The Seduction Of Claudia
Page 21
"Andrew, come in. What a pleasant surprise," he exclaimed, extending his hand to Andrew. He pulled Andrew into a half-hug and a handshake.
"The damned computer is giving me fits again," he complained. "But computers are like women, can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em," he finished roguishly.
"They're not so bad if you know how to treat them," Andrew replied blandly. Whether he was referring to computers or women, Gates would have to decide for himself.
They moved to a conversation grouping situated in front of the fireplace at the far end of the study. A leather couch and two chairs were arranged just so, with cushions and throw pillows, courtesy of Gates's wife, added to soften the austere environment. Pam often read in the study in the evenings while Patrick worked; she had concluded that she had little choice if she ever wanted to see her husband. An utterly sweet and feminine woman, she had never been fond of the dark decor in Gates's study. The pastel pillows and throws were incongruous, but Pam had needed them in order to feel welcome and comfortable in her husbands domain.
"Where are you off to today, Andrew?"
"Paris. But my assignment is of a slightly different nature this time around," Andrew replied casually.
"Really? Tell me," Gates said eagerly. He found Andrew's job fascinating. Though well-traveled, he had never ventured to the types of places to which Andrew typically traveled. He was rather unadventurous when it came to traveling; he preferred five and six star hotels and villas, chauffeured limousines and cosmopolitan city life to rough and tumble or primitive locales. Nonetheless, he delighted in Andrew's work, always infinitely curious -- in the way one is morbidly curious at the scene of a car accident, and a bit horrified by the circumstances of less fortunate citizens of the world.
"I'm going to Paris to bring Claudia back home where she belongs."
Gates's mouth opened and closed; clearly he had been caught off guard. Andrew watched him closely, tried to discern what might be going through the man's head.God help me, he thought, if Gates dares to show the slightest bit of relief that she's gone.
"What's she doing there?"
"We had a pretty explosive argument after you left yesterday morning."
"Nothing I said, I hope?" Gates asked with a sincerity that Andrew saw right through.
"Actually, that's why I'm here," Andrew paused.
"How can I help?"
"For starters, stay away from Claudia, stay out of my love life."
"I don't know what you mean," Gates sputtered.
"I think you do. How dare you insult me by interfering in my personal life? And the bribe you offered her to get her out of my life? You're way out of line, Paddy. Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Andrew, don't get yourself all wound up. Look," he said in a reasonable tone, "She's not who you think she is. She took the money, didn't she? Hied off to Paris as soon as she could," he said with such satisfaction that Andrew wanted to wrap his fingers around Gates's neck and squeeze until his eyes popped out.
"I know exactly who Claudia Beaumont is," Andrew said baldly, pausing for effect. "I know her better than I ever knew you."
Gates swallowed nervously, but pretended to misunderstand Andrew. "You're young, Andrew. You're idealistic and altogether too trusting of people. I know what women like her are after. They want money. And they'll lie, cheat and steal to get it," he finished on an emphatically sanctimonious note.
"You amaze me. Stop with the bullshit, Gates," Andrew said Gates's name as though it were an epithet. "I know that you are the bastard who fathered Claudia. She told me everything."
Gates at least had the decency to look cowed. But only momentarily. His jaw hardened as he stood and walked over to the wet bar on the far wall of the study. He poured a hefty dram of scotch into a heavy crystal tumbler. Turning to Andrew, he proffered the glass. When his offer was declined, he took a heavy swallow of the potent liquor. Contemplatively, he paced back to the fireplace and stopped before it, rested his arm on the mantle.
"I don't owe you any explanations for my past. But, I will say this about the money I offered her: I was trying to protect you, son. If you knew what her mother was like -- you'd run like hell in the opposite direction from the daughter," Gates had the gall to say.
"Don't call me son. And I do know what her mother is like. I met her this morning. She is every bit as selfish and blind as you are," Andrew replied acidly, furious at the thought that Gates would try to 'protect' him, when all Claudia had ever wanted, or needed most, was someone to look after her best interests.
