Sidney Sheldon - Mistress of the Game

He entered her with an anguished cry, like an animal in its death throes. Lexi gripped him tightly to her. Closing her eyes, she could feel the pain flowing from his body to hers. It’s all right, Gabe. It’s all right, my love.

In the beginning, Max used to make love to her the same way. Desperately. As if Lexi could save him. But that was another lifetime. Gabe was not Max. Gabe was good and decent and kind. Gabe was suffering because he had loved. Max suffered because he could not love. Because he was broken.

Like me.

Maybe Gabe and I can save each other?

When Robbie came downstairs later that morning, he found his friend and his sister fast asleep on the couch, entwined in each other’s arms. He smiled.

Paolo put on some coffee. “I wouldn’t look so happy if I were you.” He nodded at the sleeping lovers. “That’s trouble.”

“Why? You said yourself that Gabe should find somebody. That he needs love to live again.”

“Yes, but Lexi?”

Robbie bridled. “Why not Lexi? God knows she could use someone normal in her life. Someone to break her of this obsession with Kruger-Brent.”

“I love your sister, Robbie. You know that. But lovers can’t ‘fix’ each other.”

Robbie thought: You’re wrong. What about us? We fixed each other.

“Give it a chance. She loves him, you know. I’m convinced of it. When he went missing, she pined like a lost puppy. Lexi acts tough on the outside, but she feels things deeply.”

Paolo said nothing.

He hoped he was wrong, for all their sakes.

GABE, LEXI AND ROBBIE WERE IN LEXI’S NEW YORK APARTMENT, playing cards.

Gabe was explaining the rules. “The game’s called hearts. The aim is to dump as many hearts as you can on your opponent, without winning any yourself. Every heart counts against you, so the ten of hearts is minus ten points, the ace is minus twenty-five and so on. The most dangerous card in the pack is the queen of spades-the black Mariah. If you win her, that’s minus fifty points. With me so far?”

Robbie said: “I think so. Losing is good, winning is bad, right?”

“Sounds like a stupid game to me,” grumbled Lexi.

She was not in a good mood. Normally she loved having Robbie stay over. They saw him too rarely. He was a good, calming influence on Lexi and Gabe’s fiery relationship; a reminder that their love ran deeper than the silly arguments and competitiveness of daily life. But today, not even Robbie could lift her spirits.

Lexi had spent the morning watching helplessly as Kruger-Brent’s share price rallied, up almost twenty points. For years she’d been quietly pursuing her Jenga strategy: buying up strategic parts of the Kruger-Brent empire piece by piece, through anonymous shell companies. The idea was that if she could only remove the right piece at the right time, the whole edifice would collapse in on itself. Max would be fired. She, Lexi, would return in a blaze of glory to lead the company back to greatness.

But it hadn’t happened. Kruger-Brent was like a giant spider. Every time you cut off one of its legs, it grew back. Max was winning the game. The bastard was beating her.

Her temper was not improved when she comprehensively lost the first two rounds of the card game. “This is ridiculous. Whoever heard of a game where you’re not supposed to win?”

Robbie laughed. He adored the furious look on Lexi’s face. It was the same look she’d had at age six when she lost at Chutes and Ladders, and demanded that either he or the nanny agree to a rematch.

“You are supposed to win. But you have to win by losing.”

“Actually, there’s another rule,” said Gabe. “I didn’t tell you about it before because it basically never happens. But if you somehow manage to win all the hearts and the black Mariah-if you get every conceivable penalty card against you, in other words-then you have an option either to halve your own minus points or double your opponents’.”

Lexi was quiet. A few minutes later, her bad mood miraculously evaporated. Scooting across the couch, she wrapped her arms around Gabe and kissed him.

“Come on, then, let’s play. Whose turn is it to deal?”

Robbie watched Gabe’s face light up.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing. I love you, that’s all.”

Later that night, Gabe and Lexi made love for the first time in weeks. Lexi had been so preoccupied with work recently, she’d been neglecting Gabe. But tonight she made up for it, teasing and caressing him till he begged to get inside her, whispering her undying love in his ear. Afterward, Gabe fell into a deep, contented sleep.

Lexi lay awake, her mind racing, too excited to close her eyes.

At last, at long, long last, she’d figured it out. It was Gabe who’d given her the idea.

I know how I’m going to win back Kruger-Brent.

I’ve been playing the wrong game all along.

Lisa Jenner, Eve Blackwell’s maid, brushed her mistress’s long gray hair and let her mind wander. The old woman was rambling again.

“Rory loved me. He was going to marry me, you know. But then that man tricked me. He waited till I was helpless, unconscious, and he did this .” Eve ran her wizened, veiny hands across her face, probing the scars with her fingers.

“Which man, madam?” Lisa had only been working for Ms. Blackwell for a month, but was already used to her insane outbursts.

“My husband, of course!” Eve snapped. “Max.”

“Your husband is dead, madam. He was killed in an accident a long time ago. Max is your son. Remember?”

Eve frowned. Max is my son. My son?

“My son is a fool. He’s destroying Kruger-Brent. He’s weak, like his father.”

Lisa Jenner twisted Eve’s hair into a high, tight bun and secured it with an ivory pin. Then she replaced her mistress’s veil.

“There we are. All done,” she said brightly. “Max is waiting for you in the drawing room with Dr. Marshall. Would you like me to take you through?”

“No!” Eve’s voice was shrill with panic. “My face! Don’t let him touch my face! He’s not a doctor. He’s a maniac!”

“It’s all right, Lisa. I’ll handle this.”

Annabel had insisted on coming with Max today. The last time he visited his mother on his own, he came home a wreck, his frail nerves stretched to the breaking point. She wasn’t about to let it happen again.

“Come along now, Eve. Dr. Marshall isn’t here to hurt you.”

“Who are you?”

“It’s Annabel, Eve. Max’s wife. Max and I are here to have a chat with the doctor. We brought you some of that smoked cheese you like.”

“She’s a good breeder, Max’s wife.” Eve got unsteadily to her feet. “He should hurry up and marry her. Kruger-Brent must have an heir.”

Kruger-Brent. How Annabel had come to loathe those two words. The pressure of running Kruger-Brent had brought poor Max to the brink of a nervous breakdown. His mother seemed to expect him to wave a magic wand and recoup all their losses overnight. She had no idea of the reality of the market. Then again, how could she?

The old battle-ax barely knows her own name.

“Hello, Mother. You look well.”

Eve shuffled into the drawing room. Age had not crept up on Eve Blackwell. It had ambushed her suddenly. In a matter of months, her ramrod-straight spine had become bowed and stooped. Faint veins on the backs of her hands stood out like tree roots. Liver spots burst like a plague over her once flawless skin. But none of these changes mattered to Max. In his eyes, his mother was eternally beautiful.

He moved forward to kiss her. Eve brushed him aside.

“I know what you did,” she hissed. “I’m going to tell everybody. Then you’ll be sorry.”