The Suite Life (25 page)

The sun and salt air worked their magic as soon as we touched down, and the three dozen red roses awaiting me in our suite, along with the scores of red rose petals on our bedspread, had me falling in love with my husband all over again.

I just know the big lug is a pussycat at heart.

I was touched by Alec's romantic gesture, and didn't even mind that I wasn't going to have him all to myself on this trip. Truthfully, I wasn't looking or feeling very sexy and was happy to have both Sofia and Victor and Lena and Tom, as well as a few other couples, at the so-called Transglobal mini-conference to fill some time and take up the slack when I dragged myself back to our suite while the rest of them continued to party.

The only downside to their nonstop celebration was the toll I feared so much overindulgence, combined with so much stress, was taking on my husband's body. Even a guy as big and
strong as Alec couldn't stand up to the booze and the drugs, the pressure and the pace, forever. He was already starting to gain weight, and the hemorrhoids he'd confessed to have been battling for years were getting worse and flaring up more frequently. That problem would definitely have to be addressed, but for the moment I pushed it to the back of my mind, telling myself that he'd been handling it all for years and knew what he was doing.

In the last days before giving birth, I came to understand why it's said that life would come to an end if men had to have the babies. My guy was no exception, and while there was no way he could avoid noticing my almost-hourly visits to the bathroom or my tossing and turning all night, he refused to acknowledge any problem he didn't know how to solve. Instead, he stuck with what he
did
know how to deal with—such as hiring a young woman who worked for him on and off as a concierge to be at my service from the moment our baby was born. And preoccupied as I was, I didn't waste any time wondering why on earth I'd need a concierge while I was in the hospital.

My water broke when I was alone at home and I called Alec immediately. He chuckled and told me I didn't know what I was saying, there is no way my water had broken this early. But in fact it had. I went into labor a month early to be exact. So I hung up and called a man of reason, my father-in-law, who rushed right over. He took Hercules out for a quick walk and left him downstairs with the doorman. Then he phoned his son and told him to get his ass home immediately because he was going to have a baby and the NYSE could do business for a day without him running the show.

We waited an hour for Alec to swing by in the limo, and I was never so glad to take a ride in it than I was that day. I was also thrilled to find that I was already three centimeters dilated
by the time we were settled in a private labor room at New York Presbyterian/Weill Cornell Medical Center with a view of the East River. We still didn't know the sex of our baby, but having a girl had been in my heart since the moment I found out I was pregnant.

Alec spent more time on his cell phone than he did at my side, but I didn't blame him, as the stark reality was that, for the moment anyway, there wasn't really much he could do for me. After I was wheeled into the delivery room, however, Alec bent over me, kissed me on the forehead, and went into action. He held up one leg while the nurse held up the other and I pushed and screamed and cried. That was the Alec I knew. All game.

To his credit, he was also at my side as soon as I got back to my room, cooing and giggling with joy over our Isabella Rose while I basked in the reflection of his joy. For all the expensive gifts he had given me since we met, I had finally been able to give him the most priceless gift of all. I was still amazed that I was actually a mother. I was on an island every bit as peaceful as any tropical paradise, and I said a few silent prayers of thanks for the newest blessing I'd been able to give and receive. I didn't yet know who this little person I'd brought into the world and held in my arms was going to turn out to be, but I understood that she would change my own life forever.

The peace was short-lived, however, as the DeMarco family showed up in force within an hour of the glorious event. I vowed to be alone with
my
family as soon as possible, but managed to get into the spirit of celebration my in-laws were so good at creating.

Warm and loving as their visit was, however, I sensed that Franco and Monica were somehow distant from each other, and I thought that Giovanni was trying to hide some kind of stress. But I was exhausted and preoccupied with my baby girl and dismissed such thoughts as creations of my own imagination.
Almost as soon as they left I fell into the first sound sleep I'd had in many days if not weeks.

Early the next morning an energetic young woman with short blond hair burst through the doorway bearing four overflowing shopping bags from Barneys. I'd been having a private conversation with baby Isabella but the interruption didn't seem to disturb her one bit.

“Hi, I'm Caryn from Gotham Concierge,” the bouncy young bottle-blonde said in introducing herself, dropping the bags on the floor next to my bed and squeezing my hand. “Pleased to meet you and your precious baby, Mrs. DeMarco.”

“Samantha,” I said. “Likewise.”

Caryn pulled a couple of boxes out of the bags and handed them to me. “Wait until you get a look at this lingerie, Samantha,” she gushed. “Alec's got some trip in mind for just the two of you. He insisted I pick out some sexy things for you—you're gonna die!”

I almost did when I got a look at the black satin robe and almost-sheer nightgown, and I nearly lost it again when Caryn insisted on putting the black satin slippers with two-inch heels on my still-swollen feet.

What did he have mind? Making up for lost time?

“Of course,” Caryn continued, “Alec also had to do something special for the three nurses who took care of you.” She reached into a bag and pulled out three familiar red boxes. “So, Cartier watches all around,” she announced

“Of course,” I said, kissing my daughter's dark hair.

