She wiped her hand across her eyes. “After a few months I couldn’t stand it anymore. I refused and he didn’t press it. He just left me up there in that awful house. I was going crazy all alone. I couldn’t go home, so I started running off to the city by myself, staying in hotels just to get away.”
Adam gathered her into his arms. He held her silently for a long time.
“I’ve had lovers, Adam,” she said. “No one I cared about, nothing that lasted long.” She paused. “I had to tell you, Adam. Please don’t hate me for it. I was lonely and needed someone to make me feel clean and normal.”
Conflicting emotions careened through Adam. A stab of jealousy toward the faceless lovers. But the pain in Elizabeth’s eyes finally left him with only a strong protective urge. And rage toward Willis Reed.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Forget about Reed. You’re with me now.” He held her until he could hear her breathing become deep and even.
“Why do people do it,” she murmured, before she slipped into sleep, “why do people marry the wrong person?”
“They have their reasons,” Adam said. “Reasons that always seem right at the time.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Six months after their marriage, a handsome cotton rag envelope arrived addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Adam Bryant. Elizabeth opened it and asked Adam, “Who is Enid Atherton?”
“Queen of the social butterflies,” Adam said. “She probably wants a donation for one of her charities.”
“Actually, she wants us,” Elizabeth said. “It’s an invitation to a post-opera party.”
Adam read the invitation. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said with a smirk.
“Let’s go, Adam,” Elizabeth said.
“You can’t be serious.”
She put her arms around him. “Please,” she said. “I’d like an excuse to dress up for you.”
Adam had planned to take Elizabeth to the opera opening, but the last thing he wanted to do was go to a party afterward. But he saw the eager look in Elizabeth’s eyes and felt guilty. He had been spending so much time at work, and she was surely restless, cooped up in the house alone most of the day. It would be good for her to get out and meet people.
He stared at Enid’s name on the invitation, feeling a small surge of satisfaction. “Of course we’ll go,” he said. “And I want you to buy a new dress. I will be with the most beautiful woman in the world, and I want everyone to see her.”
At the opera, Adam sat proudly at Elizabeth’s side in his box. People stared up at them and whispered, and he tilted his chin higher. He was well aware that right from the start his marriage to Elizabeth had created a furor, generating columns of type in Eastern newspapers. One New York tabloid headlined it “Mrs. Reed’s Gold-Rushed Romance.” Most accounts in the East had politely referred to Adam as the owner of the San Francisco Times. But the implication was clear that the twenty-seven-year-old heiress had married beneath her.
Until now, Adam had been unaware that he also had become a curiosity in his own town, especially among the social elite. His divorce and remarriage had given him an air of notoriety. There were a few people who dismissed him as a parvenu. But most were intrigued, even a bit proud, of the handsome San Franciscan who had risen from nothing to capture Elizabeth Ingram Reed, the flower of one of the Old South’s most illustrious clans. San Franciscans had a healthy respect for epic romances and mavericks, and Adam suddenly found his life and himself recast in those roles.
After the opera, when he and Elizabeth entered Enid Atherton’s drawing room, all eyes focused on them. Adam recognized a few of the people who Lilith had played up to for so many years, people who had always snubbed him. They were staring at him...and Elizabeth.
He felt her fingers tighten on his arm.
“Courage,” she whispered, and led the way into the room.
He watched her as she began to easily work through the crowd, smiling warmly, introducing herself and Adam. He held back, taking his cues from her. She drew appreciative stares from all the men and envy from the women. She was wearing a fluid white satin gown by the French designer Vionnet, a spectacular dress that subtly reflected every undulation of her body. It was provocative among all the demure silks and correct brocades. She wore her hair pulled up and no jewelry except her wedding band. No other woman looked so elegant.
Soon, Enid Atherton came up to them. The woman was about forty with hard gray eyes that missed nothing. She was the city’s biggest arts patron, the woman who controlled entry into the city’s elite inner circle. She leveled her steely eyes at Elizabeth and smiled.
“I know your aunt, and I’ve wanted to meet you for some time, my dear,” Enid said. “I should have extended an invitation sooner.”
“We’re delighted to be here,” Elizabeth said.
“Did you enjoy the performance tonight?” Enid asked.
“Very much.” Elizabeth took Adam’s arm. “But I know so little about opera, really. My husband is teaching me. He lives for it, I think.”
Enid gave Adam a stare. “Yes, he must, to have gotten a lifetime box.” She smiled. “Perhaps we can convince you to become a patron now, too, Mr. Bryant. Art, after all, does not come cheap.”
Adam smiled. “Nothing does that’s worth having.”
Enid’s smile widened. “Then I’ll have one of my guild people contact you.” She looked at Elizabeth. “Perhaps you might join the guild, dear. We’d love to have you.” She glanced around. “I must see to my other guests. Enjoy yourself, you two.” And she waltzed off with a rustle of satin and click of pearls.
“Did I just spend money?” Adam asked.
