Nightlife (9 page)

This was the kind of place she had imagined. It was a sign of her magic that she had made it here. While she was still in her stuffy little apartment off Topanga Canyon she had only conceived a sense of how she wanted to feel, and what sort of place would make her feel that way, then moved toward it. She kept going until she found herself in the rooftop bar.

On the way to the ladies’ room, Nancy studied the other women she could see standing near the long curved bar and sitting at the tables. They all seemed young, thin, and attractive. A few of them wore skirts or pantsuits, but most of them wore tight jeans and tank tops. Nancy felt reassured. At the moment when the urge had taken her she had been wearing a good pair of pants she had bought in Aspen and a Juicy Couture velour jacket over a little T-shirt she had picked up in San Francisco, so she was all right.

She studied her reflection in the mirror, brushed her hair, and wiped off her makeup. She had been wearing daytime shades, so she put on thicker eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara, darkened her lips as she listened to the chatter in the ladies’ room. She could tell that these were not women staying at the hotel but local women who came here for the social scene. That was fine—so had she.

Nancy needed to set herself apart somehow, and be in a place where she didn’t have to compete for attention with all of these women. She went to the bar and waited for a couple of orders to be filled so she could survey the room to evaluate the men and let them see her, then ordered her martini. When she had it, she took it outside, onto the big open stretch of blue Astroturf surrounding the pool.

She sat on one of the white lounge chairs and gazed down the slope at the city, the billions of tiny distinct lights shining upward from the streets and buildings to make the air above the city glow.

The first man to follow her out had long, skinny limbs covered in an off-white suit and a black T-shirt. He had glasses with thick black frames, and hair that had receded into a widow’s peak. She glanced up at him and sipped her drink.

“Aren’t you the girl from behind the front desk?”

“No,” said Nancy. “She’s still there. Go check.”

“I mean the one who pretends to be asleep. The naked one.”

“I know you do,” said Nancy.

“The girl from last night looked just like you. She’s beautiful, and so are you.” He paused for a moment, studied her, and then said, “You and I aren’t going to be friends, are we?”

“Nope. Thanks for the compliment, though.”

“You’re welcome. Good night,” he said. He turned and walked back into the bar.

After ten more minutes, another man came out. He walked to the pool, bent over and touched his hand to the water to test the temperature, then straightened, turned, and seemed to notice her. He was dark-skinned, with wavy black hair, and she imagined him to be Brazilian. When he spoke, the impression was destroyed. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t see you there.” He had an accent from New York, maybe New Jersey. “Have you been in the pool yet?”

“No,” she said. She made a quick decision. “I just came out here to be alone.”

“Me too. Would you like to be alone together?”

“No, I like to do it the usual way.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well, see you.”

He walked back into the bar. This wasn’t very promising, she decided, so she went back into the bar too. She moved to the wall, scanned the men in the room, and decided to choose one. He was standing a few feet to her right, looking over at her, when their eyes met. He was about thirty, with hair that must have been blond when he was a child but had turned brown later as hers had, and now lightened only when he had spent time in the sun. “Hello,” she said. “Do I have spinach stuck on my teeth?”

He came closer. “Sorry if I was staring. What’s the attraction out there?”

“It’s really clear tonight. It’s L.A., and you expect some smog.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Otherwise you feel like you’re not getting your money’s worth.”

“They might have flown you to Bakersfield, and just told you it was L.A.”

“There’s smog there too. And when it clears, you’re still in Bakersfield.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it. Or somebody’s.”

He took a step closer and leaned against the wall beside her. “Are you here on business?”

“Me?” she said. “No. I’m here for a cold martini.”

“I can see you got one,” he said. He lifted his drink toward her, a faint gesture to simulate clinking glasses. “Here’s to it.” He took a sip. “What I was trying to say was, you’re a gorgeous person, and are you busy for the next few days doing work-related tasks all the time, or are you interested in meeting someone like me, getting married, and bearing my children?”

