Impossible

by Danielle Steel

  On Saturday, as they walked down the beach, she told him she was invited to a party, and asked him if he'd like to come. It was being given by a well-known Hollywood actress. The movie set had recently discovered the Hamptons, and Sasha had met her two years before through friends. She had received the invitation the month before, and Marcie had reminded her of it on Friday, before Sasha left. It sounded like fun. It was supposed to be a big clambake, with entertainment and a band. When she told Liam about it, he looked surprised at the invitation. She had never invited him to a party before, and he knew she'd been reluctant to do so.

  “You want me to come?” He was flattered. She had never offered to take him to any other social event before. This was a first.

  “Yes” was all she said, without explanation. He didn't question her further.

  The party began at seven, and they arrived at eight. The invitation had said informal, but Sasha knew that some of the women might dress up a bit. She wore white slacks, a white silk sweater, and a string of pearls, with her hair in a loose bun. Liam wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a blazer she had brought for him, without telling him why she had, along with a pair of loafers she had found in his closet in the guestroom.

  “And you don't have to wear socks,” she teased him. “It's considered fashionable here if you don't.”

  “Then maybe I should. I'd hate to start being fashionable now.” He had taken great pleasure all his life in swimming against the tides.

  In the end, he didn't, and they both fit right in. They made a striking couple, and Liam admitted to her in a whisper that it was impressive meeting their movie star hostess and her famous friends. There were at least a dozen faces there that anyone in the world would have recognized at first glance.

  “I wish I could tell someone,” he whispered. But the only person he had to tell was her.

  “It always impresses me too to meet people like that,” Sasha confessed.

  They stayed until nearly one in the morning, danced to the band that had been flown in from L.A., and they both looked happy and tired when they got back to the house. He had been a perfect gentleman all night, and she had felt totally comfortable with him. Several of the women there had been with much younger men, with far greater age differences than hers and Liam's. It was the rage in Hollywood for older women to date younger men. She commented on it to Liam as they got into bed.

  “I told you I hate being trendy,” he said, looking unconcerned. He had had a terrific time, and was proud to be out with her. “Besides, nine years is no big deal.”

  “Maybe not to you,” she said with a giggle as she snuggled next to him and he turned off the light. “I'm not sure my kids would feel that way.” And on bad days, neither did she.

  “When am I going to meet Tatianna?” he asked in the darkness.

  “Probably at the opening this week. She doesn't always come, but she said she would this time.”

  “Do you think she'll like me?”

  “Maybe. It's hard to tell. Tatianna is tough to predict. She has strong opinions. She loves some people, and others she hates. It'll go a lot better if she doesn't know you're involved with me.” She had no intention of telling either of her children for the moment. It was none of their business. She and Liam were still taking their relationship out for a spin. They hadn't decided to make a down payment on it yet. But so far they were doing well. Even she had to admit it, although she had doubted it was possible. So far so good.

  Chapter 13

  Liam was excited about the show at her gallery that week. It was going to give him a sense of what they'd be doing for him in six months. And he liked the artist whose show it was. He was a young man from Minnesota whom Sasha had discovered at the art fair in Chicago the year before. He did powerful, provoking work. She had been at the gallery till two in the morning the night before, hanging his paintings, standing back and looking at them, then moving them around again, until she liked it. She was a perfectionist in all things.

  Liam had stuck around till midnight to watch her do it. She was so lost in thought and concentration, she hardly talked to him, and finally he left. He was sound asleep in her bed when she got home.

  The next day Sasha was at the gallery all day. She showered and changed her clothes there, and was greeting guests when Liam walked in for the party at six o'clock. She looked beautiful in a white linen suit, in stark contrast to her jet-black hair, dark eyes, and summer tan. Her eyes were a deep sable brown, and sometimes looked almost black. She smiled at him the moment she saw him walk in. She introduced him to the artist, and several more people, and then left him to greet others. He was wearing black slacks, a white shirt, his loafers, no socks, no jacket or tie. But in the uptown arty group, what he had worn seemed appropriate and didn't stand out. The artists wore all manner of dress, her clients wore suits and ties. There were several well-known models there, a famous photographer, who bought her work frequently. Writers, playwrights, art critics, museum people, and others who just came for the free ride and the champagne and hors d'oeuvres. It was a standard New York art opening, only better, because Suvery Gallery was top of the line.

