“I always wanted to have a marriage just like you and Daddy. You were so good together and so supportive of each other. And you looked like you had fun,” Nadia said wistfully. “I thought we were well on our way to that, and then all this happened. I’d like to think we can recover from it, but I’m not sure we can. I don’t know if I can ever forgive Nicolas. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Some marriages recover from worse things,” Rose said gently. “I don’t know if yours will or not. Time will tell. And you’re right, your father and I did have fun. I knew he was ‘the one’ the moment we met. We were in love until the end.” She smiled, thinking of her late husband. She thought that in Nadia’s life, a lot would depend on what Nicolas did now, and if he stayed with Pascale after she had the baby or made a graceful exit as fast as he said he would. “It’s not a good situation, but people sometimes forgive some pretty awful stuff. Or not. I’m sorry you have to go through it.” Nadia acknowledged what she said with a nod.
“Me too. Seeing you makes me feel human again. Just going out to dinner with you and the girls makes a difference, and feels normal. I’m so tired of talking to Nicolas about it. It’s our only subject of conversation now. Sometimes I feel like I’m on a desert island and can’t get away from it.”
“What are you doing this summer?” her mother asked her.
“I don’t know. Everything is up in the air. We always go to the château for July and August. He says I can go without him if I want to. I suppose he’ll be with her somewhere if he’s not with us. The girls will be upset if he doesn’t come. I can always leave for a while and let him be there with the girls. I don’t want to be there with him and pretend that nothing happened. It’s all so awkward.” Rose nodded. It was more than awkward. It was hideous.
Rose had a small house in Southampton, where she spent weekends in the summer. It was a busy time for her. She sometimes came to the château for a few days if she could get away.
“I wish my sisters would come,” Nadia said thoughtfully.
“Why don’t you ask them?” Rose suggested, and Nadia liked the idea.
“I think I might.” Nadia smiled at her. They talked until after midnight and stayed away from the hot topic. Nadia slept peacefully that night. It seemed odd at her age, but she felt safe just having her mother there.
When Nadia woke up in the morning, she found her mother in the kitchen, having breakfast with the girls. She had made French toast for them, which reminded Nadia of her childhood. Her mother used to make French toast or pancakes for them on Sunday mornings.
They went for a long walk along the Seine after breakfast. Rose loved digging through the bookstalls and finding old books in French. Then they went back to the apartment. She was leaving that night to go back to New York. It had been a short visit but a good one, and had given Nadia relief and perspective. She didn’t feel so alone now. She knew her mother had to get back to work, and was grateful Rose had made the effort to come for the weekend.
Sylvie and Laure were sorry to see her leave when she said goodbye to them and promised to come back soon. She was just hugging Nadia when they heard a key in the lock, and Nicolas let himself into the apartment. He looked startled to see them standing there, as though he wanted to back out the moment he saw Rose. She stood looking at him with her piercing blue eyes, as though he were an intruder and didn’t belong there.
“Oh…I thought you’d be gone by now,” he said, which only made it worse. He had assumed she’d leave in the morning to get to New York at a decent hour. But she was taking the latest flight she could, not to lose a moment with her daughter.
“I’m taking a late flight,” she said coolly. “Were you trying to avoid me?” she asked, and he felt like a truant schoolboy facing the headmaster. He had never found her frightening, as he did now. They’d had some good times together, but he knew that was impossible under the circumstances. He was The Enemy now.
“I didn’t want to intrude on you and Nadia. She said you were leaving today. I just came by to say good night to the girls.” He had a deep tan, and it was obvious he’d been in the sun all weekend.
“Do you always let yourself in without ringing the bell now?” Rose said coolly, implying that he no longer lived there. The girls had thrown their arms around him as soon as they saw him, and Nadia looked uncomfortable at the exchange. She was afraid of what her mother would say.
“I live here,” he said quietly.
“Really?” Rose responded, as though that was a ridiculous answer. “I think that’s very generous of your wife.” A muscle tightened in his jaw, but he didn’t respond to his mother-in-law. Sylvie and Laure gave their grandmother a last hug and bounded off to their room then.
“I’ll come back later,” Nicolas said directly to his wife, not wanting to engage with her mother, and assuming he’d be welcome.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nadia said since the girls were out of earshot. He hesitated for a moment, looked at both women and then nodded.
“New rules now that your mother has been here?” he asked, irritated.
“Reality,” Nadia answered.
“I’ll call you, then,” he said tersely, and was about to leave when Rose’s clipped British words stopped him.
“I’m disappointed in you, Nicolas. I thought you were a better man than this. All the gutter nonsense, tabloid press, a young starlet. It reads like a trashy novel, while you trample everyone’s heart in your path.”
He turned to gaze at her full on then. There was no way he could ignore what she had said, or the look in her eyes that went with it.
“I didn’t intend for it to happen this way, or at all actually,” he said facing her. His tone was honest, not aggressive.
