Love Conquers All

by Galia Albin

  Chapter 54

  All of Who’s Who in the communication and advertising world were invited to the Hilton great hall for a celebration of the second anniversary of “Society” magazine, and nobody was so petty as to mention that it was actually four months pas the real anniversary date. Everybody knew that the party was meant to repair the damage done to the magazine’s image and to boost its status after the great “Hit” debacle.

  Talia spent two months preparing for the event, and her organizational efficiency surprised everybody at the office. But despite the experience she had accumulated organizing balls in Beverly Hills, Talia greeted guests at the door feeling tired, tense and in low spirits.

  She wore a long, black evening gown, bare to the back, and a three row pearl necklace adorned her neck. Her legs swayed on pin-like stiletto heels. Her eyes were carefully made up, highlighting their feline shape, and her short hair looked like a shining dome. Talia scattered smiles all around, hugging and kissing the guests, none of whom could guess how dejected and somber her spirits really were. She missed Jonathan more than she could bear. Underneath the smiles, she felt like crying. Keiserman approached her and gently put a fatherly hand around her shoulders, as if he knew, without being told, how she felt. He had come at the right moment, when she felt lonely and in need of a male presence. In the entire hall—perhaps in the entire world—there was nobody who could truly read her. If there were such a person, she would go with him, right then and there, to the end of the world...

  She was wrapped in her private thoughts, acting mechanically, discharging her duties as a hostess without paying much attention. Good old faithful Keiserman, she thought, how fortunate that he had not resigned from the magazine. He knew how much I relied on his support... Her chest contracted in pain, and she leaned momentarily against his tall body, smiling at him through tear-filled eyes. He pressed her arm warmly, compassionately, indicating that she must pull herself together.

  The guests come to her one by one. Clutching firmly her embroidered evening purse, she straightened herself up and raised her head in a defiant stance.

  Suddenly, in the dense crowd, she noticed Micah, taking determined steps, making his way to her. Micah, no the owner of one of the largest advertising firms in the country, attended the reception alone, and Talia wondered where ditty was. Micah planted a light kiss on her cheek and raised his voice above the music. “Talia, you look gorgeous. What’s your secret? Won’t you tell me? I need a moment of your time.”

  “Sure,” Talia said, a little uneasy. Keiserman exchanged a quick glance with her. “I see you two have some business to discuss. I won’t disturb you then,” he said gently and left.

  “No business to discuss, Talia,” Micah said, and again eyed her from top to bottom. “I just wanted to get rid of the old coot. Listen, you look simply stunning. An international belle. But of course, it isn’t news to you that you turn me on.”

  Talia’s face flushed in embarrassment. Her feet seemed glued to the floor. She wanted to escape, but her feet felt like heavy rocks. It was not the compliments that flustered her, she couldn’t even relish them in her melancholy lonely state. But I wish it were someone else delivering the compliments tonight, she thought, and not so vulgar and arrogantly and above all, not Micah!

  It was not only his style that offended her, but the man himself. Micah was her best friend’s husband, and yet several years ago, he had tried to force his attention on her. It was not rape exactly—nobody could rape me, she thought, but it was a vulgar, ugly attempt to drag me to bed against my will and against my better judgment. She never forgot his behavior that night, and she knew she never would.

  Micah stood next to her, wondering about the unpleasant silence that filled the space between them, behave naturally, she commanded herself, and she even managed to fake a smile, as if enjoying his compliments. What can possibly happen here tonight, in front of hundreds of people? He just wants to pay me a compliment, that’s his style, he mans no harm; she tried to soothe herself, ignoring the offense.

  But now he brought his face close to hers and whispered in her ear, “Talia, you’re a real woman! I can’t contain myself. There’s no sexier woman in the whole crowd tonight. You’re driving me crazy, you’re making my blood boil!” She could feel his heavy breath, mixed with a masculine scent that she found particularly offensive, but before she could mask her revulsion with a polite gesture, he had put his tongue in her ear, rolling and licking it inside. The slime made her shudder with repugnance. She had to muster all her powers of self-restraint not to shriek. Nobody seemed to notice what was going on between them. Hold on, you mustn’t betray your feelings in this crowd, she thought, bitterly aware of the innocent curious looks directed at them.

  “Micah, you must forgive me, I have to talk to that bank manager over there, he’s all alone,” Talia excused herself, her voice slightly trembling. Micah smiled wanly and went with her, holding her arm. In a moment the bank manager was surrounded by a group of people. Talia waited until Micah started a conversation with him, and quietly left. Her cheeks were burning, and she felt suffocated. If only she could find a quiet comer, to calm down...

  The evening proved a great success, as nobody doubted it would. All the important advertisers and senior copyrighters were present. They all gave her compliments and seemed happy and content to meet colleagues and competitors in the great hall. The wine and refreshments were quickly and eagerly consumed, and a small band played South American tunes, Talia’s own choice.