  Tatianna walked in at eight o'clock, the crowd was thinning out by then, but there were still plenty of people scattered through the exhibition rooms. She was on her way to dinner somewhere, and came because she had said she'd stop by. Her mother's openings were old hat to her. She was wearing a simple turquoise silk summer dress and sexy high-heeled silver sandals, and she looked striking as she walked in. With her halo of almost-white blond hair and big blue eyes, she looked nothing like her mother. Liam saw her stop to talk to Sasha and wondered instantly who she was, and then he saw her kiss her mother, as the two women exchanged a warm hug. He knew then it was her daughter, but nothing about their appearances, nor their style, would have suggested to anyone that they were related. Tatianna was slinky and sexy, and everything about her was standoffish and cool. Sasha was far warmer and more animated, introducing people to each other, smiling, and talking. The essence of Sasha was warm and inviting. To Liam, the core of Tatianna seemed cold. Sasha had told him that Tatianna was shy. She stood apart from everyone for a moment, as her eyes swept the room. He could tell from looking at her that she was used to men admiring her. At twenty-four, striking in her youth and beauty, she was at the height of her game. Her mother was much humbler, and although she was striking too, part of her charm was that she was unaware of her beauty, and always had been. Sasha had tremendous charisma and charm. Liam found Tatianna daunting, just watching her from the distance. He kept his eyes on her as people came to talk to her, and then as though sensing him, she turned her head and her eyes met his. He had the feeling she didn't like him, even from across the room.

  He waited a while before going over to talk to her, so she wouldn't suspect anything. He didn't want to appear anxious, or as though he were pursuing her.

  He nearly bumped into her as he walked by her, and helped himself to an hors d'oeuvre from a passing tray. She was standing, looking aloof, while three young men crowded around her, and she sipped a glass of champagne. He decided to join the group.

  “Hello,” he said pleasantly, “I'm Liam Allison. Nice show, isn't it?” She looked at him as though he had said something rude. Everything about her body language told him not to enter her space. Sasha was far more nurturing and welcomed people in. She was the consummate mother.

  “Yes, it is,” Tatianna said, seeming indifferent to him. “Are you an artist?” He looked like one, almost everyone there did, and she had met a lot of them in the course of her life. She wasn't easy to impress.

  “Yes, I am. I'm having a show here in December.”

  “What kind of work?” He explained his theories to her, and suspected she hadn't listened to a word, which would have been correct. She had heard it all before. She seemed to lack her mother's innocence, vitality, and excitement about life. He liked Sasha a whole lot better. Independent of his relationship with her mother, he would never have pursued th
is girl. She was far too cool and snooty for him. And he was far too old and arty looking for her. The men she went out with were preppy and traditional, and most of them worked on Wall Street. She thought the men she met in the art scene, even at her mother's gallery, were self-centered jerks. She assumed the same about him. With only a few words of conversation between them, they took an instant dislike to each other. In an effort to warm things up a little, if only for Sasha's sake, he mentioned that he knew her brother. She nodded, and seemed not to care. She realized then that she'd heard his name before, but Xavier always had crazy, badly behaved friends. Tatianna didn't.

  A few minutes later, Sasha arrived to join them. She had seen them circling each other, and was worried. Tatianna looked annoyed, never a good sign. Liam looked curious about her, and Sasha was afraid he would give it away if he asked her too many questions, or was too friendly. Tatianna seemed to suspect nothing. She just didn't want to get to know him, and there was no reason why she should, that she knew of.

  “Have you two met?” Sasha asked, appearing casual, as she put an arm around her daughter and stood apart from Liam, looking like an art dealer and a mother, and nothing more. And surely not his woman.

