The Sweet Edge (4 page)

When the appetizers were done, Campbell leaned back and drank wine. “What do you think?”

“About the food? Marvelous. Simple ingredients, but expertly prepared."

"That's French cooking. It's all about technique."

Stella sipped the grapefruit and vodka. "So is the famous Belvedere vodka in this drink?"

"Yes." Campbell looked proud.

"Do you own stock in the company or something? You keep pushing the vodka on people."

"I like fine things." Campbell's voice was sharp.

"Obviously, but not everyone can afford fine things. Sometimes cheap is just as good or better because it's affordable."

"I don't agree." Campbell straightened the butter knife on the table.

"I don't believe in expensive, name brand things simply because they are expensive, name brand things."

"I don't agree. Luxury is a gift you give to yourself and others in your life. Luxury is a reward."

"What about those trust fund brats that are born into luxury? Did they deserve the reward?"

"Look. I’ve worked hard. Earned money. I can afford luxury items. I'm rewarding myself. My work allows me to reward you with a first class dinner. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. But don't mock people for being frugal. Don't mock me for drinking cheap vodka."

"I'm sorry." Campbell looked sincere.

Stella smoothed the napkin on her lap. "I haven't done as well as you. I need to save money any way I can."

"I understand. Really. I do. I'm sorry I insulted you."

"In the book I am writing, the heroine is wealthy. Penny pinching isn't romantic, fun or escapist."

"That's true. There is nothing rewarding about poverty. Nothing. It's dehumanizing."

"Can we change the subject?" Stella looked around for the waiter.

The waiter approached with a large tray and stand. He served the steaks with Béarnaise sauce, the scallops and poured more wine. Stella and Campbell ate in silence. It was not an uncomfortable silence. Stella thought it curious that she could simply eat without feeling the need to talk and share. This must be what it feels like to have someone in your life you are completely comfortable with. Stella thought about Ben.
It would be like that with Ben
, thought Stella. Pure comfort.

Campbell soaked up some of the Béarnaise with his last piece of steak. He smiled. "Dessert?"

Stella groaned. "I couldn't. I'm so full."

"You really shouldn't say no to Crème Brule or chocolate mousse."

"But I'm so full."

"A little chocolate mousse?" Campbell's voice was playful.

"Oh, all right."

"Wonderful." Campbell waved down the waiter. "Chocolate mousse for two."

"Of course," said the waiter.

Campbell leaned back and twirled his wine glass. "So what else do you do? For fun."

"I don't have much fun. I work a lot. Write. I do go to museums. I love the Guggenheim and the Met."

"I collect art. I have a Rauschenberg. A little Dali sketch. A Lichtenstein."

Stella was finally impressed. "That's wonderful. I love all three of them. But I do have an affinity for found art, so Rauschenberg would be my favorite of the three."

"You should come see them. Tonight. I'll have the car pick you up from my place."

"Well, I…" Stella wasn't sure she wanted to go with Campbell to his home. She was feeling tired and wanted to have time to fantasize about Ben before having to wake up Sunday and deal with all the things she ignored today like laundry, exercising, grocery shopping and cleaning.

"Please. I'm proud of my collection. You will love them." Campbell wasn't sure what prompted him to invite Stella. Before she arrived he was thinking of ways to make the dinner quick and painless. But then he found himself finding ways to extend the meal like ordering several appetizers and dessert, and inviting her to see his art. Campbell wasn't eager to be alone and think of Kristin. He didn't want to admit it, but he was lonely and having dinner with Stella was ameliorating that loneliness. She was smart, a good conversationalist and she argued. She didn't automatically agree with Campbell the way Kristin had. Kristin had adopted every like and dislike that Campbell had. Kristin didn't want to challenge Campbell. He was money to her and you never argued with money.

"I'll go." Stella hooked her hair behind her ear and smiled weakly. She was genuinely curious to see the art, but Campbell’s pleading was considerably more interesting. He was so eager and sad at the same time. He seemed so lonely. Stella was intrigued by that. How could a wealthy, good looking man be so lonely?

