Adventures of Pebble Beach

by Berger, Barbara

  “I’d like to say to myself,” Pebble swelled at the insult, the effort, at life. “I’d like to say –get your fucking act together, woman!” When they finally emerged, the words were almost a scream. “I’d like to say to myself you don’t have to sit there and cry like a nitwit, you jerk. What’s the matter with you? What’s the matter with me? Why am I acting so dumb?”

  Irene sighed as the dam broke. Pebble took a deep breath and rushed on, “Just look at you. You’re acting like you completely dissolved – sitting there with your stupid list and crying like a baby. Why are you so worried about everybody else? What are you so afraid of? What can happen? It’s idiotic. You weren’t put into this world to take care of everybody else. Who’s taking care of you? You’re a doormat. It’s crazy. You don’t have to let other people wipe their feet on you. Nobody says you have to jump up and down for anyone. You didn’t have to do it before and you don’t have to do it now! Not for Slim or for Albert or for Einar or for anyone. You really don’t. You don’t have to answer to anybody about anything. It’s not required. There’s no law anywhere that says you have to explain. You just happen to be you, kiddo…” And then Pebble laughed, and it was one of the most invigorating peals of laughter she’d experienced in years. “…and that’s quite okay. And if other people don’t like you or the decisions you make, or how you act, or what you do…if they don’t like the clothes you wear or the way you eat or how you set your hair, well then they can…just go jump in the nearest lake.”

  Chapter 10

  Wednesday found Pebble sitting with Einar Bro at an elegantly set table in Restaurant Copenhagen Corner, which is strategically located across from Rådhuspladsen, the sprawling town hall square, and close to Tivoli Gardens. The restaurant’s glass-enclosed terrace faces the statue of Hans Christian Andersen across the boulevard and provides an excellent place to meet for lunch or business.

  Pebble dressed carefully for the occasion, she even wore her best black kid gloves with her Armani blazer. But who was she kidding? She was almost out of work, and Einar, of course, would know.

  He must think I look smashing. The thought obsessed her. Without good looks, Pebble thought she was dead. She hated Einar for making her feel that way. But Einar was power.

  He talked excitedly about the account which had taken him to Paris. A well-known Danish furrier was going to stage a major fashion show in Paris and the Republic Group had won the account. That meant management of the whole event. It was tremendous PR for the agency, too. Whatever else you had to say about Einar, he managed to stay in the limelight. Pebble might not love the man, but she loved the excitement that surrounded him. And he’s so ugly. The man’s a frog with power. It was fascinating. Once again Pebble wondered if men as ugly as Einar used power to compensate for their lack of physical prowess when it came to women. Einar had been in Paris checking out the locations his advance troops had picked as tentative candidates for the show. When they’d done the footwork, Einar flew down to take a look at their results. Apparently he wasn’t ready to make a choice yet.

  “Why don’t we order wine, Pebble. I told Marianne to keep the afternoon open today. I really need to unwind a little.” He’d returned from Paris early and had spent the morning in a high-powered meeting at the Industrial Council upstairs.

  He motioned to the waiter and asked for the wine list. In spite of the elegant tan Italian suit he was wearing, Pebble still thought he looked like a frog.

  “And how have you been doing, my dear?”

  “I started going to this wonderful therapist last week,” she replied, trying to head off any talk about business. She’d decided upon the tactic before leaving her apartment. She went over their coming conversation a thousand times and every time it ended in disaster. She didn’t want Einar to know she was in trouble. If he knew she had no work, he’d have a tremendous advantage. And she’d be forced to ask him about WonderLift. She had vowed to herself not to talk about WonderLift until she was sure of the truth. The problem was, she wasn’t sure. Maybe she really did tell him the launch date of WonderLift. She just didn’t know anymore. When Peter Cato first accused her she denied his accusation fiercely. At that time, she was certain she remembered what happened at the Hotel D’Angleterre perfectly, but on closer inspection, she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t remember everything she said. Parts of their conversation seemed faded and blurred. Memory is a tricky thing anyway. She remembered Einar’s hands and face – they were vivid enough, but not their words. She remembered getting very drunk, too – for her. If she hadn’t just spent almost three weeks snowbound with an alcoholic, she might have felt differently. But being with Albert changed her idea of what alcohol can do to people. Her absolute certainty about her own behavior had evaporated. She desperately wanted to discuss it with Irene. Not that she thought Irene could help her locate the truth, but she needed to get it off her chest.