  “Yes, we have,” Liam said with a warm smile at Sasha, which her eyes returned.

  “Liam is one of our artists and a friend of Xavier's from London. That's how I met him. He scouted him for us. He's having a show in December. What are you up to tonight?” Sasha asked Tatianna. She looked beautiful, undeniably, but Sasha hated it when you could see her body through her dress, which one could. But she looked no different from the other young women at the party. These days they all dressed like that at her age. It always made Sasha nervous, but she said nothing. Tatianna was old enough to wear what she wanted, and do as she chose.

  “I'm having dinner at Pastis, with friends,” Tatianna said vaguely, and glanced at her watch. It was a small diamond one her father had given her on his last Christmas.

  “It was nice of you to come uptown for this, sweetheart,” Sasha said with a warm smile. She knew Tatianna did almost nothing on the Upper East Side, except for work. Like most people her age, her entire social life was downtown.

  “I said I would.” Tatianna smiled at her mother. You could tell that the two women were close, although very different. Tatianna respected her a great deal, even if she didn't like meeting her artists. She was impressed by what her mother did, and proud of her for expanding the empire her grandfather had built. Tatianna still remembered him. He had always scared her when they lived in Paris. Xavier had liked him better.

  “We're having dinner at La Goulue,” Sasha said casually. It was one of her favorite places, and Tatianna wasn't surprised. It was close to the gallery, the food was good, and it was full of life, and trendy people. She had already taken Liam there, and he liked it a lot.

  Tatianna left a few minutes later, and after she did, Sasha came back to talk to Liam.

  “So did you two hit it off?” She looked slightly worried. They had looked like two dogs circling each other right up until Tatianna left.

  “She's beautiful,” Liam said honestly. No one could have denied that. “A little scary, though. I don't think she likes me.”

  “Don't be put off by her. That's just her style. Men approach her constantly, she wears a lot of armor.” And fangs, Liam thought, but he would never have said it to her mother. He had taken a visceral dislike to her. She seemed like a spoiled brat to him. Xavier was a whole different kind of being. But even their friendship had done nothing to impress her. Liam was convinced nothing would.

  They left for dinner after that. Sasha had invited a number of people she thought he'd enjoy, along with the artist whose show it was. There were fourteen of them for dinner at a long table at La Goulue, where everyone fussed over them, and Sasha. She kept a motherly eye on everyone, and saw to it that every detail was attended to, and everyone had a good time. Her caring manner defined what Liam loved about her. She was warm and nurturing and attentive to everyone. Girls like her daughter were only interested in themselves. Sasha made a real effort to make Liam feel important, comfortable, and welcome, and he loved her for it. It was what he needed most from her.

  Nothing in her behavior that night suggested to anyone that there was something going on between them. She gave nothing away, not a look or a touch, or anything she said. She made it clear that he was important to her as an artist, and nothing else, and she was the attentive dealer. She was every bit as kind to the others as she was to him. He complimented her on it when they got back to her apartment, where he felt totally at home now. Tatianna would have been incensed to see him sprawled out, smoking a cigar, in her father's favorite chair in their bedroom. But fortunately, she couldn't see it. To Tatianna, everything that had been her father's was sacred, including her mother. She had frequently said that she was glad Sasha wasn't dating and hoped she never would. Her older brother was far more realistic. All he wanted was for their mother to be happy, whatever and whoever it took.

  “Sasha, you are amazing,” Liam said, smiling at her through his smoke rings. She even let him smoke there, and said she liked the smell, which in fact, she did. Arthur had also had a fondness for good Cubans. “The opening was terrific. You managed to make everyone feel important, even me. Hotchkiss loved it.” Hotchkiss was the artist they'd been showing. “He felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. He kept telling me how lucky I am to be represented by you, and he doesn't know the half of it.” Liam laughed, and so did she.

