Claudine (23 page)

The elevator opened into the apartment’s main room. Lights from a nearby building were bright enough that she could make out the humped shapes of furniture, the orientation of the white walls. Reed led her to his bedroom. He flicked on the switch to the en suite. It cast a muted light into the bedroom. She leaned against the king-sized bed while he fumbled in the bathroom cabinet to find a condom. She heard the snap of the foil as he withdrew it. He unzipped his pants and rolled the latex over his penis, yanked her dress up and took her by the hips, turned her around, bent her over the bed. “I want to see you from behind,” he said as he pulled down her panties. He covered her buttocks with soft kisses and inserted his fingers again into her vagina. She felt his tongue on her bottom while his fingers withdrew from her slit and rubbed over her clitoris.

She slipped over the edge. It was a sharp come, short and intense. He pushed his penis into her forcefully. Grabbed her pelvis and moved rapidly, slipped out. He swore. Maria bent her back, tilting her bottom up so he could enter her again. A shotgun series of thrusts and he climaxed. He slumped over her, then pulled out and straightened. She heard him zip up his fly.

“I knew you’d be magnificent,” he said, giving her a pristine peck on the cheek. “Come into the other room. I have something for you.”

With the main room lights on, Maria saw his place was
exactly what she expected it to be. Expensively furnished. Cork floor. Cool, corporate colors. The windows of the old building had been replaced by floor-to-ceiling views. Across one wall hung framed posters of Broadway plays.

Reed went into the kitchen while she stood at the window gazing out at the view of city lights. Sex with him had been a curiously static experience. Her body felt dissatisfied. The orgasm had come and gone, unremembered. Still, getting off had been enjoyable. She had no quarrel with that.

He handed her a glass of wine when he returned. “Chablis. Trust that’s okay with you? It’s chilled.”

“More than okay.”

Reed picked up his glass. “Confession. I’ve been intrigued by you ever since I first saw you in my undergraduate class. I couldn’t do anything about it then, of course—the university frowns on such things—and I was married at the time. You’re an exciting woman, Maria. And I’ve never forgotten you.” He touched the rim of his glass to hers. “Why you haven’t been claimed by some guy, I can’t imagine.”

“Actually, it’s the reverse. It’s me who hasn’t claimed anyone. I’ve had relationships, but I don’t like the thought of being tied down. You could say I’m commitment shy. And there’s a lot I want to achieve before I even consider anything permanent.”

“Well, I’m going to change your mind about that.” He punctuated the statement with an easy laugh as if there was no doubt in his mind that he’d succeed. “I’m glad you’re single. It’s my good luck. Here’s another confession: I’d planned a long, romantic evening to seduce you. Instead, I tripped the wire. I just wanted you so badly.”

She planted a quick kiss on his lips. “And I you.” A moment
of guilt came over her. She hadn’t desired him as badly as she’d wanted Andrei. Not even close. But Reed was a far more logical match.

“Sit over here, lady.” He gestured toward Italian leather banquettes arranged around a block of brushed steel that served as a low table. On it sat a beautifully gift-wrapped box and a tray of hors d’oeuvres from Chenwith, an upscale caterer that sold its delicacies on custom-designed china plates. He handed her the box while he removed cellophane from the plate of food.

She untied the pink bow and carefully peeled back the paper. Inside lay a gold bracelet; one of its links enclosed a diamond. The gem’s facets sparkled with the cold beauty of complete purity, unique to diamonds. “Reed, this is stunning. You must be prescient, giving me a bracelet to match my earrings. I don’t know what to say.”

He leaned over to fasten it onto her wrist. “At first I’d thought of emeralds to match your eyes, but you’re more like a diamond. You steal the show.” His eyes twinkled as he took her earrings out of his pocket. She turned her head left, then right, for him to slip the fastenings into the small holes in her earlobes. “But I can’t take the credit. I managed to wheedle it out of your maid. That those were your favorites.”

“My maid?” Maria’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. A day woman came in to do laundry and cleaning, but she couldn’t imagine how the woman could have connected with Reed.

“Lillian—isn’t that her name?”

“Oh, she isn’t my maid, she’s . . .” Maria caught herself in time. “My stylist. She comes over to do my hair and nails. It’s much more convenient than hopping from one salon to another.”