Gates's features slackened. "You met Marcheline... You mean she's here?"
The skin at the corners of Andrew's eyes tightened when he saw Gates's reaction to the mention of Marcheline. He wore the expression of a besotted idiot, slavering over a treat that dangled just out of reach. He still wants her, Andrew thought incredulously. And come to think of it, the fact that Gates was surprised that Marcheline was here meant that he knew she had at one time not been here. Interesting, since the two had supposedly not had direct contact with one another since before Claudia was born.
"Yes, she's comfortably ensconced in Claudia's apartment, never mind the fact that, as far as she knows, her daughter is missing."
"How is she?" Gates asked tentatively, his voice strangely soft.
"As vacuous, selfish and bitchy as she always was, I'd imagine."
"There's no need for that kind of talk, boy!" Gates admonished.
Andrew drew back in surprise. "Are you defending her? You've got to be kidding me!"
"I'll not stand by and have you insult a lady. You were raised with better manners than that."
"A lady? Now I know you're kidding," he laughed shortly and looked more closely at Gates, who had lost a little of his color and refused to meet his eye. Understanding dawned. "You're still fucking her," Andrew said incredulously.
"That's enough! I will not discuss my personal life with you."
"Your personal life? What about Pam and your kids?"
"One has nothing to do with the other, Andrew. Marcheline's willingness to spread her legs has come in handy more than a few times over the years. You'll understand when you're older and have experienced more things."
"Don't patronize me, Gates! What does age have to do with the fact that you've been cheating on your wife for the last thirty years? That you have a daughter who is only a couple months younger than your oldest child?"
"Andrew, that baby never should have been born. I told Marcheline to get rid of it -- I offered her the money to pay for it," Gates said, determined to make Andrew understand the incomprehensible.
"The 'it' you're referring to turned out to be a beautiful, talented, grievously wounded woman. In spite of the man and woman who parented her, she grew up to be a truly amazing person," Andrew finished with a sneer.
Gates scoffed, "You may think that now, Andrew... But, blood will out. She'll show herself for what she is eventually. Don't trust her with anything that's important to you. Marcheline tried to use the pregnancy to entrap me. I couldn't let that happen! Don't you get it? It would have ruined me! The - shall we say 'attraction'? - I feel for her mother doesn't obscure my knowledge of what she is. A ruthless gold-digger. Mark my words, though, that girl is her mother all over again, it's written all over her."
"She has your blood, too, you asshole. Think about that before you disparage her lineage. And for the record, the 'attraction' you feel for Marcheline is pure, animal lust," Andrew retorted. Gates was displaying himself in an increasingly poor light. Instead of owning up to and showing remorse for having abandoned a child, he continued to denigrate Claudia and her mother. He had apparently carried on an affair with Marcheline for decades, but had never bothered to see Claudia. His hypocrisy was astounding. Andrew was becoming more angry by the second. Mostly on Claudia's behalf, but also because he felt utterly betrayed by Gates. This man had been a fixture in his family's life since long before Andrew had been born. How could they all have been so f
ooled by him? he wondered.
Realizing that Andrew wasn't the slightest bit sympathetic to him, Gates changed tacks.
"I saw to it that she was taken care of; I sent a living allowance every month and even gave Marcheline the house they were living in. That girl wanted for nothing."
"That's where you're wrong," Andrew shot back. "That girl didn't have anyone to take care of her, no one to protect her. The responsibilities of fatherhood entail more than providing for a child's material needs, Paddy."
"She had more than just her material needs met, Andrew," Gates said defensively. "I sent more than enough money and they lived in a very nice area in Brookline. She had access to good schools and plenty of money to do anything she wanted."
