Can't Get Enough (13 page)

BARBARA LOOKED UP from her desk to see Noah standing before her wearing black jeans and a white cotton shirt. He was holding a single lilac-colored rose in his hand.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“Thanks.” He held the flower out toward her, and Barbara thought he looked so sweet. “That’s a happy belated birthday wish and an apology,” he added. “Still friends?”

She smiled as she accepted the rose. “Thank you, Noah. But you don’t need to apologize. We’re fine.”

He shrugged. “I think I stepped over a boundary last time I saw you.”

You certainly did, Barbara thought wryly. She had thought about their tender kiss often since that night a few weeks ago, especially after catching Bradford with Sabrina. Sometimes, just before falling off to sleep, she’d found herself wondering what it would be like to make love to a younger man like Noah.

But to act on those feelings would be monumentally stupid. Their lifestyles were so different, and nothing could ever come of a relationship with Noah except sex. She wasn’t like Bradford. She couldn’t get intimately involved with someone unless she thought there was a possible future in it. Besides, if she got involved with Noah she could lose a friend and a coworker whom she could always count on to help her out.

She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Don’t worry about it. Like you said that night, let’s pretend it never happened.” She held the rose to her nose and inhaled. “Mmm. This was very thoughtful of you. I’m surprised you remembered my birthday. Isn’t this a sterling rose?”

Noah nodded and sat in the chair in front of Barbara’s desk. “They can be tricky to find.”

“They’re very hard to grow, even in our greenhouse. Emilio, my gardener, hasn’t had much luck.”

“Greenhouse, gardener. You lead a charmed life, Barbara.”

Yes, but it wasn’t without its pitfalls, Barbara thought. It came at the price of a philandering husband who barely noticed her much of the time. She eyed Noah sitting in front of her in snug-fitting jeans and felt her stomach tingle.

“Um, how was Jamaica?” she asked.

“Nice. Saw a lot of my relatives. Perfect weather the whole trip.”

She couldn’t count the number of times since she last saw him that she had pictured Noah in swimming trunks on a beach, his chestnut complexion glistening in the sun.

“Good. Have you had a chance to check in with Bernice since you got back?” She needed to change the subject to business and clear her head of all the sensual thoughts of Noah. Get ahold of yourself, girl, she thought.

“That’s what I came in to tell you. She and Bernard are back together.”

Barbara rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

“At least they’re still in the market for a house,” he said. “And since it’s for both of them, they’re willing to spend up to two mil.”

“Fantastic. Does this mean that Bernice has stopped flirting with you?” Barbara said it teasingly, but immediately regretted the remark. It made her sound jealous. Then she realized that she
was
jealous.

He flipped his hand back and forth. “It depends. Unless her husband’s around, it’s the same old thing. That’s just her way.”

Barbara was silent for a moment. She had to stop the jealousy. She had no right to feel that way about Noah. “It’s your call.”

“No worries. I can manage her just fine. We went to Virginia this weekend. She likes Beacon Hill, but the husband thinks that’s too far out. He prefers your neighborhood in North Silver Lake.”

“At least they’re back together, and you still have a client.”

“You mean
we
still have a client. We split the commission on this one. Unless they break up again.” He shook his head. “Strange couple. He cheated on her, right?”

“That’s what she told me.”

“So why does she keep going back to him? I don’t understand it.”

Barbara smiled thinly. She knew the deal with the Wrights all too well. She had the same love-hate, on-and-off thing going on with Bradford. When he was being good, or she at least thought he was, they got along fine. Then out of the blue, another mistress would pop up and their relationship would quickly speed downhill. Like now.

The night she had caught Bradford with Sabrina at B. Smith’s, he came home around midnight. Barbara had been in bed for an hour, tossing and turning, but as soon as she heard Bradford, she switched the lamp off and turned to face away from his side of the bed. She heard his footsteps coming up the stairs and closed her eyes.

“Barbara, are you awake?” he asked softly as he sat on his side of the bed.

She didn’t say a word, didn’t budge. She was in no mood to deal with him.

“Barb, I think we need to talk about what happened this evening.”

She shut her eyes tighter.

“I know you’re awake, Barbara. You’re a very light sleeper. You probably have the wrong impression about what you saw. Will you sit up and talk to me for a minute?”

Her lips tightened.

“Fine. We can talk in the morning when you’ve had some time to come to your senses, but I’m telling you nothing is going on with Sabrina. We talk from time to time, that’s all. If you had calmed down, I could have had her explain that to you.”