“It didn’t ‘happen.’ You did it. You and that girl created this mess, and now everyone is going to pay the price for it, even your children.” He had no answer to that, and he knew she was right, which made it worse. “There are going to be casualties. It’s inevitable. There already are,” she said, glancing at her daughter, who held her breath watching the exchange and hoping it didn’t get worse before it ended. But she didn’t try to stop it and her mother hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. Rose turned to Nadia then, gave her another hug, and ignored her son-in-law, as though he was no longer worthy of her notice. She would have liked to say much harsher things to him but didn’t want to do it in front of her daughter. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said to Nadia.
“Thank you again for coming, Mom. It was wonderful,” she said. Rose picked up her bag and walked past Nicolas with a last wilting look, opened the door, and left, as he stood there for a moment, shaken by her words. The contempt in her eyes had tied his stomach in a knot.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she’d still be here. I want to talk to you about the summer.”
“Why didn’t you call me? She’s right. You shouldn’t just show up. Are you planning to stay here tonight?” He shook his head. He had thought of it, but he didn’t want to now. And Nadia was looking at him differently than she had before her mother had been there. “Maybe it’s time for you to get an apartment,” Nadia said in a low voice so the girls didn’t hear her. She and Nicolas were still standing in the entrance hall, and she didn’t seem as though she wanted him to come in.
“You won’t be in town. I can stay here if I need to while you’re at the château. And I hope to have things worked out, or at least some kind of plan, by the end of the summer.” Nadia didn’t comment. She didn’t want to argue with him. The baby was due in October. And her mother had almost convinced her to see a lawyer, just to get some advice. “I’m not coming to the château for the first two weeks in July. I’m going to visit friends in the South of France. That will give you some time alone with the girls.” He said it as though he were doing her a favor, and she could guess where he would be, and with
whom. The paparazzi all over the Riviera would out them quickly anyway. There were no secrets in that part of the world, not for people as recognizable and well known as he and Pascale were. They were everybody’s prime prey now, and favorite topic of conversation.
“Why don’t we take turns at the château this summer? That makes more sense than our being there together,” Nadia said coldly. She felt braver now since her mother’s visit. Rose’s strength was contagious. It was just what Nadia needed. Before her mother came, she had felt defeated, now she didn’t. Her mother was her strongest ally.
“And how will you explain that to Sylvie and Laure?” Nicolas answered.
“That we’re taking a break from each other? Or would you rather tell them about Pascale and the baby and make a clean breast of it?” Nadia said tartly.
“You sound just like your mother,” he said with an angry expression. “We can think of something to tell them. They don’t need to know the whole story yet.”
“You’ll have to tell them before the baby comes,” she said in a whisper, “or the press will do it for you.”
“Not if we’re back together,” he said with a pleading look, which she ignored. Talking to him made her feel crazy. She felt sane now after her mother’s visit and didn’t want to spoil it.
“Thank you for letting me know about July. I think you’d better go now,” she said, and he slowly walked toward the door, and then turned to look at her, still standing there, watching to make sure he left.
“Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, Nadia. A lot of it is just garbage.”
“They seem to be writing about you pretty accurately these days. And my mother’s right. It’s pure trailer trash. You’re not writing a novel. This is real life. Our life.” He couldn’t think of a response so he walked out the door and closed it quietly behind him. As he rode down in the elevator, he felt faintly schizophrenic, but at least he had told her that he wouldn’t be at the château in July. He had promised Pascale he’d tell her. He had just rented a house for the summer in Ramatuelle, with Pascale, so she could be there as much as she wanted, and he would join her off and on. It was close to Saint-Tropez, and the paparazzi wouldn’t find them there as quickly. They had rented a secluded villa over the weekend, and Pascale was thrilled. It was what she had wanted, and he gave in to her, to appease her, since he hadn’t left Nadia yet. He felt relieved when he drove away, but he was still smarting from Rose’s words. She hadn’t missed her mark and had struck him to the core with every single one. And worse, he knew she was right. She was always smart and fair and honest, and so was her daughter. He realized that Nadia was being very decent under the circumstances, more than he deserved.
* * *
—
Rose called Nadia from the airport before she boarded her flight to New York.
“What was all that about? He shouldn’t come in and out like that as if everything is normal and he still lives there, even if he does spend the night occasionally. He doesn’t even call you first?” Rose was incensed by Nicolas’s behavior, his entitlement and presumptuousness, and how selfish he was being.
“He told me he wasn’t coming to the château for the first two weeks in July. He says he’s staying with friends in the South. I assume that means Pascale. But it will give me time to think.”
“He couldn’t send you an email or a text to tell you that? He had to deliver the message in person?” Rose said, annoyed.
“He probably wanted to spend the night. But I told him to go, after you left. It’s just too easy for him like this. He probably went right back to her as soon as he walked out the door. When I don’t let him stay, it just drives him right back to her.”
“Tell him to act like a man and get an apartment,” Rose said firmly.
“I just did. This is all new territory for me, Mom. There are no ground rules here.”
“Maybe there should be. That’s why you need to see a lawyer.”
