Riverside Park (15 page)

She batted the apology out of the air with a flick of her hand. “Apology accepted. It never happened.” She smiled. “I recommend the salmon, if you like salmon.”

He did like salmon and sipped on an icy Beck's while he waited for it, thanking God he hadn't done anything with Celia—particularly now, when there was a chance of sorting this financial mess out.

Maybe it would be a happy Christmas after all.

CASSY LOOKED AT
her watch. She'd been waiting for Emma Goldblum at Thatcher, Wyndam & Lamont for one hour and fifty-five minutes. She turned the page of the magazine she was not reading.

 

The whole country had seemed fascinated by Georgiana Hamilton-Ayres' gal pal relationship with Alexandra, particularly since the tabloids continued to link Georgiana romantically with whatever male costar she was working with. Cassy tried to shut it all out except in the narrow line of view as network president.

Work went on as usual for several months and then Alexandra dropped a bombshell. “The first thing is, I'm absolutely fine. I received a complete clean bill of health this morning.”

Cassy had covered her stomach, the lurch in it had been so strong.

“I had a small cancerous tumor in my right breast. I had a lumpectomy and I just finished six weeks of radiation. I've come to tell you this because I would like to go public about it now, promoting awareness that, yes, indeed, women under forty do get breast cancer. And the trick is still early detection.”

They had worked together so closely and for so long Langley did not think it was unusual that Cassy had started to cry, wiping her eyes, saying how happy she was that they had caught it in time. Langley simply gave Cassy his handkerchief and went over to give Alexandra a tremendous hug, which for him was tantamount to crying.

Once Alexandra accompanied Cassy down the hall to Cassy's office, however, Cassy had closed the door and lost it, railing at Alexandra how dare she suffer a life-challenging illness and not tell her.

“It was easier for me to cope if I didn't,” Alexandra said. “Georgiana doesn't even know.”

Cassy had stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“It seemed like a good time for us to have a little time apart anyway. Sally was keeping an eye on me. If something had gone wrong, she would have told you.”

“
Sally
?” Cassy very nearly shouted. “You told Sally Harrington and you didn't tell me?”

Alexandra nodded. “I'm very grateful to her.”

“And I'm going to wring her neck,” Cassy said, walking around her desk to sit down. She slipped on a pair of reading glasses, pulled a legal pad closer and picked up a pen. “All right. So we'll talk to Eric about a press conference. When do you—” She stopped and took off her glasses, trying to think. “Are you well enough to go to the West Coast for any of the Mafia Boss Murder Trial?”

“Oh, yes,” Alexandra assured her.

Cassy was on the verge of asking about her separation from Georgiana but didn't. It was just as well since within two weeks Cassy learned from Sally Harrington that Alexandra was back with Georgiana. Probably for keeps.

 

The receptionist at Thatcher, Wyndam & Lamont had taken her coat out of the closet and was putting it on. “Do you want me to check again before I leave to see how they're coming along?”

“I'd appreciate it, thank you,” Cassy said. “I need to let our driver know.”

 

All Cassy had required to know something was up was to see Alexandra, Georgiana and Alexandra's brother, David, leaving West End together. And when David said later he just felt like coming East for a visit with his sister (never in David's life, Cassy knew, had he taken such a whimsical detour from his work) somehow Cassy had guessed what might be going on, and she had been proven correct.

“When are you planning to tell DBS about the baby?” Cassy said to Alexandra when the men, Langley and Will, dropped behind them as they walked down Park Avenue. They were attending a memorial service at St. Bart's for a reporter who had worked at their local affiliate here in New York.

“When there is one, I should think,” Alexandra smoothly answered.

“I assume one is coming that will look a lot like a Waring.”

“That's the plan,” Alexandra said, glancing over as they started up the stairs. “As of a week ago, at any rate.”