  “You just have to go to Paris and see this show.” Apparently Einar wasn’t listening when Pebble said she was going to a therapist. He’d been studying the Corner’s excellent wine list. Having made his choice, he looked at Pebble, “It’s going to be fabulous, just fabulous. The furs John is going to show are simply out of this world.” After a week without work, Pebble felt very shaky indeed. I wonder if he knows how I’m feeling. She felt Einar was her only option. God I hope he doesn’t know how badly off I am. It was enough to make her perspire under her best business disguise – an expensive knitted outfit from BKR, a favorite among Danish working women. If I don’t go to work for Einar, what will I do? Pebble trembled at the thought of going out on the job market again. Copenhagen’s too small for that. There’s not much room for an English copywriter in a place like Scandinavia. What chances do I have if I want to keep working here? Writing was Pebble’s first love. Anything else would be an anticlimax. Einar looked different in that light. Maybe he’s not such a jerk…if he gives me the chance to write…I wonder what Irene would do if she was me? She’s always so serene about life. Pebble was sure Einar was her best shot. As for the WonderLift thing and him being a jerk, and unethical, well she would just have to find out what actually happened before she could even begin to think about how to deal with it and him.

  An immaculately clad waiter took their orders. Einar ordered an expensive Chablis for their lunch.

  “Tell me about the man you visited on Greenland,” Einar asked, his voice warm and sincere, as if he was a kind, wise uncle.

  Pebble smelled danger. Einar was so experienced in the ways of the world. Pebble was a novice by comparison.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Einar.” It was true; his question caught her by surprise. This was supposed to be a business lunch.

  “Well, tell me if you’re in love with him, for starters.”

  “He’s an alcoholic.” Pebble was stunned by her admission. Why did I tell him that? Einar was an expert at surprising people into honesty.

  “An alcoholic?”

  “Yes. I didn’t know before I went there.”

  “I see,” his voice was even kinder. She knew he was processing this information and that he’d find a way to exploit it. “Is that why you’re going to therapy all of a sudden?” So he had heard.

  “Well…” It was another good question. “Well, yes and no. Of course I was shocked when I found out.”

  “I don’t blame you.” He reached across the table and took her hand just as he’d done that night at the Hotel D’Angleterre, only this time Pebble wasn’t drunk. “Pebble, I want you to come work for me. You won’t regret it.”

  He had a way of changing the subject, so he was always in charge. She didn’t want him to hold her hand, but didn’t know how to free herself from his grip. Being firm with a man wasn’t as easy as her son Adam thought. She felt uncomfortable and warm.

  “What do you want me to do for you?”

  “I want you to be my assistant.”

  “You said that before, Einar, but what does it involve? You know I’m a copywriter.”
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  “Well, it will be an opportunity for you to broaden your scope, Pebble. You’ll still be writing copy for me, but you’ll also be in on the decision-making process. I’ll want you to help me develop my marketing plans. The job will involve some travel. But if you can leave your boys alone to go to Greenland, I’m sure you can leave them for business trips, too.”

  The job sounded wonderful. Pebble wanted desperately to be a part of the excitement that surrounded Einar. I know people who would die for a chance like this. She just wondered how high the price was going to be. If I say yes, will he think I’m willing to go to bed with him? She knew Einar played his cards very close to the chest. I’ll have to be on guard day and night. Still, she wanted to send him a warning.

  “Einar, you know how independent I am.”

  “I know,” he still had her hand, “that’s why I want you.”

  She wondered what the “why I want you” referred to. Does he want me for the job or for himself?

  “What are you thinking about paying me, Einar?”

  “I thought I’d start you off at $125,000 this year and if things go well, we’ll talk about $150,000 next year.”

  Molly will die when she hears I’m making $125,000 a year. Pebble smiled inside. “When do you want me to start?” she said.