She quickly moved the conversation onto other topics, told
him what progress she’d made with her writing, and he listened thoughtfully as they finished the bottle of wine and snacked on the food. He made a number of solid suggestions for how she could reorder the major points. As they talked, Maria became even more convinced that she’d been right. She and Reed had something better than a fleeting infatuation. Compatibility. They were on the same level. And if they ended up sharing a future, that would become the glue to hold them together.

“You remember the rehearsal I mentioned? Of the Genet play?” Reed said, finishing the last drop of his wine. “Can you pop into the theater tomorrow afternoon for an hour or so? The director wants to review the optics and staging of one scene; make sure he’s got it right.”

When he saw a protest beginning to form, he put his finger against her lips. “No debate now. I’ll send a car for you. If you come around three, I’ll make it clear you have to be out of there by five.”

“Will it just be us?”

“Us and the director. And those streetwalkers too. I mentioned them before—remember?”

Maria’s face fell.

“You’re okay mingling with a bit of sleaze, aren’t you? I promise they won’t bite.”

T
hey went to bed again. She asked that he keep the lights off, explaining this was the longest she’d stayed up since her injury and exposure to light for too many hours tended to bring on her headache. In truth she feared him noticing the marks on
her breasts. They’d faded now to pale half-moons, but she was worried he’d see them.

It was a good call. He spent a long time on her breasts, nuzzling, sucking and rubbing her nipples between his fingers. “Fucking stunning tits,” he murmured. “Men must go crazy when they see you.”

What was that supposed to mean? Was he referring to former boyfriends or—had he let something slip? She curled around his body, ran her tongue down his stomach. He had a soft belly. She tugged gently at the curls of his pubic hair and licked the length of his penis. Took the crown in her mouth while she used both hands to stroke him. His penis firmed. She slid the condom over him, mouthed his testicles, ran her tongue around them.

He rolled on top of her. Stuck his tongue deep into her mouth and pushed his cock, full force, inside her. She wasn’t ready and it hurt a little. She sucked her finger and used her saliva to ease the slide of her finger into his anus. Grabbed his buttock with her other hand and squeezed. He bucked with pleasure and pumped harder. In the end, she simulated her orgasm. The missionary position never did much for her.

Reed’s penis softened and he pulled out, lay on his back. “An English guy I once knew always described the aftermath of a good screw by saying he was shattered. How apt, eh? You’ve left me in pieces.”

She turned to kiss him on the shoulder. “I’m glad.” She trailed her hand down his stomach. Within five minutes he was sound asleep.

She watched the bedside clock. Waited for twenty minutes until his deep breathing told her he was gone for the night. She
slipped off the bed, taking care not to make a sound. Put on her panties and dress, padded on her bare feet to the living room. She paused to make sure he hadn’t stirred and swooped up her purse. The diamond on her gold bracelet winked in the moonlight streaming through the window. She slid into her shoes and experienced a moment of panic when she thought she might not know how to work the elevator, but a simple push of the button opened the doors. She did not leave a note. In the morning she’d send over a bottle of good Chablis with a card thanking him for a lovely time.

She stepped out of the lobby into the hot dark night. The city still hummed with life. She sauntered for a while up Eighth Avenue. Two guys walked toward her, holding hands. She smiled as they passed by. Love in all its forms—she approved. With the opening of attitudes about same-sex relationships, the enclaves forming the core of the LGBT communities might one day pass into history, but for now, Chelsea was still a gay hangout.

Sex with Reed had not swept her off her feet. Pleasant, yes. Fireworks, no. Then again, she’d experienced more awkward first times with a lover. At least the absurd grip of her encounter with Andrei was starting to fade. She could nurture a relationship with Reed; she might have a future there.

She looked in a darkened restaurant window at her reflection, her figure shaped by her beautiful black dress. Took pride in her long fine legs, slim waist, voluptuous breasts, pouty lips. She was still Claudine. A gorgeous harlot. Free. In control. Nothing yet had been lost.

CHAPTER
25

True to his word, Reed sent a car around to pick her up the next afternoon. he greeted her at the playhouse doors. She loved the theater world, and a surge of anticipation ran through her as the actors—the madam, a professional who Maria recognized from a famous TV series—and Reed’s streetwalkers gathered onstage. The banks of plush seats were empty except for her and Reed, sitting a few rows from the front. A young guy perched behind a video camera to film the scene. The director greeted them with a wave and walked over to sit on a stool to give him a better view of the action.

