Impossible (23 page)

She wasn't aware of it at the time, but the same thing had happened to Bernard, when he called her from the gallery in Paris. He had corrected the error of the first name, and they had insisted, and then corrected it themselves to Mr. Allison and Mrs. Boardman, which had stunned him, but he said nothing to Sasha about it until she got home.

It was her first day back, and she was working her way through the mountain of correspondence, files, and slides from aspiring artists that had accumulated on her desk during her three-week absence. It was overwhelming, but the price she had to pay for her trip.

Bernard had stopped in her office for a minute, sat down across the desk from her, and looked at her cautiously, wondering if it was the wrong time to broach it, or if he even should. But he was always concerned about her, like an older brother. He had been trained by her father, just as she was, and had worked for the gallery for more than twenty years. He had started there before she moved back to New York and opened the gallery there. He was ten years older than Sasha, but in an odd way, she had always felt as though they had grown up together, and they had, in the art world.

He sat looking at her across the desk for a long minute, as she glanced at some slides. She had told him all about the artists she'd visited, and the one she particularly liked in Naples. Sasha was enamored with her work, and the artist herself.

“Am I correct in believing that you had an art consultant with you?” He asked gently, and then quickly added, “You don't have to answer me if you don't want to, Sasha. It's none of my business.” She stopped and looked at him thoughtfully, and then nodded.

“How did you know?”

“The hotel in Rome had you registered as Allison Boardman, and when I corrected them, they explained it was Mr. Allison and Mrs. Boardman.”

“The same thing happened when Tatianna called me in Florence, more or less. Fortunately they didn't tell her the last part, about the Mr. and Mrs.”

“Is everything all right?” He looked concerned. He always worried about her, and always had. Ever since Arthur's death, there was no one to take care of her. She took care of everyone else, even him. She was an extraordinary employer and friend, just as her father had been before her. Bernard had deep loyalties to them both, and trusted no one else, except his wife.

“I think everything's fine,” Sasha said calmly, and smiled at him. “It's not what I expected to be doing with my life. And it's a little unusual to say the least.” She was still embarrassed by the difference in their age, and wondered if she always would be.

“I wondered, when he stayed with you for ten days. That's a lot of hospitality to offer anyone, even a good artist. Was that when it started?” He was curious as much as concerned.

“No, that's why he came. It started in January in London, when I went to see his work with Xavier. The same day, in fact. It has started and stopped several times since. I'm not sure what to do about it, to be honest. We're very different, and he's nine years younger than I am, which is awkward. And… what can I say… he's an artist… you know what that's like.” They both did. He laughed as she said it.

“So was Picasso.” Bernard smiled at her. “People put up with him. Liam's a nice boy.” He liked him, and respected his work, although he preferred more traditional painters.

“That's the problem,” Sasha said honestly, relieved to have someone to talk to about it. Bernard was a sensible man, and her friend. “He's young for his age. Sometimes he's a boy, and sometimes he's a man.” She sounded philosophical about it. But they both knew that with a life as complicated as hers, she needed a man, not a child, as her partner.

“We're all children sometimes. My wife still treats me like I'm twelve years old, and I'm fifty-nine. Actually, to be honest, I like it. It makes me feel comfortable and safe, and loved.” He said it honestly as Sasha watched him with pensive eyes.

“I think Liam feels the same way. His mother died when he was seven. I like taking care of the men in my life, of everyone in fact, but I don't want to be a mother to him all the time, and I might have to be. I also don't want to look like his mother, and sometimes I'm afraid I do that too.”

“No, you don't. Nine years isn't much of a difference, Sasha.” He wasn't opposed to the match, and it wasn't his business to be. He was just concerned for her, and he wanted her to be happy. He knew how lonely she had been since Arthur died, and his heart ached for her. There was nothing any of them could do to help her. Maybe Liam could.

“That's true. But it feels like a big age difference with Liam. He hangs out with twenty- and thirty-year-old artists, and I feel a hundred years old when I'm with them.”