“I will,” Nadia said with a sigh. Like it or not, she knew it was time. Her mother was right. Maybe she’d invite her sisters to visit her in July. She wished her mother a good flight and went to check on the girls. They were playing peacefully in their room, and Nadia went to stand on the terrace. She looked down at the river drifting by, with barges and boats full of tourists. The Eiffel Tower was lit and sparkling. It was odd how it all looked the same, but everything in her life had changed in the last month, and she knew that nothing would ever be the same again. She doubted that her heart and her feelings for Nicolas would ever recover.
Chapter 4
Ironically, the first meeting of the day on Monday—when Rose got to her office punctually, although she had gotten home late and only slept a few hours, worried about Nadia—was about Pascale Solon on the September cover. The decision needed to be made of who was going to style it, which meant working with both the photographer and the subject, being involved in the choice of wardrobe, and everything that went with it, including the hair and makeup. The beauty editor would participate too. They were trying to decide if they wanted to go “soft and romantic” or do something more hard-edged and sexier. Pascale’s sensual, sometimes punky look lent itself better to the latter.
“No nudity, please,” Rose said firmly. “There’s enough going on there, we don’t need to be blatant about it, nor should she. We’re Mode. We don’t need to see nipple rings or her Brazilian bikini wax. I want her dressed, and to keep this all about fashion, not her sex life,” or Rose’s son-in-law’s, although she didn’t say that. They eventually agreed on which designer’s clothes she would wear, and the look they decided to go for was contemporary, youthful, gutsy, bold, without ever being offensive or too sexual. Rose made it clear that she wanted to keep the interview above the waterline too: her recent success, her big movie, the next role she was going to play, her goals for her career. “Let’s keep it as professional as possible,” Rose said with her work face on.
“Obviously, we’re going to mention the affair with Nicolas Bateau in the interview. And the baby?” Charity asked her.
“Let’s stay off the baby. Things happen. We don’t want to have to pull the interview if something goes wrong with the pregnancy. We’re not a maternity magazine either. And let’s shoot her now before it shows much.” She was five months pregnant, tall, thin, and in great shape. They still had a few more weeks before the pregnancy became apparent. “The interviewer can mention Nicolas, but I want it strictly to be in passing, and no lurid details. Don’t open that door,” Rose said sternly to the staff writer who had been assigned to write the story and who was only a few years older than Pascale. They thought she would easily relate to Pascale. It was not going to be a deep, intellectual piece.
“We’re going to interview him with her for part of the article, aren’t we?” Charity pressed the point, feigning innocence, and Rose turned her blue X-ray eyes on her.
“No, we are not. I already vetoed that, and you know it. He’s not on the cover with her or part of the interview, except in passing, as I said. If he wants an interview about their affair, he can do it for another magazine. We’re not interested. May I remind you again, Charity, he is a married man, still living with his wife and young children. I’m not going to showcase the affair and turn it into a love story. He cheated on his wife and got a young woman pregnant. We’ve already heard more about it in the tabloids than any of us wants to know. For our purposes, it stops there. I am not interviewing him for Mode. I won’t allow it. Is that clear?” Her voice rose a notch and everyone in the room fell silent, except Charity, who was fuming. She had won the battle to get Pascale on the cover, now she wanted to make it a clean sweep and interview Nicolas too, which would be much more interesting. He was brilliant, and his novels were hugely successful. He would be a better interview subject and together they’d be on fire. But Rose was not budging. She made it clear that mutiny would not be tolerated. She fel
t perfectly comfortable holding her ground. They had standards to uphold about what they endorsed and what they didn’t. Pascale and Nicolas’s illicit liaison was well over that line for her, even if Nadia weren’t her daughter.
“I don’t find stories about cheaters romantic. And I hope you don’t either. You can always write it on spec and freelance it elsewhere, but not here. I want this interview clean, strong, and about two subjects: her career and her views on fashion. The rest is off limits.” Charity knew when she was beaten, and finally retreated and slumped in her chair like an angry schoolgirl who had been reprimanded by the teacher. And Rose had already been pushed to her limits, and would go no further.
Charity was still stewing about it when she went back to her office and asked her assistant for an Advil and a cup of tea.
“Rough meeting?” her new assistant asked and Charity rolled her eyes.
“The boss wants us to stay off any hot topics with Pascale Solon when we shoot her. And I’m not doing the interview, I’m just styling her. Rose wants her lily pure. She’s got the wrong girl for that, and the readers don’t expect her to be a virgin or act like one. She’s having a baby with a married man, for chrissake, and she does full-on frontal nudity in all her films. Rose has her confused with the Virgin Mary.” Charity’s assistant, Betty, hesitated for a minute before she went to get the Advil and tea. She seemed as though she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if she should.
“Something up?” Charity asked her, sensing that Betty had more to say.
“I…not really…this is probably really out of line, and I shouldn’t say anything.” She looked flustered and nervous, not sure if she’d get in trouble. She hadn’t worked for Charity for long and didn’t know how she’d react or what she’d do with the information. “My mother is a decorator. She does a lot of jobs in Europe for American clients. She knows Rose’s daughter, who lives there. She’s an interior designer too. Nadia McCarthy.”
The Affair Page 6