There he goes, Barbara thought. Trying to make it seem like she was a jealous fool who needed to calm down and think rationally. Like
she
was the one with the problem. Barbara was sick and tired of this. She had never cheated on Bradford a day in her life, yet he’d had so many affairs she’d lost track of the number.
He
had probably lost track. Sometimes she wondered why Bradford wanted to stay married to her. Why not dump her and be free to fool around as much as he wanted with no wife to worry about?

She opened her eyes but kept her back stiffly toward him. “Bradford, tell me why we shouldn’t just get a divorce. Give me one good reason.”

“A divorce? Don’t be foolish, Barbara. You saw me in a restaurant having dinner with a woman and now you’re talking divorce?”

“Not just
any
woman. A former mistress.”

“Exactly. Key word there, Barbara, ‘former.’ ”

“Are you sure she’s a former mistress? I have a hard time believing that, which is sad in itself. Maybe you’re telling the truth, but I can’t trust you because you’ve lied so many times before.”

“Look, I told you, those days are over. I’m not running around like that anymore. I have no need to lie. If I had something to hide with Sabrina, do you think I would have taken her to B. Smith’s of all places?”

“That’s why you were asking me all those questions this morning. You wanted to be sure the coast was clear for your little rendezvous.”

Bradford let out a big gust of air. “Barbara, you’re imagining things, and I understand why. I haven’t been the most faithful husband in the past. But I’ve changed. Have you seen real signs of anyone else recently?”

“Maybe you’re just doing a better job of hiding them.”

“Or maybe I have nothing to hide.”

She turned onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. “And what about us? We have sex, what? Maybe once every couple of months.”

He loosened his necktie and removed it. “I’m not getting any younger, Barb. Things have slowed down.”

“All the more reason why you shouldn’t try to please more than one woman at a time anymore.”

“Barb, please. There is no one else. Only you.”

She turned back away from him and pulled the sheet up over her shoulders. “I’m tired, Bradford. I’m going to sleep.”

“Fine. ’Cause there’s really nothing more to talk about. I’ve said what I wanted to say.”

Her thought exactly. It was pointless. She was done talking. She was done listening. But she still wasn’t willing to leave him. Why? What the hell was wrong with her? And with Bernice and all the wives who stayed with husbands who cheated compulsively?

“It’s hard to explain,” she said to Noah. “But it’s difficult to leave someone you’ve been with for so long. You have history and memories. You have children together, friends, property. You can’t just walk away from all that the way you can a girlfriend or boyfriend or even a live-in lover. Bernice probably feels that her life with Bernard is better than it would be without him, even with all his faults.”

Noah looked directly into her eyes. “You say that like you’ve been there.”

Barbara arched a brow as Noah rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and cupped his fists under his chin. But she said nothing.

“So why not have some fun of your own?” he asked. “Or do you?”

Barbara blinked. “Some do, and it’s tempting for the rest of us but . . .” Barbara paused. Was she revealing too much to him? No, she didn’t think so. Somehow she felt comfortable sharing this with Noah. She trusted that it would never leave the room, something she didn’t always feel with her girlfriends.

“But what?” he asked. “It seems so unfair not to.”

“It probably looks that way on the outside. But I . . . the women probably feel they’re getting something in return, a certain lifestyle maybe.”

“So it’s about money?”

“Not just money. Security, comfort, status . . . Look,” she said, smiling awkwardly. “Can we change the conversation? I’ve already said more to you than I intended to.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel . . .” He paused as someone knocked at the office door, and Barbara glanced at her watch.

It was nearly twelve-thirty and she remembered that Veronique was supposed to meet her at the office at noon and then they were going to lunch together. Veronique had called Barbara a few days after the episode at B. Smith’s and suggested they do lunch. Barbara was surprised by the call but thought, why not? She had been embarrassed by the scene with Bradford at B. Smith’s but she was also curious about the baroness and especially about her past with Bradford.

“Come in,” Barbara said.

The door opened and Veronique strolled in wearing a tightfitting pair of gold lamé jeans that were obviously not from the Gap and a stylish Chanel tweed jacket unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage. On her feet were a pair of three-inch-high black stilettos.

“Hello, Barbara, I’m sorry to be . . .” Veronique paused and glanced from Barbara to Noah and back to Barbara. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, not at all,” Barbara said as Noah stood and buttoned his sports jacket. “This is Noah Woods, one of my associates here. Noah, this is Baroness Veronique Valentine.”

Veronique extended a hand toward Noah.

“A baroness?” Noah said. He took her hand and kissed it. “Fascinating.”

“Oh, he’s hot, Barbara,” Veronique said, smiling at Noah. “Now I’m hoping that I
did
interrupt something.” She winked at Barbara.

Noah blushed as bright as his chestnut brown complexion would allow. All the women seemed to develop an instant crush on Noah, Barbara thought. First Bernice, now the baroness. But this was the first time she had seen Noah blush around another woman. Veronique walked in and
poof!
Noah was glowing like a schoolboy.