"She was a child, Gates! She wasn't the person in charge of the money. Don't forget who her mother is," Andrew threw Gates's words back at him. "Marcheline did not pass your largesse along to her daughter. Claudia had the necessities, but that's about it. Besides, the money is not at issue here. You have plenty of money, so it was no hardship for you to provide for her financially. What we're talking about is the fact that you abandoned your daughter! You raised her brothers and sisters in the bosom of an intact family. You provided the best for them, looked out for them, taught them right from wrong. Which I have to admit is quite an irony," Andrew snorted. "You teaching people right and wrong when you'd done the worst thing a human being could ever do. That's rich."
Gates said nothing in reply. Andrew stared at him for a long moment, realizing that he really didn't know this man. Outwardly, Gates looked the same as he always had -- perfectly innocuous. The soul of the man, however, was anything but. Andrew could almost see the darkness that oozed from the cracks he had exposed by confronting Gates with the knowledge of Claudia's parentage and the further realization that Gates had been unfaithful to Pam throughout their entire marriage.
"Did you ever wonder how your other daughter was doing?"
"No, Andrew, I did not. I wanted nothing to do with her, couldn't allow Marcheline to sink her hooks into me any deeper. If you're smart, you'll keep your emotions safely tucked away from those women, too. They're poison and worse than that -- absolute trash!" Gates said, anger clear in his voice.
"Watch what you say about your daughter, Gates," Andrew warned.
"Look at what's happening already! She's coming between you and your family! It's only going to get worse. Just like her mother, she'll try to isolate you from those of us who love you, make you think you can't live without her! She'll take and take and take until she destroys you and you'll be left with nothing!"
"She is my family! Don't you get that? I'd willingly give her whatever I have, anything she wants, to make her happy! And I already can't live without her. She's tried to give me an out more times than you can know. She gives me the same reason you offer: that she's not good enough. What you and she can't seem to understand is that she's better than all of us, stronger and smarter and more real!"
"It's all part of her plan, Andrew, and you're falling for it hook, line and sinker. Don't be a fool, son."
"You're the fool. You're the one who fell for Marcheline's scam and she's still got you panting after her. You provided her with a nice cushy life and an expensive home, which she sold for a nice chunk of change as soon as Claudia left for college. Claudia was a pawn in the game; Marcheline got what she wanted out of you: a lifetime of support and the only unwanted consequence was Claudia. You got off scot free, Marcheline got what she wanted and the only person who has paid for your selfishness is Claudia! How could you have done that?!"
"I did what I had to do to protect myself and my family!"
"Exactly. You looked out for your own best interests, meanwhile, your daughter was getting mauled by her mother's lovers -- selfish, rich bastards like you, who thought nothing of taking what they wanted, whenever they wanted it and to hell with whomever gets hurt!" Andrew raged.
Gates stood stoically, his expression so impassive that Andrew wondered if his words penetrated.
"You make me sick!" the corners of Gates's eyelids flinched, betraying that he was hearing what Andrew said, that he was affected by the words that rained down on him. "You've always pretended to be this righteous person, donating to all of your politically correct charities, preaching about personal responsibility and accountability. God, what a hypocrite you are!"
"Look, Andrew -- I'm sorry - ," Gates began, only to be cut off.
"Yeah, I'll just bet you're sorry. Sorry you got caught! Don't apologize to me. I don't want it. You owe all kinds of apologies to Claudia, but she doesn't want them from you either! She despises you. There's no way you can atone for what you've done. I hope you rot in hell," Andrew finished and walked out of the study door. He turned back and shook his head with regret, "When I think of how I defended you to her when she refused to tell me why she she didn't like you... She was right about one thing: you're an asshole. I'm warning you once. Stay away from me. Stay away from Claudia." With that, he walked out.
It crossed his mind as he moved through the familiar rooms to the door and out to his car, that he would never set foot in that house again. He had always been as comfortable there as he'd been in his parents' house growing up. No more.
*****
Marcheline had made herself comfortable in Claudia's apartment. She eschewed the use of the guest room Andrew had shown her to and instead appropriated the master bedroom for her own use and spent the afternoon getting acquainted with the premises and the contents thereof. When Andrew let himself back into Claudia's apartment, Marcheline was going through Claudia's closet, examining what she found intently, draping the things she particularly liked across the bed. Andrew watched her for a moment, saw her pull out a silk wraparound dress and hold it up to herself, looking into the full-length mirror, admiring the way the color of the dress suited her.