Campbell and Stella ate the chocolate mousse in the same silence that overtook them during the entrée portion of the meal. Stella was once again shocked by how comfortable the silence was. Their spoons occasionally clinked against each other’s and they smiled and continued happily eating. The waiter came just as Stella finished the last bit of the mousse. The waiter presented the bill to Campbell and he handed over a credit card without looking at the amount. A minute later the waiter was back with the printed receipt and Campbell signed the bill quickly.

“Let’s go.” He held his hand out for Stella. She stood but did not grab his hand.

Stella retrieved her coat from the clerk. She glanced outside and saw pieces of paper twirling in the street. It was windy. Stella buttoned her lilac wool coat. She felt Campbell’s hand on her back. His hand felt firm and she thought she could feel his warmth through her coat.
That’s impossible
, thought Stella. She wondered if perhaps her body was merely reacting to his touch. She did not dwell on this thought.

“Ready?” Campbell smiled.

“Ready,” said Stella.

The art was hanging on the south wall. Each piece was illuminated by museum lighting. Stella stared at the paintings and stifled a yawn. Campbell was standing next to her. His hands were in his pockets and he looked proud – proud that he had acquired something so valuable. Stella looked around the condo. It was spacious by New York standards and adorned with modern features, furniture and art. There were large windows overlooking Central Park. The color scheme was black and red with splashes of white. The condo was stylish, plush and beautiful. Stella noted that her entire apartment would only take up half of the living room.

"What do you think?"

"Wonderful." Stella was entranced by the Dali, but was also fairly enamored with the condo. She knew places like this existed all over the city, although she had never been invited into them before. She didn't want to admit it, but she was more impressed by the condo than the art.

Campbell eyed Stella. He noticed that she was surveying his home with curiosity. In the mellow light, she looked very young and sweet. Cherub like. An angel gracing his presence. He extended his arm and touched her shoulder. Her skin was soft and warm. Stella looked at him openly. Campbell moved his arm upward until his fingers were tangled in her hair. He firmly pushed her head forward. She moved in hesitantly, placing her hands on Campbell's chest and breathing deeply. She could smell his musky scent. Campbell pulled Stella into his embrace and placed his lips on hers. They hovered with their lips touching and their bodies pressed into each other. Stella looked frightened, but Campbell could also see desire bubbling on her reddening cheeks and glistening eyes. Campbell licked her lips. He could taste wine and chocolate. He pulled back slightly, gazed at Stella and then tightened his grip on the back of her head. Campbell leaned in again and began kissing her. He dotted her face and mouth with the heat of his kisses. Stella stood very still and then suddenly pulled back, away from Campbell.

"No," said Stella.

Campbell was gripping her arms. He bent his head and kissed her hand. "Why?" he asked. His voice was thick with desire.

"Because…" Stella's voice trailed off. She gave in to Campbell's strength and felt her body merge into his. She opened her mouth and kissed Campbell delicately. Almost primly. But he didn't want to be gentle. He let his hands grip her hair and he pulled her forward roughly into his chest and mouth. Stella and Campbell kissed passionately, hungrily. She encircled her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. Her breasts were crushed against his chest. Stella moaned aloud, swooned and then, as if shocked by her own hunger, she pulled away and untangled herself from Campbell's grasp. She was thinking of Ben. Stella was thinking she was being disloyal to Ben, which she knew was crazy because she wasn't even in a relationship with him. She was just obsessed and infatuated.

"I need to go." Stella walked to the door. Her coat was hanging on a hook.

"Stella." Campbell's voice sounded hoarse and insistent. A tangle of yearning and confusion. Stella felt darts of arousal across her body.

"Thank you for the dinner. Thank you. I really should go."

Campbell came up behind her and pressed her against the door as Stella was putting her left arm into her coat.

"Stella." Campbell brushed his cheek against her shoulder and Stella swayed slightly.
This feels too good, why does this feel so good?
Stella wondered.

"I have to go."

Campbell stood up straighter. His desired ebbed. "Let me call the car service."

"No. I need to leave now."

"I'm sorry if I offended you." Campbell looked hurt.

"You didn't offend me. I just need to go."