Barbara smiled. “He has quite an effect on all the women.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Veronique said.

“You ladies are going to have to stop this,” Noah said, laughing. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Would you like to join us for lunch, Noah?” Barbara asked as she retrieved her purse from a bottom desk drawer. “You can tell us all about Jamaica.”

“No, thanks,” he said as he glanced at his watch. “I have to meet a client in Silver Spring in about an hour. You two go on and have fun.” He smiled shyly at Veronique. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” Veronique said, extending her hand again. “And I’m very sorry you won’t be joining us.”

Noah bent over and kissed Veronique’s hand again. Barbara noticed that he seemed to like doing that. As he backed out of the office, his eyes never left Veronique, and it seemed to Barbara that he had forgotten she was even in the room.

"SO, TELL ME, Veronique,” Barbara said as she dipped a shrimp into her cocktail sauce. “How did you meet Bradford?” “We met in Atlanta,” Veronique said as she ate a bit of her Beluga caviar. “He and my ex-husband had some business dealings together and . . .”

“Software?”

Veronique nodded. “Guy’s company was much smaller than Bradford’s, and Bradford loaned him the money to expand, quite a sum from what I remember.”

“You said Guy’s company ‘was’ smaller than Bradford’s. He no longer has the company?”

“No.”

Barbara wanted to ask what had happened to her ex-husband’s business, but something about Veronique’s blunt ‘no’ made her hold back. Guy was an ex, so there could be bad blood between the two of them. It wasn’t business that Barbara was concerned about anyway.

“How well did you and Guy know Bradford?”

Veronique put her fork down and dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Barbara, given what I knew about Bradford back then and what happened at B. Smith’s last week, I think I know what all of the questions are about.”

Barbara stiffened.

“And I can assure you that I don’t get involved with married men. I don’t need to bother with them when there are so many single men out there who come without a lot of baggage. I hope you believe that.”

Barbara relaxed. The baroness sounded truthful. Why would Veronique go to the trouble of befriending the wife of a man she’d had an affair with? It didn’t make sense. “Thank you for telling me that, Veronique.”

The baroness nodded. “I want us to be friends and I know we can’t unless you feel you can trust me. Ask me anything you’d like.”

“There is just one other thing. You said, ‘given what you knew about Bradford back then.’ What does that mean?”

“Well, Barbara. Let’s see, how should I put this?”

“You can tell me the truth. I doubt it’s anything I haven’t heard before. And, besides, this was five years ago, right?”

Veronique inhaled. “Yes, but it’s not a pretty picture.”

“With Bradford, it rarely is.”

Veronique nodded with understanding. “He was coming to Atlanta a lot back then. He had a branch office there.”

“Yes. He closed it down a few years ago.”

“Well, when I was in Atlanta, there were rumors that he was seeing several women down there.”

Women? Barbara thought. Plural? She twisted her lips in disgust.

“Two of whom I knew personally, and both were married. So there was at least some truth to the rumors.”

Barbara twirled a shrimp between her fingers. “I see.”

“I’m so sorry,” Veronique said, knitting her brows with concern.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not surprised. Really.” Barbara had always suspected something like that had been going on in Atlanta. Bradford had spent a lot of time traveling back and forth during those years, and it was then that her drinking problem was at its worst.

“Can we please change the subject?” Veronique asked, smiling. “I want to talk about something fun.”

“Of course.”

“Let’s talk about Noah.” Veronique winked.

Barbara was surprised. Was Veronique interested in Noah? “What about him?”

“He’s a real honey, and I saw the way you look at him.”

Barbara waved her hand. “Oh, please. I was going to say the same thing about the way he looked at
you.
”

Veronique laughed. “With me, I think the attraction is mainly the title half the time.”

“Well, Noah and I are just coworkers.” Barbara paused as Veronique gave her a “You can’t fool me, girl, so don’t even try” look.

“I’m serious,” Barbara protested. “Whenever I get clients who want to look at houses in Northern Virginia, he shows them around since I’m not licensed in Virginia and he is.”

“You mean he’s never made a pass at you?” Veronique looked genuinely surprised.

“Um.” Barbara paused. She hadn’t told a soul about “the kiss,” not even Marilyn. It was too private and it was embarrassing that she hadn’t resisted more forcefully. She didn’t know Veronique well at all, but in a way that made it easier to talk to her, and she was dying to tell someone.

“He tried to kiss me once but I shoved him away. He’s only thirty-eight. Compared to me, he’s a schoolboy.”

“The baron is thirty-four, and I have a feeling that I’ve got a few years on you.”