  Einar let go of Pebble’s hand as the waiter approached with the wine. She sighed with relief. What if one of my kids walked by and saw me holding hands with Einar again? The waiter opened the Chablis and Einar tasted it carefully. He seemed pleased. When the waiter had poured the wine and left them alone, Einar said, “Shall we drink to your success?”

  Einar’s question left Pebble stunned. In that split second, she realized she was standing at a crossroads. Strange emotions held her tightly in their grip. She searched the bright, busy restaurant frantically for a familiar face, but there was none. Something was very wrong. If she really was on her way to becoming a first-class businesswoman, why did she still love Albert and the simple life he represented? (Up until that moment, she’d convinced herself that she didn’t love him. In fact, since she returned from Greenland, she’d thought very little about Albert.) She knew the man was a hopeless alcoholic – what kind of a life would she have with a man like that? It would never work. It was an impossible dream. She found all that out when she visited him. So why did his eyes grab at her heart now? Living with Albert’s a dream. Alcoholics don’t ever change. She wished the bond between them was broken. Sitting with Einar made her realize it wasn’t. Damn. I don’t want to think about Albert – ever again. He can’t help me. Nobody can. I’m on my own.

  In that instant, before she accepted the job Einar was offering her, Pebble understood that she still had a long way to go before she grew up. At the rate I’m going I’ll probably be dead before I do. It was not a comforting thought. She also realized that everyone who heard of the WonderLift scandal would interpret her going to work for Einar as an admission of guilt.

  Einar repeated his question, “Shall we drink to your success, Pebble?”

  “Yes, Einar, I’d like that,” she replied in a weak voice.

  Einar raised his glass in triumph, “To Pebble Beach, my new assistant.” His voice was lusty.

  Chapter 11

  I never made love to a guy who’s nearly 20 years younger than I am, thought Pebble Beach on her way to her first rendezvous with Per, the gorgeous 24-year-old who sat next to her on the plane on the way home from Greenland.

  She knew she was going to make love to Per from the moment he sat down next to her. It was just a matter of getting around to it. Since returning from her fling with Albert, Pebble had been busy putting her life back together. It was early May and many weeks had passed without Pebble even thinking about the sorry state of her sex life. Spring had arrived in this northerly region of the world, and people were beginning to hope again. The days were distinctly and definitely longer as the sun began to spread its gentle warmth over the cold, wintry city. The chestnut trees in the King’s Garden across the street from Pebble’s apartment were in full bloom. Suddenly, everyone and their grandmother were outdoors, looking hopefully skyward. With the return of the sun, Copenhagen joyfully enacted its yearly spring rites and became a city instantly reborn and inhabited by smiling, friendly people. Pebble spent this happy time settling firmly into her role as Einar’s assistant.

  Working for Einar was like staking out your turf. He would put a hand here and Pebble would gently but firmly remove it. He would come too close and Pebble would move. Whenever he had an opportunity, he tried. If they worked late, he tried. If they went to lunch, he tried. If they were alone in his office, he tried. He was as persistent as a waterfall, wearing away at Pebble’s stony strength. In fact, he was so persistent she hardly noticed his slow progress. But they were getting more familiar, and friendlier. She found new qualities in the man, found herself liking him.

  The thing about Einar was that once you got past the unbecoming exterior and the manipulative manner, you found a sensitive, intelligent man with a deep insight into people and business. Pebble was fascinated by his descriptions of meetings she attended with him. The scenes he described were often a far cry from the meeting she thought she’d been to. Pebble tuned into who said what, period, while Einar was able to provide an in-depth analysis of the “who said what and why”. He knew what motivated people. He could explain them and make their behavior plausible. Sometimes Pebble was floored by his insights. How did he know? Of course he’d had a long business career and knew many of these people intimately, but that didn’t explain everything. Nor did the fact that he had negotiated with them before and knew their weaknesses. She came to the conclusion that behind the frog face, there lurked a man of considerable talent. When he explained the inner workings of an event to her, she realized there was a world of complex motives, passions and ambitions warring right below the smooth, shiny surface when well-dressed people met in richly carpeted conference rooms. He helped her understand more completely why some decisions were made and others were not. Up until then, she’d been nothing more than a talented copywriter. Now, as Einar’s assistant, she was thrown into the heat of battle, naive and green as she was. She didn’t know how to read signals – but she was learning fast. Einar’s the best mentor I ever had. It’s like going to business school and getting paid, too. She had to admit, she loved every minute of it. Einar’s done more for me than any other man I know. Which made it hard to put him down when he got too close. Besides, his brilliance fascinated her. The other men in her life, the handsome ones – like Slim and Albert – what had they done for her? Einar at least shared a wealth of experience with her and taught her invaluable lessons at the same time. It was great fun, being exposed to the world like that.