“Think of it as an investment in your future,” Elizabeth said, smiling.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After Enid’s party, other invitations quickly followed. Adam found he had entree to people and places he had never had when he had been married to Lilith. He knew the invitations came because hostesses wanted to put the glamorous couple on display.
“We’re salon circus freaks,” he told Elizabeth. But secretly, he enjoyed the attention. He liked mingling with the wealthy and famous in grand homes. He liked the splendid food and wine. But most of all, he liked showing off his beautiful wife.
People were attracted to Elizabeth, responding to her uncomplicated, open nature, her kindness and good humor. Everyone seemed to draw energy from her.
Even Adam felt it. He was changing, in some subtle but important way. Slowly, he was emerging from inside himself. All his life, he had been content to be a mere spectator. Now, he longed to be a celebrant.
A little more than a year after their marriage, they found themselves at another affair given by Enid. This time, Adam moved through the crowd with a feeling of belonging.
“So, Bryant, what do you think? Are we going to find ourselves in another war?”
Adam turned his attention back to the small circle of men. “I think it’s a real possibility,” he said. “Washington has recalled our envoys from Berlin.”
“I think we should stay out of it,” one man said. “Let the Jews fight their own battles.”
“But the Nazis are getting a bit out of hand,” another said. “Last month, when they smashed all those windows. What’d they call it? Crystal...”
“Kristallnacht,” Adam said. “More than ninety people killed.”
“They brought it on themselves,” the first man said with a wave of his hand. “That Jew kid killed a German politician, for crissake. And we’re the ones who’re going to have to send our kids over to fight their battles.”
Adam stared at the man, refusing to take the bait. After a few heated minutes, talk returned to the mundane details of business.
“Say, Bryant, the old Times looks pretty healthy these days,” one of the men said. “Pretty fat with ads.”
“I certainly give it enough money every week,” said another man, who owned a chain of department stores.
“Circulation’s growing steadily,” Adam sai
d.
“You know, Bryant, you should think about expanding, like that fellow Hearst down in L.A. Buy a couple other little rags somewhere. A man can’t make his mark these days thinking small. You’ve certainly got access to the capital.”
“It’s a thought,” Adam said tersely.
The man went on to talk about how he had commandeered his own store into a chain. But Adam was not listening. He had not missed the man's reference to Elizabeth’s fortune, nor the condescension implied in his advice. Slowly, Adam’s good spirits began to dissipate as he looked at the older men’s expressions of self-satisfaction.
They don’t consider me in their league, he thought. They tolerate me not for my successes but because of my marriage.
After a moment, he excused himself and went out onto the terrace.
He leaned against a pillar, alone in the dark for a long time. He heard a laugh and recognized it as Elizabeth’s. He saw her coming out onto the terrace with two older women, and drew back into the shadows, not wanting to face her.
One of the women, a dour matron, was talking about marriage and she seemed determined to spoil Elizabeth’s mood. “It’s so important to marry the right person,” the woman said.
“Yes, indeed,” Elizabeth said.
“One can’t be too careful these days,” the woman went on, “about finding a man of distinction and good standing. One wouldn’t want to be taken advantage of, I would think.”
“No, indeed,” Elizabeth said.
The old woman leveled her gaze at Elizabeth. “Perhaps you can help with something, my dear. I’ve heard some people say that your marriage is not a very brilliant match for you.” She smiled. “What in the world should I tell them?”
Elizabeth looked the woman in the eye and smiled back. “Tell them that it is a match of the heart. How can anything be more brilliant than that?”
Adam stood in the shadows for a long time, until after Elizabeth and the women had gone back inside. Conflicting emotions coursed through him. He felt angry and humiliated over the woman’s insult. Like the man’s remark earlier, it stirred in him a passion to fight to prove his worthiness. But there was another emotion churning inside him, a dirty little feeling of shame, illuminated clearly now by the light of Elizabeth’s stunning retort to the woman. He felt suddenly small and unworthy.
He loved Elizabeth, but it was partly for what she could do for him —- for her wealth, her position, for what she could help him become. But she loved him purely for what he was, right now.
He moved out from behind the pillar and stood there, staring at the brightly lit room beyond the terrace doors. He spotted Elizabeth but could not move to go in. So he remained outside, watching her through the glass.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was Christmas Eve, and the office was dark and quiet. Adam was the only one left in the executive suite. He had stayed to go over some business after calling Elizabeth and telling her not to wait up. He picked up a memo. It was from Josh Hillman, and it detailed the dismissal of a minor libel suit against the Times.
Adam marked it to be filed and put it aside, thinking of what an asset Josh had become. Adam had hired him not long after the divorce, getting rid of the overpriced law firm that the Bickfords had used for decades. Josh had proven to be not only an excellent lawyer, but was also becoming a trusted general counsel.
Adam turned his attention to a thick folder that had arrived late that day. It was a research report he had ordered about the rival Journal, and the news was not good.
During the past year, the Journal expanded its circulation to the new parts of the city in the south. Adam had had no choice but to follow course, and now the Times and the Journal were locked in a costly circulation war. To make matters worse, the Sacramento paper that Adam had bought had still not turned around and its improvements had come at the expense of the Times’ revenues. Adam couldn’t afford to keep siphoning money from the Times; its profit margin had shrunk to its lowest since Bickford had run the newspaper.