The world had started to spin for Cassy in that moment but
she had continued on, as she always continued on, numbly taking her place in the pew reserved for them. She saw Alexandra get up to speak about the reporter but Cassy did not comprehend much of what she was saying because it was sinking in, really sinking in, that there would be no going back, that she had lost Alexandra once and for all.

Alexandra had only given her a decade to get her act together.

The thought of merely working around her was dismal and Cassy had examined her options.

“We both know you won't leave DBS in the next five years,” the chairman of a group of cable networks told Cassy. “It's still learning how to walk, it needs its mother. So I don't even know why I'm bothering to talk to you about this job.”

“You don't want to leave DBS for us,” the CEO of one of the Big Three said to her. “You've got freedom, profits and fun at DBS, where we're experiencing something akin to the fall of the Roman Empire. It's no fun, Cassy.”

“For crying out loud, Cassy,” her old boss at WST said, “you
are
DBS. You've got the same problem Dr. Frankenstein had. The creature only seems to respond to you and the whole village is trying to kill it. There's no way DBS can survive without you right now. You'll never be able to live with yourself.”

“Geez, Louise, Cass,” Jackson said one evening, coming out of his dressing room while using his electric razor before they left for the theater, “where are all of these rumors about you leaving DBS coming from?”

 

“Attorney Thatcher says Mrs. Goldblum will be out in five minutes,” the receptionist reported, bringing her back to the present.

“Thank you.” Cassy called the driver to relay this information and leaned over to pick up an issue of
Kiplinger's
.

Not long ago her accountant had announced she was officially rich and didn't have to work another day of her life if she didn't want to. When Cassy asked him what she would do with her time he suggested gardening and perhaps golf.

 

Cassy and Jackson were awakened at almost one o'clock in the morning by the telephone. Cassy's heart skipped a beat as it always did when they got a call at that hour. Had something happened to Henry? Her mother? Was Lydia on the loose? Kevin? She had moved over in the bed closer to him as Jackson rolled over to pick up the phone. “Darenbrook.”

She held her breath, resting a hand on Jack's shoulder. “She is?” He turned to Cassy. “Alexandra's downstairs.”

She froze a second. “It must be something important.”

“Yeah, send her up.” He hung up the phone, turned on the light and swung his feet out of bed.

Cassy was already standing and putting on her robe. “Go back to sleep, Jack.”

“How can I go back to sleep when I know the whole world's probably blown up,” he grumbled, thumbing the waist of his boxer shorts as he walked to the bathroom. “That's the only reason why she'd turn up at this hour.”

Cassy was standing in the doorway when the elevator arrived and Alexandra emerged looking pale and utterly wrung out. She was still in her studio clothes and her makeup was a mess. “Is Jackson here?”

Cassy nodded, stepping back to hold the door open for her to come in.

“Oh, God, forget it,” Alexandra said, turning back to the elevator.

Cassy moved quickly. “Please. Don't go.”

“What's goin' on, girl?” Jackson said, his looming figure filling the doorway. He was tying the belt of his robe.

“The world at large I believe is safe, Jack,” Cassy said, shielding Alexandra a bit from view. “Alexandra thought I'd still be up.”

Jackson peered around Cassy. “You okay, kid? No, you're not okay. Are you?” The last was said gently. He stepped up next to Cassy. “Is it like a woman thing or—You know, I—” He looked at his wife.

“Why don't you go back to bed, Jack,” she suggested softly.

He nodded, looking over at Alexandra. Then he impulsively went over to touch her arm and kiss her on the forehead. “Anything we can do,” he murmured. “You know. We're here for ya.”

“Thank you,” Alexandra said quietly.

Cassy waited until he left. “Let me get the keys. We'll go next door.” When she came back she unlocked the door of her old apartment and Alexandra went in ahead of her. Cassy turned on the foyer light and followed Alexandra into the kitchen where, a moment later, she found Alexandra leaning over the sink with her eyes closed and her forehead resting on the faucet.

“Can I get you some water?”

“I just told Georgiana I can't do it,” Alexandra said. “I told her I could not be responsible for bringing a child into this world when I knew in my heart we wouldn't last.”

