny laugh. “Jen?”

“Okay, I’ll reschedule the rest of the day for you. Your one o’clock is waiting, though.”

“Thanks, Jen. Ms. Beaumont? Ms. Beaumont, are you there?”

“Well?”

“I’ve scheduled you for a two o’clock office appointment. Earliest I could fit you in.”

“You’re an angel, Lana. How much time does that give us?”

“Ah…how much time do you need?”

“Weeeell, I have a lot of problems.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can fix them. Of course, you’ll have to work with me.”

“Mmmmm. I’ll see you at two o’clock.”

_____

“Your two o’clock is here, Dr. Kristenson. Looking somewhat out of breath, I might add.”

“And lovely?”

“As usual. I am going home to watch my soap, if you have no further need of me.”

“Goodbye, Jen.”

Helaine examined herself in the mirror beside her desk, loosened a button on her blouse and stepped into the adjoining room. “You called, madam?” she asked playfully, before catching the faint scent of a man’s cologne. She faltered for a second. Lydia was waiting on the couch, wearing nothing but the ring on her wedding finger. Helaine caught her breath, shut the door and turned the latch. The bolt dropped dead in the lock.

_____

Up in the clouds, in her mighty fortress at Soloman-Schmitt, President Treadwell had her assistant pour her a martini. She was just congratulating herself on how well things were working out for her and commenting on how smoothly it was all going at last when she got the urgent call from her husband.

Prostate cancer.

Fortresses

“The best fortress is to be found in the love of the people, for although you may have fortresses they will not save you if you are hated…I would therefore praise the one who erects a fortress and the one who does not.”

Lydia and Helaine lived midtown in the penthouse Lydia had owned before she had ever seen the blond sitting alone reading her books in Frank’s Place, long before she had pursued her there. Even during the ensuing fracas, when the two found themselves hopelessly entangled in jilted Sharon Chambers’ lethal web, it was the only truly peaceful place the two women could escape to, so long as the reporters on the ground digging for dirt weren’t aware of their presence up there, which sadly wasn’t often enough.

Dirt, like dust, always settles and when it finally did the ladies began yearning for a permanent residence. Flitting about, fleeing reporters was not a real life. Super-model Sharon Chambers might have enjoyed living like that, but Helaine didn’t and Lydia wasn’t used to it at all.

They searched and searched and searched, but it was hard not to be sentimental about the penthouse and everything else they looked at seemed lackluster in comparison.

High up and away from it all and designed by Lydia to please a goddess, together with the added feature that it was in a very secure building and close to both their jobs, the penthouse was ultimately selected by the newlyweds for their home. Still sparsely furnished at the time that Helaine moved in, she brought with her those accouterments that put the finishing touches on the place and transformed it into what it was today. A castle in the clouds for two.

By contrast, Lydia’s best friend, Delilah Lewiston, had a fancy address in the same neighborhood, but the apartment she lived in was quite modest compared to her means. Home was merely a figure of speech for Delilah and she simply had no great attachment to the place and felt no pressing need for domestic fortification. She ate there sometimes. She bathed there sometimes. She slept there sometimes. Sometimes she even had it cleaned.

Her office, on the other hand, was a different matter altogether. Now this definitely could be regarded as a fortress, and truly, if she had to, she could live there, which she did sometimes. Wet bar, Jacuzzi, the works. She was a well-pampered investment banker who spent a lot of time on the job. Globe International, the bank that she worked for, nay ran, spared no expense to keep her comfortable and happy.