  “I'm glad you enjoyed it,” she said, looking genuinely pleased. She was a hands-on dealer, particularly with him. But it was her style to be totally involved with both her artists and her clients. She loved what she did, and was brilliant at it.

  “Who wouldn't?” he said, admiring her as she put on her nightgown. She was totally at ease with him, and felt as though she had been living with him for years. “Tatianna scared me,” he confessed, as he finished his cigar, and Sasha got into bed and looked at him.

  “Don't be silly. She's just a kid. That's the way she is. She's very cool. She was very attached to her father, and she's very possessive about me. I told you, she's very black and white about things. But her glare is worse than her bite. She probably thought you were just another horny artist, lusting after her. I wish she didn't wear those dresses, though. It's no wonder men stalk her.”

  “She's knock-out looking,” he conceded, but he wasn't nearly as blithe about her as her mother. Sasha obviously knew her better. “She's so different from Xavier. He would talk to a homeless person and make him feel like a king. I felt like dirt under her feet.” It was a slight exaggeration, but not by much, and Sasha was sorry to hear it.

  “She's a little spoiled, from all the attention she gets. She looked pretty tonight.”

  “She is pretty.” But her icy style turned him off. Sasha was a brightly burning candle, lit from within. Tatianna was an iceberg, or looked that way to him.

  “She's a lot like my father. He was scary, too, although I think you would have liked him.” She also knew her father would have had no interest whatsoever in his work. Emerging artists had never been his thing, right to the end, although he liked the profits her pet passion had brought them. But he had never understood or cared for the work.

  “What are we doing tomorrow?” Liam asked, as he got into bed with her. He had a certain look in his eye, and designs on her body, to which she was not opposed. They had made her bed their own.

  “I thought we'd go out to the Hamptons,” Sasha said as he folded her into his arms.

  “Sounds good to me,” he said, and then kissed her in the dark.

  “It does to me, too,” she whispered as she kissed him back, and then forgot everything but him.

  She went to the gallery the next day, was pleased with the reviews for the show, and they left for Southampton after dinner. They bought groceries on the way and got there at ten o'clock. They sat on the porch, talking for a while, while Liam a
te ice cream, and they chatted about nothing in particular. They went to bed early, made love again, got up and went for a walk on the beach the next morning. They were settling into an easy, comfortable way of life. And that afternoon, sitting on the beach, he talked about moving his studio to Paris, maybe in the fall. It would be easier than commuting from London every weekend, which was tiring, and expensive for him. And he wanted to be close to her during the week.

  They both knew that sooner or later, people would find out about them. Bernard already had. But Liam was not trying to shove his way into her life. He accepted that their lives and lifestyles were different, but what they had shared so far felt great to him. This was definitely possible, for both of them. He thought it was terrific, and Sasha was slowly but surely becoming convinced. Contrary to her fears in the beginning, it was not impossible at all.

  They went to a movie in Southampton that night, and were cozily tucked into bed afterward, giggling and talking, when they both heard a sound. It sounded like someone downstairs, and they thought it was an intruder.

  “Do you have a panic button on the alarm?” he whispered to her, and she shook her head.

  “I have a thing somewhere, but I don't know where it is,” she whispered back. They could definitely hear someone moving around, and then heard a step on the stairs. Liam glanced around her moonlit bedroom, grabbed a poker from the fireplace, and yanked her bedroom door open, as they heard a step right outside. And as he pulled the door toward him, he flipped on the light, and stood in her bedroom doorway, stark naked, with the poker in his hand. He found himself less than a foot from Tatianna, staring at him with a stunned expression. There was a young man just behind her, on the landing. She screamed the moment she saw Liam, and so did he. It was a scene beyond belief. The young man with her took a step toward him, as Sasha leaped out of bed and came to stand right behind Liam. She was also naked, and astounded to see her daughter. Tatianna had said nothing about using the house that weekend. She thought her mother no longer went there at all. Sasha hadn't mentioned her recent trips there, and had no desire to explain Liam's presence in her life.