“Do you need anything else?” Caryn asked, squeezing my hand again.

“No, I'm all set,” I said.

“Okay, then,” she said as she started to leave. “Just remember, I'm only a phone call away.”

I was fortunate to have the connections and the money that
got me a three-day stay in the hospital instead of being kicked out the day after I gave birth. So I took advantage of the rest and spent time bonding with my daughter. On my last day in the hospital, Alec showed up to take me home with a Filipina nanny in tow. I was already feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of taking care of this baby on my own, without the helpful hospital staff surrounding me day and night, so I was immeasurably grateful for the help.

From the very start, Alma was much more than a nanny. Though she was only in her early twenties, she had a strong maternal instinct, along with a generous spirit, and I felt as if she had been sent by God just for me. For the next several days we talked openly about life and love as she shared her tips about caring for a baby, which I had no idea at all how to do in the first weeks of Isabella's life. Just knowing she was there made me feel more secure, and she always made sure Alec was comfortable and well fed, even changing the sheets stained with blood from his worsening hemorrhoids on Zosia's day off.

Of course, Alec had been ignoring my pleas to have his condition taken care of. He avoided doctors like the plague. He had too many other pressing matters to take care of, such as finalizing the lease on the new apartment, which had two very large terraces with fabulous views of the water and Lady Liberty. He was also busy making arrangements for taking Transglobal public. But bloody sheet incidents became more frequent, and when he hemorrhaged so much one night that I thought he was going to bleed to death, I was all ready to call an ambulance. Of course, Alec wouldn't hear of it, but he did finally promise to see a doctor. For a moment I flashed back to the way I had lost my mother as a result of her drinking and drug habit. Was this happening to me all over again? I couldn't bear to think that the husband I loved so dearly might have the same self-destructive gene as my mother.

After emergency surgery to repair twenty internal hemorrhoids, Alec remained hospitalized and in a morphine haze for a week, insisting during his more lucid moments that he could recuperate just as well in his own bed. That didn't make me feel much better, since recent events were just the latest reminder of how precariously he lived his life and the likelihood that I would be without him long before we'd grown to a ripe old age.

As soon as he was released from the hospital, Alec announced that he needed to spend some more time recuperating alone, so he flew off to Aruba. Truthfully, I didn't mind much because I was much more interested in bonding with my daughter than traveling with a husband who seemed completely uninterested in having sex with me. I still hadn't had the opportunity to show off any of the lingerie he'd bought for me, and the promise of a renewed romance that the kinky gift implied had long since faded away.

Alec called home at least once a day, always bemoaning the fact that he missed kissing his daughter at the start and end of each day. He insisted on hearing Isabella's cooing, so she and I would share the phone as Alec's voice boomed through the receiver.

“Oh, Sam, I miss the two of you so much,” he said when he'd been away five days. “But I really needed this trip and I'm feeling much better.”

“That makes me happy, Alec,” I said.

“You'll be even happier when you get a look at the dream house I found on the Internet while I was killing some time down here.”

What house? I'm still getting used to the idea of moving to a different apartment.

“It's on the North Fork of Long Island,” Alec continued. “I already put in a bid.”

“I thought you had your heart set on the Hamptons,”
I said.

“You can't get the kind of property there that's available on the North Fork.”

“How much property do you need?”

“Enough for a compound, which I plan to start developing right after the company goes public.”

Now he's Alec-the-Godfather. Or is it Alec-the-Kennedy?

“You don't think your mom and dad will actually want to move, do you?” I asked.

“Sooner or later that house will be too much for them and they'll want to be close by.”

“Have you mentioned this to Franco and Gianna yet?”

“No, but they'll be on board as soon as I do.”

I've got my hands full with you, and now you want your family to move in, too?

Alec returned from Aruba with renewed vigor and threw himself into his work and into his plans for Isabella's christening, which would be taking place at Our Lady of Victory with Franco and Gianna as godparents. An Alec DeMarco blowout with two hundred guests at the Hudson River Club in Battery Park City overlooking the Statue of Liberty would follow immediately. He insisted that the old players on his team as well as guys like Grigor Malchek and Ted Ross be included on the list of invitations I was to send out—with Alma's assistance, of course.

Too bad she couldn't help me improve the conjugal situation with my husband. Lately it seemed that nothing I did, from modeling my most seductive lingerie to lighting scented candles, was enough to get his attention away from his business or distract him from his self-medication with alcohol and pot at the end of most days. And still I deluded myself by clinging to the hope that his self-destructive behavior as well as his lack of interest in me as a sex partner were temporary and would resolve themselves with just a little more time, and a little more support from me.

I clung to my daughter as I clung to my hope, although I was still insecure in my skills and instincts as a mother. I certainly had no role model. My own mother was a model only for how
not
to raise a child, so I was more or less on my own. Sometimes the job seemed so overwhelming that I just had to hand the baby—and the responsibility—off to Alma and be by myself. Mostly, however, I wanted to be with Isabella, and most nights I read to her, which my mother had never done for me, and sang her to sleep with the most soothing words I knew.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost but now am found, was blind, but now I see.