  But troubling thoughts kept nagging at her. She peeked to see if Micah was still talking to the bank manager, and she asked herself it she had acted wisely when she accepted Keiserman’s advice. Keiserman was trying to secure a contract with the Workers’ bank, but he had no way of knowing about a certain evening several years back, that stood like an ominous shadow between Micah and Talia, and which had never been brought to Ditty’s attention. Following her accountant’s advice, Talia arranged a business meeting with Micah. Throughout the long and convoluted process of negotiation, which took part mostly at lunches, Micah went out of his way to please her. He complimented, praised, manipulated. Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, Talia thought ironically at each of these meetings that lasted much longer than was necessary.

  But at the end, Gallia garnered the desired prize: a hefty advertising contract, signed between the magazine and the Workers’ Bank, one of the two largest banks in the country.

  Keiserman will be pleased with me, she thought, looking for her father’s old friend who was mingling in the crowd. I took his advice, I even groveled and sucked up to people, against my nature. I had lunch with small time advertisers and with big time advertisers. That was a condition some of them made; “I’ll give you the account only if you have lunch with me.” Ha! So I had lunch with them and felt as if I was selling myself for a handful of dollars. Isn’t this a kind of prostitution?

  And now I’m dealing with the Worker’s bank, whose advertising account is handled by Micah, Talia continued to reflect ruefully. I should be happy, jump for joy, as Caspi would have done, except that I don’t feel happy, just apprehensive and disgusted. Micah keeps saying that he brought me a large “dowry.” He drops heavy hints. If he brought the “dowry” then what does that make me? The bride?

  She wished she could discuss all this with Keiserman. After all, Micah made it perfectly clear to you, Mrs. Talia Schwarz, the widow of his friend Jonathan, what it is he expects from you. Did you think you would get a juicy contract just because you run a successful magazine with a healthy circulation? Whenever she felt disgusted with herself, Talia addressed herself in the second person, and now Micah caused her to feel extremely disgusted.

  Once he hinted—and she pretended not to hear—that he hoped she would be “a good girl...” A good girl! How she hated that repulsive phrase. That repulsive Micah! Maybe that’s his way of getting back at Jonathan? But whatever for?

  He won’t take his eye off me, Talia thought, as
if I were his property.

  I could threaten to tell his wife, but this really wouldn’t do now. Poor ditty, something is obviously wrong between them. She keeps quiet and doesn’t tell me anything. Perhaps I’ve been too busy lately with my own affairs. I must speak to Ditty soon...

  Talia went out to freshen up in the manager’s private washroom. As she walked in, Micah was coming out. He leered at her and whispered, “I booked a room for us here at the hotel. It’s number 17 on the 17* floor, so it will be easy for you to remember. Met me there at 11:30, when the reception is over.”

  “But Micah, I don’t think there’s any reason to summon the sect group up for further discussions after the party,” Talia pretended not to understand his meaning, but even to her own ears, the evasion sounded lame and artificial.

  “No, Talia, just you and me, just me and you. We’re the most select group in town. So don’t forget, 17/17. I’ll be there, a bottle of your favorite Chardonet Rothschild 88 will be waiting for you.

  Towards the end of the evening, when Micah’s back was turned, Talia escaped from the party, without taking leave of her guest. She had barely entered her bedroom when the phone rang gratingly. Reluctantly, she picked up the receiver.

  “Talia, where are you? Why did you run away?”

  “I'd dint’ run away. The evening was over, and I was beat. I’ve been on my feet since morning. I haven’t had a chance to see my kids all day.”

  She feigned self-pity—any tactic would do to get rid of him and his unwanted attention.

  “No, Talia, you ran away from me, on purpose. I told you I had booked a room for us.” His voice sounded furious, as if he were at the point of exploding. “You made fun of me. You should know that nobody makes fun of Micah! Well, I’m going to teach you a lesson. You’ll get what you deserve! You’ll be sorry for the game you played!”

  Talia opened the Jacuzzi faucet and filled the tub with hot water. The bathroom quickly filled up with steam. Ever since she could remember,

  Talia loved soaking in scalding water, and Jonathan shared her passion for piping hot water. She quickly divested herself of the evening gown, her panties and bra, and kicked off the tight stiletto shoes. She took bottle of bath oil and foam from a nearby shelf and poured them absentmindedly into the steaming water.

  Tonight she needed the Jacuzzi—the private, secret pool that had granted Jonathan and her so many hours of pleasure and forgetfulness. Only there could she relax after the grueling evening that sapped her energies and ended with an annoying confrontation with Micah. She entered the heart- shaped tub, sinking into the water as into a womb. She opened and closed her eyes, to prevent them from tearing. The day she had experienced a strange lassitude, as if her strength had been tapped out. She missed Jonathan more than ever, but even though the void he left in her life had drained her of mental and emotional energy, she refused to give into self-pity.

  The house was still. She lost all track of time. Her tense aching muscles began to relax. Thoughts wandered aimlessly, desultorily, in her mind. The water seeped into her somnolent body that had long forgotten the touch of a man’s hands. She could feel Jonathan’s presence beside her and her feminine consciousness was awakened by her intense yearning for him. In her mind, she envisaged him touching her, stroking her body gently, kissing her every limb. Imagination acted like a living member, more tangible than the real thing.