  It did a lot for her self-confidence, too, especially after the WonderLift debacle. Fortunately for Pebble, she didn’t know people were still talking behind her back – saying things like “Einar bought her”. She thought WonderLift was forgotten, but she was wrong. In her heady excitement, she didn’t notice how people stopped talking when she and Einar walked into a meeting, but they did. Danes have long memories.

  She was strangely lighthearted and unaware of what was going on around her. So lighthearted in fact (and lightheaded) that she willingly let spring and the thrill of entering a whole new world dazzle her. Everything (except Irene) went on the back burner – WonderLift, Albert, Slim, Peter Cato, even her sex life. Work provided her with a blissful means of escape. Pebble had even forgotten Per, the gorgeous hunk who sat next to her on the plane home from Greenland, until he called her one luminous May evening, out of the blue.

  It wasn’t until she hung up that she realized how much courage it must have taken for him to call her. God, I promised to call him and never did. There was so much to deal with when I got home, I just plain forgot.

  And now she was on her way to meet him at Cafe Sommersko in downtown Copenhagen, a playful smile on her lips. Actually, achieving that right, playful state
of mind hadn’t been all that easy. Pebble, in fact, had to work hard to get there. Most people have no idea of how hard it is for a 40-something woman to dress for a date with a 24-year-old. She was not trained for an occasion like this. How are you supposed to look when going out with a kid? It was hard to figure out. First of all, Pebble didn’t know if Per had any idea how old she was. They didn’t talk about age on the five-hour flight back from Søndre Strømfjord, they just laughed a lot and stared deeply into each other’s eyes. She couldn’t just sit there and blurt out her age. It wouldn’t have been right. Nor could she bring herself to say, Hey sweetheart, you know I’m old enough to be your mother…

  So she’d spent a long time before their rendezvous in front of her mirror, changing clothes. Now how ’bout my looking young outfit? Which translated into something like huge rhinestone earrings, black high heels, and tight-fitting jeans over a very tight bodystocking. It might scare the shit out of him. An outfit like that worked wonders when you went to a party and everybody else was over 50. Then Pebble looked great. And somebody like Fast Eddie, her 55-year-old copywriter friend with the thick glasses would say, “God, do you look sexy!” But that outfit with Per? With his 20-20 vision, it wouldn’t work. It would be like saying, Hey, kiddo, I’m still in pretty good shape…you know, no false teeth or anything yet… She threw the tight jeans onto the growing pile of clothes on her bed.

  With Per it would have to be something else. Something timeless. God, I hope I’m timeless, too. Young and sexy clothes on a 40-year-old body just wouldn’t work with a 24-year-old. I’ve got to position myself outside of that game with him. Still nothing she tried on seemed right. She cringed at the thought of him thinking Just get a load of this old broad. Who does she think she’s fooling? Looking back at their first meeting, Pebble remembered in dismay that the light on the airplane had been dim and they’d both drunk a lot. Per was ecstatic because he was going back to Denmark (he’d been up there for three months working as an electrician and hated every minute of it) and she was ecstatic, too. There wasn’t much that could bring them down. They were like escaped convicts who had slipped out of a maximum security prison. Reality couldn’t touch them. Age? What you talkin’ about, sister? Real life? That’s news to me. They were high on the impossible and only cared about the direction of the plane (homeward-bound) and each other. The free-flowing cognac, courtesy of Air Greenland, helped them stay airborne.