Stella opened the door and rushed down the hall to the elevator. She didn't look back. The elevator dinged and she got on quickly and pressed the L button. Stella stood on Park Avenue dazed. She was a mess. She felt like her makeup was melting, her hair felt limp, the wind had raised goosebumps on her arms and her feet hurt. Stella decided she would take the subway back. She groaned. She wanted to be in bed, warm and bundled rather than outside dodging characters and strangers on a long trip home.

Stella got home to her studio apartment shortly before 1:00 AM. She pulled off her clothes and rushed to put her flannel pajamas on. In bed, she rolled up in the blankets and hugged a satin pillow, thinking of Campbell and his tongue and lips. She squeezed her eyes shut as if closing them could blot out thoughts of him. She was scared. She admitted that to herself. Campbell had approached her with desire but Stella, deep down in her soul, did not think she was desirable. She had thought of Ben, sweet Ben, but the thought was foolish since he had never approached her beyond simple exchanges. In her dreams, Ben desired her. In life, Campbell had desired her and it made her skittish. Stella flopped onto her back and stared out the window.
I'll sort this out tomorrow
, she thought.

On Monday, Stella bought two bagels and two coffees and brought them into the law firm. She walked down the long hall adorned with paintings of the partners and knocked on Ben's door. He was sitting at his desk littered with bulging file folders. He didn't look up.

"Hello?" Stella's voice cracked.

Ben’s eyes moved upward. He grinned. “Hi Stella.”

“I brought you a bagel and coffee.” Stella extended her arms like she was offering up something to a deity.

“Well, that was nice of you. Just what I need. This case is kicking my butt.”

“You certainly work hard.” Stella wasn’t sure what to say to Ben. She felt nervous.

“Have to if I want to make partner. Hey, what do I owe you for the treat?”

“Oh, you don’t owe me. My treat.”

“So nice. I’ll treat you tomorrow.”

Stella smiled happily. “People might think we have something going on.”

Ben laughed loudly. “Imagine. Maybe the demon boss lady will get jealous. That Gwen's something.”

Stella blushed and Ben ran a hand through his thick hair. “Are you going to the firm cocktail party next week?” asked Stella.

“Have to. Mingling makes you partner. Are you?”

“Yes. Looking forward to it. Never been to Cafe Carlyle.”

Ben smiled and nodded and then his eyes wandered to the window where the steel canyon of Wall Street buildings jutted up like monsters in a sci-fi movie. He looked distracted.
Possibly bored
, thought Stella.

“I’ll let you get back to your work.” she smiled.

“Thanks. Have a nice day. The bagel and coffee are much appreciated. I will treat you tomorrow.” Ben looked down at the file in front of him and sipped the mocha latte that Stella spent almost six dollars on.

“Bye.” Stella waved but Ben didn’t notice. He was absorbed in his work.

Stella walked to her desk with her head hung low. She had failed to impress him. For some reason, she thought coffee and a bagel might let Ben know she was interested, that she wanted a June wedding in the Hamptons and that she wanted to name their babies Raven and Thatcher. A delivery of breakfast meant an invitation to commitment.
Didn’t Ben realize that?
A delivery of breakfast meant,
save me from the embarrassment and confusion of Saturday night
. Stella sorted out nothing on Sunday. She woke late and went to the library where she meandered through the shelves. She wanted to find a book that would help resolve the tension inside her. Jane Eyre, Mrs. Dalloway, The Art of War, Goodnight Moon. Nothing could calm her. She wanted to be writing her grand romance. Dashing off pages. Writing for her financial independence. Instead, she was roaming the library hoping to understand what happened, why it happened and why she felt a zing of desire every time she thought of Campbell Royce. Campbell Royce.

Stella squinted her eyes. Maybe if she squeezed her eyes her brain would shrink and Campbell and Ben would disappear from her conscious mind.

“What are you doing?”

Stella looked up. Gwen was standing in front of her desk. “I...I have a headache.”

“Get some pain relievers from the receptionist. There is a ton of transcribing that needs to be done. Also, I have been told that you are doing a good job.”