Adam tossed the folder aside and picked up a second one. It was a market study of two family-owned newspapers in San Diego and Seattle. Adam had ordered the study six months ago to determine the potential of the struggling newspapers. The report confirmed his hunches. The papers were poorly managed but located in growing markets.
Adam knew they could be turned into gold mines, without much initial investment. It was a surer bet than Sacramento. The two newspapers were ripe for takeovers, ideal to become strong links in the Bryant newspaper chain.
Adam put the report down with a sigh. He had tried to borrow money from banks, using the Times as collateral, but its profit margin was too low. For the first time in his life, Adam felt truly discouraged. There it was —- opportunity, right in front of him. And no money to take advantage of it.
He glanced at his watch. It was after eleven. He stuffed the reports in his briefcase and started for home.
It was raining and red-and-green Christmas lights reflected off the patent-leather streets. As he drove up the hill toward Jackson Street, Adam tried to put his dispirited thoughts behind him. He was always careful not to bring the office home. Home was Elizabeth, the only thing that took his mind off everything else.
Upstairs, he was surprised to see the light on in the bedroom. He opened the door softly.
Elizabeth was sitting on a window seat, staring out at the rain. She was wearing a robe of thin white silk, and her hair was arranged in a haphazard way on her head.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said.
He went over and kissed her. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I wanted to.” She slid off the window seat and Adam’s eyes were drawn to her bare legs. She slipped off his jacket and loosened his tie.
“Damn you, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you,” she said, smiling.
“About what?”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” she said. She used his tie to pull him toward her lips. She kissed him deeply, pressing her body into his. “Sometimes I think when you’re in the office, you forget about the rest of the world,” she said.
“Not all of it,” he said.
“Well, you’ve forgotten that you always give me my gift on Christmas Eve.”
He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out a small black velvet case. With a laugh, she took it and opened it. Inside was an antique jade cat. “Adam, it’s beautiful,” she said, turning it over in her fingers.
“It’s the same color as your eyes.”
“I love it,” she said.
He began to unbutton his shirt. “Well, it’s not a diamond necklace,” he said with a small laugh.
“Adam, I said I love it.” She placed it carefully on the bedside table and laid down on the bed on her stomach, staring at it. He glanced over at her, the excitement rising slowly inside him. She turned over and her robe fell slightly open.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, smiling.
He laughed. He was never quite sure if her sexuality was purely ingenuous or part of an artful plan. He was never sure of anything with her, except that she loved him. Before he could answer, she went to a small table, set with dinnerware and candles. “I knew you would probably forget to eat tonight,” she said, as she lit the candles and poured two glasses of champagne. “So I had something prepared for you.”
“I want only one thing right now —- you.”
Elizabeth looked at him for a moment, then with a smile, picked up a glass of champagne and sat down on the bed. She set the glass aside and let her robe fall to her waist. She was wearing nothing underneath it.
Adam stared at her breasts for a moment then took a step toward her.
“No,” Elizabeth said. “I want you to unless in front of me...slowly.”
Adam began to take off his clothes. Elizabeth reached over, dipped two fingers in her champagne and then ran them lightly over her nipples. Adam stood before her, naked.
“I want to watch you get hard,” Elizabeth said. She pushed aside
the robe and ran her fingers slowly down her body, past her stomach. She spread her legs, touching the insides of her thighs, then the mound of soft red hair. Adam watched her, stunned. He had never seen her touch herself before. He assumed it was something she would never do, considering what Reed had forced her to do. Her expression, as she looked at him now, was one of complete trust. Aroused, he took his penis in his hand. Their eyes were locked on each other as they stroked themselves.
“I’m so wet,” she whispered. “I want you now.”
Adam went to her and lowered himself, easing himself inside her. “I love being in you,” he whispered.
“Go deeper.”
Adam plunged and she let out a sharp cry. With each stroke Adam withdrew almost completely and went back in as far as he could. Their climaxes came at the same time, leaving them limp in each other’s arms.
Adam lay on top of Elizabeth, softly kissing her neck and face. Then, as he felt himself grow soft inside her, he slowly withdrew. He rolled to his side, drawing her into his arms. They lay there for a while, Elizabeth lightly stroking his chest.
“Now I am hungry,” Adam said.
“But not for me now,” she said, touching him playfully.
He laughed. “Maybe. But first, some food.”
While he ate dinner, she listened to him talk about Josh and the lawsuit and the circulation war. He considered telling her about the newspapers in San Diego and Seattle but didn’t. He had discovered that she was very intuitive about his moods and might pick up on his worries about money. So he listened as she entertained him with anecdotes about her day. She was a talented mimic and made him laugh with her imitations of Enid and the other women of the opera guild.
But mainly, he just watched her. The graceful sweep of her expressive hands. The shimmer of candlelight on her skin and in her green eyes. Her mouth. Her throat. The blush that spread down her throat and across her chest as she laughed and drank.
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