She made a show of appraising him, looking from his toes to his face and down again. Then she shrugged. “It depends. Where would I have to live?”

“We could live anywhere you want. Right now, I’m based in Miami. But it’s negotiable.”

“Based? What are you? A navy?”

“No. I just sell sound-imaging machines to doctors and hospitals, and that’s where the office is. I’m Brian Corey.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Marsha.”

“No last name?”

“Corey. I’m going to be Marsha Corey, right?”

“True,” said Brian. “Will you join me at a table, or do we have to keep our distance until after the wedding?”

“Now that we’re engaged, you’re welcome to sit with me, if you’d like.”

They stepped to a small empty table nearby. He moved a chair so he could sit beside her and look out over the city. “I hate to descend to this kind of question, but where are you from?”

“I live here now.”

“At this hotel?”

“No, this is just where my martinis live. I recently moved to Los Angeles. I used to live in Chicago.”

“Why did you move here?”

“Because I was cold. There are a lot of songs about Chicago. But is there one that says you’ll freeze your ass off? No.”

“Oh, I thought you might have come here to be an actress.”

“You mean you think I might be stupid.”

“I can only hope. But you are beautiful, and you did move to Los Angeles, so it was a possibility.”

“Are you disappointed that I’m not an actress?”

“No. I don’t think that kind of career would leave enough time for me and the children.”

“Very smart of you to think ahead.”

“Ah, yes. Thinking ahead. Have you got plans for dinner yet?”

“Gee, we’re barely engaged, and already you want me to cook.”

“No, I was going to take you to dinner, if you’re willing.”

“After the kids and moving to Miami, dinner seems pretty easy. I’m willing.”

“We can drive out to La Parapluie, which is in Beverly Hills, where I happen to have a reservation for dinner in about a half hour. Or we can have another drink first, and take our chances that by the time we get there it will be so late that we won’t need a reservation.”

“A quandary. My drink is dead, but since you mentioned dinner, I’m beginning to get hungry.”

“Let’s try to have it all. We’ll go down to La Parapluie, and order drinks at dinner.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

Brian Corey had rented a car to make his sales calls, and the valet parking attendant brought it. He was an experienced driver who knew enough to get off Sunset right away, and they were in La Parapluie within ten minutes. It was a large, noisy room with lots of white walls and linen and some bright mediocre minimalist paintings, but the waiter brought Nancy a martini with a tiny iced carafe of vodka on the side, so she forgave the restaurant its decor.

While they were sipping their drinks, Brian said, “I’ve been thinking about this since I met you, so I’ve got to say it: you really are beautiful.”

“Thank you. I was rather pleased when I got you into the light, myself. I guess it’s a marriage made in heaven. What do you like on this menu?”

“I’ve only been here one time, but I had the swordfish, and it was good.”

“I’ll try it, then.”

“Anything you’d like. For tonight, you’re the queen of my expense account.”

“I’ll have to tell you up front I’m not going to buy an ultrasound machine.”

“Then I hope you’re willing to pretend to choke on a fish bone, so all the doctors in the place will rush to help, and I can deliver my pitch.”

“Of course. If we want the children to go to Harvard, I’ll have to do that every time we go out.”

They ate dinner, and talked happy nonsense all through it. Nancy Mills was filled with manic energy. She felt that she should never have talked herself into believing that she had to stay out of sight.

After dinner they tried to move into the bar, but it was nearly midnight now, and the crowds of people in the restaurant had swelled. The knot of drinkers ordering at the bar was just the beginning of a line that stretched outward and made it an evening’s labor to get another drink. Brian leaned close to her and said, “I’ve got a minibar in my room, and a better view than this. It’s on the eighth floor of the Beverly Hilton.”

She looked at him closely. “All right. Let’s go check out your bar.”

They drove to the Beverly Hilton and took the elevator up to his room. It was not the huge suite she had been hoping for, but it was a pleasant single room, and it had a balcony that was directly above the patio and a little to the left of the pool. He made her another martini while she leaned over the railing for a different view of the city.