"Find anything you like?" Andrew asked, anger sparking in him that she would trespass, when against the instinct to protect herself, Claudia had opened her home to Marcheline.
Marcheline yelped and dropped the dress, startled. She turned around to face him and Andrew thought he saw a fleeting look of guilt in her eyes.
"Oh, chér! I didn't hear you come in," she said, recovering quickly. "I was just hanging my clothes..."
"Don't bother; I saw what you were doing. You won't be staying here."
"But why? There is plenty of room for me here," Marcheline said.
"I've decided that you will never get another chance to use or mistreat Claudia again. She doesn't owe you anything, yet against her better judgment, she extended you the courtesy of a place to stay while you go through your divorce. You've only been here a couple of hours and to repay her hospitality, you've smoked cigarettes which she hates, you've tried to seduce her boyfriend and now you're pawing through her belongings, setting aside the things of hers that you like so you could steal from her! I won't let you get away with it. You're not staying here," Andrew said implacably.
"I wasn't -- how is it you say? -- pawing through her things," Marcheline protested, her accent was back full force. "And I would steal nothing! I was unpacking and needed to make room for my clothes in the closet."
Andrew had to hand it to her. She had at least not denied that she had tried to seduce him. There was honesty in her somewhere, however deeply it might be hidden.
"Your suitcases are in the front hall, in the exact same spot I left them when I let you here. You'd need them if you were unpacking, wouldn't you?"
"I needed to see how much room there was, chér," Marcheline sidled up to Andrew, batting her lashes. "You wouldn't throw me out in the cold, would you, chér? Where would I go?"
"There are hundreds of hotels in this city. I'm sure one of them has a vacancy."
"A hotel? Why would I spend money to stay at a hotel when this place is going unused?"
"Because it's about damned time you paid your own way! You've sponged off of Claudia and your... what would you call them? Lovers?
Johns? Whatever. You've never paid your own way and you've never faced the consequences of your actions. That stops now!"
"How dare you!" Marcheline asked angrily. Then, thinking to win him over with frail, stunned surprise, she raised shaking hands to her throat, sank onto Claudia's bed. "Why do you speak to me this way?"
"I'm the person who's doing for Claudia what you and Patrick Gates have failed to do for her entire life: I'm protecting her from predators!"
Marcheline's eyes flared in shock at hearing Gates's name.
"That's right. Thanks to me, Claudia met that bastard for the first time on Christmas night -- at my parents' house. He's been my father's best friend for nearly fifty years -- I have known him my entire life."
He paused, waiting for Marcheline's response. She sat in stunned silence. The look on her face was more like horrified glee than sympathy for what Claudia must have endured.
"She saw Patrick? Spoke with him?"
"Yes. He treated her like garbage, tried to give her money to leave me."
"Ah," Marcheline nodded with a knowing smile, "that's why she went to Paris. She took the money. And I thought she'd learned nothing from me," for the first time, her voice was tinged with pride as she spoke about her daughter.
"You disgust me. She didn't take the money. I'm not exactly sure why she left, but it certainly isn't because she thought all of her financial worries were behind her. She left the check Gates wrote her on my dining room table. She never even touched it."
"Then she's a fool," Marcheline said baldly. "Men like you and Gates will take what you want from her and use her up. In the end, she'll be left with nothing!"
"She won't, because she's nothing like you and I'm nothing like Gates. I love her and she loves me even if she's too afraid, too scarred by the shit you and Gates dumped in her lap, to admit it!"
Marcheline gave a typically gallic snort of disgust and disbelief. She stood and walked past Andrew out of the bedroom and down the hall to the living room. Andrew followed her. She walked over to where she had left her expensive au courant handbag and groped inside it. She found her packet of cigarettes and pulled one out and prepared to light it. Andrew snatched it from her hand and broke it in half.