Barbara blinked. It sounded like Veronique was almost old enough to be the baron’s mother.

Veronique tossed her head. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. Europeans are much more sophisticated about these things than we Americans generally are. Age is only a number.”

“You’re right.” Barbara shrugged. “Anyway, I probably scared Noah off.”

Veronique studied Barbara for a moment, then leaned in close. “Would you want him to try again?”

“Are you suggesting that I have an affair with Noah?”

“Well, why not? Have you ever had one?”

Barbara laughed nervously. “Absolutely not.”

“You should. You’re an attractive woman.”

Barbara sighed with annoyance. Not at the comments coming from Veronique, but because she knew it would be difficult to explain why she’d never had an affair to a woman who knew Bradford’s history. “I honestly can’t justify it except to say that I would probably feel guilty.”

“Barbara, forgive me for what I’m about to say. I don’t know what Bradford’s been up to recently, but I do know what he was like in Atlanta. And once a cheater, always a cheater has been my experience.”

Barbara nodded reluctantly. “Still, it’s not just that. Noah and I are so different. The baron may be younger than you are, but you have similar lifestyles, I’m sure. Noah is into blue jeans and baseball caps and hip-hop. I haven’t worn a pair of jeans in twenty years and I’m about to become a grandmother.”

“We’re talking about an affair, darlin’, not marriage. You’re already married. And you still haven’t answered my question. Would you want Noah to make another pass at you? Would you handle it any differently if he did?”

“Would I want . . . Um, well . . . I guess.” The fact that she had admitted it out loud likely surprised Barbara more than it did Veronique. But she had thought of Noah constantly since they kissed. She had hoped her feelings would go away during his vacation, but they hadn’t.

“Yes, yes, I would,” Barbara stated more firmly.

“Then do something about it.”

Barbara leaned in and whispered. “Like what? I’m not the type to make a pass at a man. I wasn’t even before I got married.”

“Oh, I’m with you there. I’m old-fashioned enough to think that the first pass is the man’s job. But women aren’t completely helpless. There are things you can do to let Noah know that, well, you’ve changed your tune about him.”

“Such as?”

“You could start with your wardrobe.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Oddly enough Barbara wasn’t insulted by this woman she barely knew asking her probing questions and criticizing her wardrobe. The baroness always looked so young and fresh without looking childish, and Noah had been captivated by her. Barbara was eager to hear whatever Veronique had to say on the subject.

“Don’t get me wrong, Barbara. You always look wonderful and I love your Fendi bag. But just because you’re almost a grandmother doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look sexy. And congratulations, by the way.”

Barbara smiled. “Thank you.”

“Now, what other designers are you wearing?”

“The suit is Dana Buchman, and the shoes are Ferragamo.”

Veronique smacked her lips. “Ferragamo? Oh, Barbara. Instead of Ferragamo you should be wearing—”

“What’s wrong with Ferragamo for an office shoe?” Barbara interrupted. “I wear the more upper-end designers when I go out someplace special, but—”

“Ferragamo’s just too damn practical, darling. You should be wearing Jimmy Choo or Manolo Blahnik on your feet at all times. Prada, Gucci. And nothing works on a man like a little décolletage. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

Veronique looked Barbara up and down then continued. “Now, that watch you have on is nice, but what is it?”

Barbara held her wrist out. “Um, Ebel.”

Veronique nodded. “One of the more basic models, I’ll bet. A decent watch, but how about an eighteen-karat white gold and diamond Piaget? Something like this.” Veronique extended her wrist gracefully. “I noticed at the party that Bradford wears a very nice Rolex.”

Barbara focused anew at the diamond jewelry flashing on Veronique’s wrist and hands. “It’s lovely, Veronique, but all that’s never really been me.”

“Well it should be. Men love sexy, feminine things on a woman, and Bradford certainly can afford to buy you the best. Frankly, Barbara, after all he’s put you through over the years, you’ve earned whatever you want.”

Barbara sighed deeply. She was beginning to like the idea of spicing up her wardrobe but didn’t have a clue how to begin. “I wouldn’t know where to start looking for those kinds of things or how to pick them out. I’m used to shopping at—”

“Leave it to me, darling. As soon as we’re done here, I’ll have my driver take us to Friendship Heights. We’ll hit Saks-Jandel and a few other shops out there. Maybe even take a drive up to New York one day soon. It’s really very simple, Barbara. A change in your wardrobe and hair . . .”

Barbara shook her head vigorously. “No, I’m not changing my hair.”

“Fine. Just the wardrobe for now. And I’ll give you a few pointers on flirting—subtly of course. Trust me. You’ll have Noah eating out of the palm of your hand in no time at all.”