She took her martini and sipped it. “Thanks, Brian. Considering the primitive conditions, that is not a bad drink.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ve found that I’m about as good a maker of third martinis as anybody.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “It probably tastes like lighter fluid, and I don’t know the difference. I guess I shouldn’t drink so much.” She walked past him into the room and set her drink on the desk.

The whole evening’s adventure had been leading to this, hadn’t it? She had sleepwalked her way here. She was with the right kind of man: she had chosen him. She stepped into him, snaking her arms around his body. He held her and kissed her gently. She remembered how much she liked this feeling.

His arms were thick and strong, and she could detect the definition of the muscles, but she could also feel his hands making soft, slow swirls on her back that made her feel small and sleek, like a cat. The nerves of her spine and shoulder blades shivered, waiting their turn to be touched, and she found herself moving to make him touch her there.

The kisses and caresses grew in intensity, building quickly with her impatience. She was excited by the rightness of whatever she thought to do tonight. Her impulses all seemed to be gratified instantly. Later she lay on the bed with the blankets tumbled in a heap at the foot, feeling the fresh night air blowing in over her body, cooling and soothing her. She stared at the ceiling, feeling her breathing slowing down and becoming even again.

Brian was out on the balcony, leaning on the rail and craning his neck to look down at something. He still had no shirt, but he had put on his pants in order to go out there. She studied him, gauged the attitude of his body. He was leaning on his elbows, a picture of relaxation and ease. Minutes passed. It was time now for him to come back in and lie down beside her and say nice things to her, or at least put his arm around her again, but he didn’t. He didn’t even turn and look at her, to see how beautiful she looked lying on the white sheets, her hair spread around her head in a halo. She began to be a little disappointed in him.

She gave him a reprieve. Was it possible that while she was lying here sending him a signal, she was missing the signals that he had been sending her? Maybe he wanted her to get up and come out on the balcony with him.

Nancy slipped into the bathroom and snatched the thick white hotel bathrobe from its hook behind the door. She tied the belt at her waist and came out behind him. He didn’t seem to hear her coming. She put her arms around him and pressed herself against his back, rocking slightly from side to side. “That was really nice,” she whispered.

He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Yes.”

She felt her muscles tighten. “That’s all? You don’t want to say something sweet to me?”

He turned, and that disengaged her arms from him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her there while he looked into her eyes, then kissed her forehead. “I loved this evening. I think you’re a really special person, and I feel lucky to have met you.”

“But?”

“I should have told you before. I have a girlfriend back in Miami. She and I have been together for over two years.”

Nancy shrugged, knowing it made her look good and that the top of the bathrobe would open a bit wider. “I’m really not that naive, Brian. I knew when I saw you that I wasn’t the first girl you’d ever met, and it’s not like I thought that other girls wouldn’t be interested in you.”

“I really haven’t been honest with you, or with her. I loved tonight, but I didn’t really have the right to be with you. I was standing here thinking how unfair I’ve been.”

She embraced him tightly. “I understand. This was just a one-time thing. It was only for tonight, and when it’s over, that’s it. But why ruin it? What if this turned out to be the last night of your life?”

“That’s a funny way to look at it.”

She smiled up at him, and she knew she was alluring. “It’s the only way to look at it. If it was the end of your life, how would you want to have spent it—alone or with me, the way you are?”

“With you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Then smile.”

He gave her the smile she had asked for, and took her in his arms. They moved off the balcony and into the room. It was a moment before the bathrobe dropped to the floor and they were together on the bed again. This time there was something better than the eagerness and haste of the first. She imagined them to be a pair of lovers who had become old friends, and somehow had learned to enjoy each other without all the pain and hurt feelings and failed attempts to connect that people had when they were actively in love. She moved into a cycle of pure selfish wanting and receiving and appreciating and wanting. Then she lay motionless on the bed again.