“That's a problem,” Bernard admitted, and then sighed. “You don't have to make any big decisions. At least I hope not.” He didn't want her running off and marrying him on an impulse, but he knew Sasha wouldn't do that. She was a wise, sensible, very cautious woman, although the affair with Liam was certainly unusual for her, and showed a side of her he had never suspected.

“Don't worry. I won't do anything hasty. I'm not planning to do anything at all, just enjoy our time together, for as long as it lasts.” She still believed it wouldn't last long, and had no great hopes for the future. Bernard was relieved to hear it. He thought an affair with Liam was fine. A lifetime was something else.

“Do the children know?”

“No, they don't. Tatianna would probably kill me, and I'm not sure how Xavier would feel. He and Liam are good friends. That's hard to predict. I'm in no rush to tell them, and I won't if I don't have to. Who knows where it will go. Our time together has been very erratic. We stopped seeing each other from February to April. We just got back together before this trip, and it was lovely. We'll see what comes next.” She sounded extremely philosophical about it, and not stressed.

“Keep me posted,” Bernard said as he stood up. He was glad he had asked her. It all seemed discreet and sensibly handled to him.

That was all he had wanted to know. And she seemed happy with Liam. “Let me know if there's anything I can do to help.” That was enough for him for now.

“You just did. Just keep it quiet. I'm not planning to tell anyone, at least not until we see how this works for a while.” Bernard agreed. It had helped her to talk to him. She'd been worried that the people in her life would be horrified and fall out of their chairs in shock and disapproval. Bernard seemed perfectly comfortable with it, which made Sasha feel more at ease. She had no intention of telling Eugénie for the moment, or anyone else at the office or elsewhere. Although Eugénie took his calls, when he called the gallery, which was rare. Most of the time he called on her cell phone. And she was not planning to tell her children for a long time. She and Liam had agreed on that, and thought it was a wise decision. Telling her kids could complicate things, and they had enough to adjust to and deal with as it was. But so far so good. This time.

Liam came to Paris for the next two weekends. The weather was beautiful, they had a great time together, and they were both in good spirits. They spent all of their time together when he was there, and saw none of their friends. There was too much they wanted to do together, and they had little enough time as it was. They didn't want to share it with anyone, his friends or hers. And during the week, he had been hard at work preparing for his December show in New York. She was anxious for the world to see his work. He could hardly wait, and the work in his studio in London was going well.

They were walking in the Bois de Boulogne with Socks when she asked him about his children in Vermont, as she often did. She always encouraged him to talk about them. She knew he missed them a lot. It had been a year since he'd seen them. The divorce was in progress, and would be final around Christmas. Beth had told him she was getting married as soon as it came through. He said he had made his peace with it, and Sasha was convinced he had. They had both moved on. But the children still needed him, in her opinion, as he did them. Maybe more than he thought, or was willing to acknowledge. In Sasha's opinion, he seemed all too amenable to letting Beth handle them, and staying out of the way.

“Why don't you go over and see them this summer, Liam?” she encouraged him, as he threw a stick for Socks, who retrieved it. He had taught her a few tricks as well, and she had turned out to be a lovely dog. Sasha was crazy about her, even more so because she had been a gift from him. “I have to spend time with my kids in August.” They all had time then, and she loved spending every minute with them that she could, particularly when she and her two children could go away on vacations, which was becoming rarer and rarer as they got older and had ever-busier lives. She knew that one of these days they would have serious significant others, and it wouldn't be possible at all. These were her very last chances to do it, and each year seemed like the last one. “Maybe we could go away somewhere this summer after we both spend time with our kids.” She was always organizing him, which annoyed him at times and amused him at others. He knew it was just what she did. For everyone. She was a classic mother hen, which he also loved about her, especially when she mothered him.