“Really?” Stella was genuinely shocked.

Gwen nodded slowly. “We have a legal secretary position opening up. I am being told to invite you to interview.”

“You are being told?”

“Yes, never mind who. I will send you an email with interview times to select from if you are interested. Are you interested?”

Stella thought. The position meant more money per hour, full time with overtime possibilities, an IRA, benefits and...more time with Ben. “Yes, I am interested.”

“Good. Well, watch for the email.”

Stella watched Gwen clack away.
Who told her I was doing a good job
, wondered Stella.  Ben.

“Ben!” Stella screamed in her head. “Ben told her. Ben wants me to work here full time because he wants to see me every day, for hours a day. Maybe we can even work on the same cases and travel together. Maybe he will knock on my hotel room one night and I will invite him in and we will...Oh, my god. We will have mad passionate love.” The thought was almost too much to bear. Stella felt hot and flush. She looked around the office but only saw diligent, over-burdened secretaries and paralegals straining at their computer screens. Nobody was watching her ecstatic meltdown.

Stella picked up the headset and happily started playing the board meeting minutes for Razor Edge Financial. It was boring, but she didn’t mind. She felt beyond happy. Like a wild bird released from a cage.

Stella skipped lunch and finished all the transcribing for the day in record time. She felt energetic, hopeful and excited about the future. She logged off her computer and looked up just as Ben was walking down the hall. His head was down. He had a cobalt blue mug in his right hand. He looked up at Stella and winked and then continued to walk across the hen coop (the place where most of the secretaries and paralegals were pooled together in the office, a completely sexist term given the fact that there were several male paralegals) and into the bank of offices on the North side of the office. Stella could barely contain herself when Ben winked at her. She giggled like some playground diva.

Stella was at Lola’s with fifteen minutes to spare before her shift began. She went into the locker room and brushed her hair and decided to apply makeup. She was twirling a blush brush across her cheeks when Kelly walked in, closed the door behind he, and locked it.

“Alright. Spill.”

“What are you talking about?” Stella was dumbfounded.

“I get a call on Sunday from a man asking about you and then he hand delivers a note to me today. What am I? Your note bitch? Are you like sixteen? Why are you trading notes? Also, I got a call from some woman stating she was from the IRS. Why is the IRS calling you?”

“The IRS?! What the hell is that about? What did they want?”

“Employment information.”

“Did this woman from the IRS leave a number?”

“Nope. She was pretty snooty. But what about this man? Lola’s is not a dating service. I don’t want to Stella, but this is a warning. No more personal business at work.”

“I’ll take care of it Kelly. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not.” Kelly slid a hand into her pocket. “Here’s the note. Nice paper.” The paper was heavy cream like the first note.

“I’m sorry Kelly.”

“So who is this man?” Kelly’s eyes were wide with curiosity.

“Just somebody that I met.” Stella was not about to tell her that she met him at Lola’s.

“Well, good for you. But keep it outside the restaurant.”

“I will.” Kelly unlocked the door and went out.

Stella opened the note. It read:

I want to taste you again. Please call me.

Stapled to the paper was a business card with several numbers including a handwritten one on the back. The business card was emblazoned with the jagged print of Razor Edge Financial. Razor Edge was in all the business papers, nearly daily. Not that Stella paid much attention to business papers. But you couldn’t help noticing the headlines. Stella also knew Razor Edge from her work at the law firm. It was their biggest client. The legal bills probably kept the office running year after year. Stella felt anger choking her.

“Stupid Campbell! You almost cost me my job.” She yelled as she slammed her locker.

Stella grabbed her phone out of her purse and called Campbell’s business number.

“Campbell Royce’s office, may I help you?” The voice was even and clipped.

“Yes, I want to speak to Campbell. I’m calling him at work because he called my work.”

“Excuse me, who is this?”

Stella took a deep breath. “Stella. Stella O’Malley. Campbell...”

“Hold please.” The phone went quiet. Stella paced the locker room.

“Hello?” The voice sounded anxious.

“Campbell...”

“Yes, Stella. I’m happy you called. I was just heading into a meeting though. Can I call you back?”