  She lay in the tub, her legs stretched forward, and directed the jet flow inwardly. The jets sent tremors of pleasure an excitement throughout her body. With closed eyes, she caressed her body, tweaked her nipples and descended to her thighs. The water was getting cooler, but she hardly noticed it; her body blazed in her yearning for Jonathan. She called out his name in indescribable bliss and at the same time, in profound sorrow, the two emotions mingling in her mind, making her feel as if she were hovering in an unreal existence.

  The hovering continued, the pain continued, and so did the unbearable sweetness of the pleasure she was experiencing. A tremendous groan escaped from her mouth, her body arched and stretched in the water, and the tears that were bottled up in her eyes gushed forth in an uncontrollable stream, washing her cheeks in long rivulets, cascading and joining the water and her body’s other fluids.

  The whole night she rocked and tossed with the sobs that her body emitted, and only toward dawn did she fall asleep, exhausted, in her bed.

  Micah made good on his threats to try to sabotage the contract. Talia tried to talk to him. “Business is business,” she told Berliner, the magazine’s lawyer. “I’ll wait a little longer, before using the heavy artillery. Right now I can’t get through to him. His secretary won’t transfer my calls. She is rude beyond belief. The bank, too, though more polite, won’t accede to my requests. They don’t want to interfere, they say, it’s a matter between me and the advertising firm...

  Berliner offered his services, but he, too, was rejected out of hand.

  The arbitrary disconnection between the advertising agency and the magazine angered Talia, and she decided to publish a series of double spread ads featuring a famous trio of comedians, as specified in the contract. “As far as I’m concerned, he can display just one ad—but he’ll have to pay for the whole year, as the contract stipulates, she told Berliner adamantly. The lawyer stared at her, hypnotized; when she’s furious, he thought, she looks even more beautiful. The green cat’s eyes glinted, her cheeks were aflame, and her face was unusually animated.

  Micah stalled indefinitely over the payment for the ad. Soon, the entire series of advertisements appeared in other publications, which infuriated Talia. She determined to publish the other ads too, as had been originally agreed upon.

  “I know Micah, he will stall and use every evasive trick in the book.” Berliner was a distant relative of Micah, and had taken active part in the negotiations. Perhaps he is not eager to take on a member of his family, Talia thought. Normally, he acts like an old war horse, but maybe he is afraid of Micah. He told me once that Micah had a Mafioso mentality and was sly as a fox. It seems that there’s a limit to what Berliner is willing to do for his job and for me...”

  “But you know that the contract was identical for all the papers—he honored his commitments to the other ones. He signed the same contract with me, I have it all in black and white. I even selected appropriate articles to be printed next to the ads, to drive home the marketing message.”

  “This will not make Micah budge. He is a master of deception and prevarication. You’ll see what happens: he will pretend to recant, promise to pay you, and then renege again. You’d better leave him alone. Abandon this road altogether...”

  “Listen Berliner,” Talia’s voice rose slightly, just enough to drive home her steely insistence. “I did not choose to take this road, he wants revenge on me, and why? The reasons have nothing to do with business. I am going to bring a lawsuit against him. I am not afraid. If you’re scared, you can pack your things and leave. I can give you my word that I will bring charges against him, with or without your support. And not just for breach of contract, but for something he never even dreamed of—sexual harassment!” Berliner’s long face turned pale. “Are you sure, Talia? You know, such allegations are hard to prove. It’s your word against his.” Berliner had won her trust, and believed her, but she needed to be sure of her determination in the matter.

  “Yes, I’m going through with this. It’s time somebody put an end to this abuse!” Talia was agitated, her hands clutched the arms of her chair so tightly that her writs turned blue, and her heart pounded like a clock. “He had made sexual advances at me throughout the negotiations, and that night at the party, he constantly harassed me, finally informing me that he had booked a room for us at the hotel. 17/17, if you need exact details. You can check at the hotel registry. When I didn’t show up, he called me up at home, reviled and abused me, then threatened me. I think I have a valid case against him.”

  “Even if he booked a room at the hotel, who’s going to believ
e it was not done with your consent?”

  “I’m willing to take this risk, if you don’t’ mind.”

  “And what about your friend, his wife? What will Ditty say?”

  “You leave my relationship with Ditty alone. There are few things I can’t tell you about my best friend’s husband. But Berliner, I’m afraid you don’t have what it takes to pursue this matter to its end. Now, if you can, prove me wrong.”

  Attorney Yoram Messner prepared Talia’s sexual harassment claim and sent it by messenger to Micah’s office. On the same day, the first payment for the series of advertisements for the Workers’ Bank arrived on Talia’s desk.

  “Do you wish to continue the war?” Yoram Messner asked, and Talia said she needed time to reflect. She felt totally vindicated in her battle against Micah, representing herself and countless other women caught in the interminable battle of the sexes. But once the adversary capitulated, she felt fatigue overcome her, and she no long had the will and energy to continue the battle. Although she had a fighting spirit and relished a contest, her concern for Ditty now took precedence over other issues.