“I don't even know if they want to see me,” Liam said honestly. He said often that they were angry at him for staying away for so long, which was what Sasha had feared. He called them infrequently, and when he did, the conversations were difficult. They blamed him openly for the demise of the marriage. Beth had told them enough to upset them, without the gory details, but none of them had forgiven him. It made calling them hard, and the distance had taken its toll as well. Sasha was afraid that if he waited too long to see them, the damage would never be undone, or not for years. She had warned him of that, too. After only one year, there was still time. His children were young. His oldest son was eighteen and leaving for college in September, his middle child, also a son, was twelve now, and his daughter had just turned six. They were young enough for him to rebuild a relationship with them, but only if he made an effort. And she knew he loved them. There were often tears in his eyes when he spoke of them, and he said he missed them. But he was beginning to feel they were Beth's children now, more than his. She saw them every day. He didn't.

“Why don't you ask them?” Sasha suggested. “Do you think Beth would let you take them somewhere?” She thought of offering him the house in Southampton, but she didn't want to interfere, and she didn't know if Tatianna planned to use it. She suspected she would. Both her children loved that house, and the memories they had there of their childhood. She had tender memories there, too. Of them, and Arthur.

“I'm not sure how she will feel about letting me take the kids. She's not too fond of me these days.” As Sasha knew from what he'd told her, the support he had sent her for the past year had been skimpy. Beth was being helped by her future husband, which embarrassed Liam and complicated matters further. Sasha had given him an advance, but Liam had to live, and buy paints and canvas. He couldn't afford to send her much. They both hoped it would improve after his show. But in the meantime, his financial situation was still tough. And as a result, so was Beth's. She'd been dealing with that with him for twenty years, and she was sick of it. Liam didn't blame her. She was going to be much better off with her new husband. He was happy for her. And he was happy with Sasha. The only thing missing in his life now were his kids.

“Why don't you call her and the children?” Sasha prodded, and he promised to do that during the week. After he did, he called Sasha, and reported on his conversation with Beth. He sounded pleased, and thanked Sasha for pushing him to do it.

“She doesn't want me taking them away. I can't afford to anyway. But she said I can come to visit, and take them for a few days if I want to. Her parents have a cabin on a lake near where she lives, and she said I could use that. The kids love it. The boys love to fish there.” It sounded like the perfect solution to both of them. Beth wanted him to come that month. They had other plans for the rest of the summer, and were planning to visit her future in-laws in California, and take a trip to the Grand Canyon.

“That sounds great,” Sasha said, sounding delighted. “I was going to talk to you about that anyway. I have to be in New York later in June, and I was thinking about staying for a few weeks. I was going to ask you if you want to come with me. As long as we're relatively discreet, you can stay at the apartment with me.” Tatianna was so busy with her own life, she hardly saw her mother when she was in town, never showed up unannounced at the apartment, and never stayed there now that she had her own place in Tribeca. Liam's presence would be easy to hide.

“I probably shouldn't take the time off right now, with a show coming up, but God, Sasha, I'd love it.” It sounded great to both of them. They had missed each other more than ever after their trip in Italy in May. She missed living with him. And there was lots for them to do in New York. “When are you going?”

“In about ten days. I was going to ask you about it this weekend.”

“Count me in. I'll come.” He was thrilled.

“If you can spare the time, we could spend part of the month there,” Sasha suggested. They both loved the sound of it. Their trip to Italy had been a huge success, and hopefully this would be too, although a little different since Sasha had to work. “We could spend the Fourth of July in New York and then come back to Europe.”

She was planning to work at the Paris gallery in July, and then leave on vacation with the kids in August. They were going to St. Tropez, which her children loved, and she had chartered a boat to entice them. Both of them were planning to bring friends, which was fine with her. The only part of it she didn't like was that she hated leaving Liam for three weeks. She had some vague plan to see if she could invite him on the boat for a weekend, as a “visiting artist,” but she wasn't sure yet if she could pull it off. Tatianna had a keen nose, and Xavier knew him. At her most devious, she thought of asking Xavier to invite him, but she didn't want to tempt fate. There was a distinct possibility, and it was more than likely, that she wouldn't see Liam for three weeks. But at least they'd have the rest of June in New York.