Cassy pulled a stool out from the breakfast bar and slowly sat down.

Alexandra straightened up, turned on the water and washed her face with her hands. Cassy got up to get her some paper towels. Alexandra finished splashing water over her face, drank
a few handfuls and then dropped her head down in the sink. “God, I wish I was in Kansas,” she said. “I could take my pillow and blanket and go outside in the moonlight and hide in the cornfield, because then I could sleep knowing nobody could find me. Except maybe a fox.” She took a deep breath and stood up, reaching for the paper towels. “Thank you.”

Cassy retrieved two glasses from the cabinet and filled them with water while Alexandra sat down at the breakfast bar. “Everyone gets scared about becoming a parent,” Cassy said, handing her a glass.

“It's not about being a parent.” She drank down half of the water and put the glass down. “It's about trying to force myself into a commitment I don't want to make.”

Cassy nodded slightly, sipping her water. “You've got a lot going on, and are under a lot of pressure—”

“Cassy,” Alexandra said sharply. “Please.” She blinked. “Look at me. Do I look like someone who's in love, wants to get married and have a child? Or do I look like the rat I am who never should have gotten involved with Georgiana in the first place, much less lead her on all this time, when I damn well knew it wasn't going to work.”

“Maybe you need some time.”

“Maybe you should just listen to me for a minute,” she said, dropping her eyes.

After a moment, Cassy said, “I'm listening.”

“I don't care if you stay married to Jackson,” she said, her eyes still cast down. “I won't ask you to make changes, to change anything, if you don't want to.” Finally she brought her eyes up. “I'm only asking you to love me, Cassy, and be with me when you can.” Her eyes filled. “I can't—I don't want to go on without you. Do you understand? Whatever I have to do—you tell me, and I will do it. But I've got to have you in my life.”

“This is, um—” She looked at Alexandra, overwhelmed. “This is really—”

“I know,” Alexandra said.

“A part of me has been praying for this moment,” Cassy admitted.

Alexandra didn't move.

“But it's not fair to you.”

“It's not fair for me to pretend I want anyone else,” Alexandra said. “I did it, Cassy. I found the ideal person. I gave it my best—I got everything I wanted.” She swallowed. “But I love you, Cassy. I always will. So I don't care anymore, do you hear me? I'll be with you under whatever conditions you say.” She smiled a little. “You might say that you lost the battle but you won the war.” She swallowed again. “If you still want me.”

“Of course I do,” Cassy said. “And I'll try, as I can, to sort it out—”

In the next moment Alexandra was holding Cassy in her arms. After about an hour, she went home.

They had been, as best they could, together ever since.

 

“Here I am at last, poor girl!” Emma Goldblum said as she came into the waiting room on Attorney Thatcher's arm. She was already bundled up to go outside. “This has been far above and beyond the call of duty.”

“It was rather nice, actually, to have a little time to myself,” Cassy said, standing up. “Did you get your business settled?”

“Most satisfactorily, thank you, dear.”

 

“Are you getting Botox or something?”Jack asked Cassy not long after she and Alexandra had taken up again. Cassy had been finishing her makeup before they attended a clubhouse dinner and Rangers game at Madison Square Garden. “No. Why?”

“'Cause you're looking so gorgeous all of a sudden,” he declared. “I mean you're always gorgeous,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, “but you're just bloomin', girl.” Then he looked at her in the mirror. “Is there something maybe you want to tell me?”

“No.”

She should have known Jack would check up on her. When they arrived home late one night after an opening at the Metropolitan Museum the doorman handed Jack a large manilla envelope that had been dropped off for him. Jack looked at the return address, raised his eyebrows at it and ushered Cassy to the elevator. He smiled at her on the way up, tapping the envelope behind him on the wall. They went into the penthouse and he followed her into the bedroom. “So,” he said, lounging in the doorway of her dressing room, “are you going to tell me who it is or do I have to read this?”