All the women playing prostitutes looked fit and healthy. In reality, Maria mused, prostitutes in the nineteenth century would have died before they’d reached her age from the curse of syphilis, toxic alcohol or the slow destruction of opium. About halfway into the scene she heard footsteps hustling down the aisle. Maria and Reed both turned to see a thin, bald man hurrying toward
them. “Hell,” Reed said with a frantic look in his eyes. “I didn’t know
he
was coming.”

“Who is it?”

“One of the play’s main backers. Nate’s thrown a shitload of money into this production.” The director looked up from his seat, and his look of abject annoyance transformed to a beaming smile upon recognizing his executive producer. Nate looked from Maria to Reed, and seemed to make a quick mental calculation. “Well, hello, Claudine,” he said brightly. “I see you two got together after all.”

Maria went white. She remembered him; one of her clients from a few months ago. February, to be precise. While she didn’t recall most of her clients, his face stayed with her because he’d booked a session for a threesome on Valentine’s Day—a gift for his lover. She’d had the distinct impression the lover was not pleased.

A sheepish look flitted across Reed’s face and he couldn’t meet her eyes. She leaped up before Reed had a chance to stop her, fuming as she fled up the aisle. He
had
known all along and deliberately played with her feelings just to satisfy his own curiosity.

Reed caught up to her just as she reached the exit and held her arm. He gave her a wry grin instead of an apology. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Believe me, I didn’t think Nate would be here.”

She threw off his arm and pried the door half-open while he tried to hold it shut. “I should have guessed,” she said acidly. “And there you were, so sympathetic about my studies requiring me having to burn the candle at both ends.”

“I wasn’t lying. I was intrigued. I wondered how you balanced
your lives. I wanted to know what it would be like being with you.”

“And you were too cheap to pay for it?” Maria taunted him.

“No. I like you. Don’t misunderstand me. But—why do you do it?”

“It’s a living, same as any other career. And I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“Career?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you call it?”

“Well, fucking boring rich men
is
hard work.”

“Even if they give you diamond bracelets? I woke up last night in an empty bed.”

“You were sleeping peacefully; I didn’t want to disturb you. I had an early . . .”

“An early meeting?” he interrupted. “Off to squeeze some other guy in before dawn?”

Her green eyes widened, incredulous. Reed clutched her arm again and held it firmly. “Hey, it’s cool. I’m sorry, okay? Maria . . . Claudine. I’m not sure what to call you. Look. Maybe it’s just as well. We deceived each other. Now we don’t have to hide anything. It’s all out in the open. We don’t have to stop seeing each other, do we?”

Maria shook her head. “I should have expected this. Enough people in your circles know me in New York. I’m not obligated to tell you anything about my private life.” Her voice was ice-cold. She yanked her arm away and shifted her bag over her shoulder. “And as to deception, well, I rather like it. It earns me a hell of a good living.”

She left him standing at the theater entrance and blew down the street without looking back.

CHAPTER
26

Lillian shook her head the next morning when Maria told her about the exchange with Reed. “I was beginning to turn a corner on him. He was nice on the phone with me.”

“He is nice. That’s not the point.”

“Let me make a prediction: it won’t matter. You will hear from him again soon.”

“I don’t think so, Lil. Despite all his artsy, progressive ways, he’s a prude at heart. He wanted a mad night or two of sex. He was curious about what it would be like sleeping with a high-class prostitute. Men like Reed don’t bring that kind of woman home to Mom.”

Maria knelt on the dressing room floor, sorting through her shoes, trying to decide which ones to bring for her next three assignments in mid-June. London again, Lyon and Monaco. Her cell rang.

“Hello?”

Trainor was on the line. “Maria Lantos?”

“It’s me.”

“I’m giving you a call because there’s some good news and I wanted to reach you before it hits the media. I believe Baranov told you we had a suspect? We’ve charged Charles Hock with first-degree homicide in the death of the Romanian prostitute. While he didn’t admit to harassing you, or the theft of your ID, we’re confident about his involvement. I expect he’ll tip to that eventually.”