Даниэла Стил - All That Glitters

She didn’t answer his comment about what she was doing on Friday night, and felt guilty and like she was letting him down when she hung up. Theresa was going to babysit for Bethanie for the weekend. It didn’t seem fair that she was leading the life of a fairy princess and Sam was the drudge in his, with Tamar badgering him for money, in love with another man, his mother kibitzing from the sidelines and putting her oar in, and his four children constantly sick. It was definitely a nightmare, and a little too real. And Tamar made no pretense of helping him at all.

—

Charlie picked her up in his Bentley on Friday morning, and drove her to Teterboro in New Jersey where his plane was waiting. It was a Gulfstream, which comfortably accommodated a dozen people, and could travel long distances without refueling, so he used it to go to Europe frequently. There were two flight attendants to serve them, and they had a hot breakfast waiting. The captain and copilot were pleasant and professional. They took off twenty minutes after they got there, while Charlie and Coco had breakfast, with The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal neatly folded next to them.

They flew directly to Saint Martin, where his boat picked them up to take them to Saint Bart’s, avoiding the ride on the terrifying puddle jumper that usually landed there. The boat was beyond fabulous, with every imaginable comfort and filled with priceless art. A Rolls was waiting for them with his houseman driving in Saint Bart’s, and they went straight to his house, which had a magnificent view of the ocean, and an enormous pool.

He had given her her own room, so she would have privacy, and enough space for her things, and they could move at the pace that seemed most natural to them. There was no pressure on her at all, although they both knew what would happen that weekend and why they were there. They had waited a month for this. The house was filled with flowers, and her room was as well. He opened a bottle of champagne for her when they arrived, and they sat by the pool for a little while, before they went to put bathing suits on, before having lunch at the pool.

He sat admiring her, as she looked at him, and an odd question popped into her mind. He made everything so easy for her, and himself. He was a man who liked his comforts and the fruits of his huge success.

“Does this ever seem unreal to you, Charlie?” she asked him and he smiled.

“No, why would it? It’s my real life and the way I want it. Some of us are lucky enough to live the way we choose. I have no encumbrances, no children to worry about, and this is the way I want to live.” She wondered if he ever felt guilty about indulging himself to that degree, or missed going to McDonald’s, or riding the subway or doing the things that other people did. Her father had built a successful empire and amassed an enormous fortune, but she couldn’t imagine them sitting by the pool, surrounded by servants, waited on hand and foot, with their own plane, and a yacht in the harbor. At a certain point, it became excessive, and she wondered where that line was for him, or if it even existed.

She was enjoying it thoroughly, but it didn’t feel real. It was the flash to the highest degree, the Mount Everest of consumption. She wondered if maybe Texans just did things bigger, but she also couldn’t imagine him taking care of four young children like Sam, or even like her with Bethanie. She liked to be comfortable too, but in Charlie’s lifestyle, you missed the simple, precious moments that she also enjoyed. The times when you could be alone, or made dinner, just the two of you, which her parents had done. Charlie was always surrounded by employees and liked to be waited on.

They swam before lunch, and ate the lobster prepared by the French chef he kept there. After lunch, they dozed in the sun for a while. She awoke to his touch, as he sat on her chaise and gently stroked her back. She had unhooked her top, and he had told her she could swim topless since everyone did in Saint Bart’s since it was French, but she didn’t feel quite ready for that with him yet. She turned her head to look at him with a sleepy smile and he leaned down and kissed her.

“Do you want to go down to the boat for a while?” he asked her, and she nodded. She put her top back on, and he drove her to the port in a Ferrari. When they got there, his yacht was nestled among several others, and they were welcomed aboard by the crew. They took off for a little while and enjoyed the sun and the breeze on deck.

“I can never decide where I want to be when I’m here, at the house or on the boat. I love this boat.” He was an expert sailor, and they sailed for a while, and then slowly came back to the port in a light wind. Every moment she shared with him was perfect. She couldn’t imagine real life intruding on them. She would have loved to have Bethanie with her, but these were adult moments that weren’t meant for children. His life was entirely geared to adults in a life of supreme luxury. She was being cared for like a child, without a care in the world. In Charlie’s world, one felt totally safe and protected and shielded from anything unpleasant.

As she sat at the rail, she had a pang again, thinking of Sam, and how real his life was right now, how real hers had been at various times and how painful. Even Charlie couldn’t prevent bad things from happening, like what had happened to her parents, or Bethanie getting sick. The safety of Charlie’s world was an illusion. He was as vulnerable as everyone else. He just didn’t know it, and protected himself well, and her.

When they got back to the house, she bathed and changed for dinner. She was going to wear the white silk Chanel that night, which seemed appropriate. As she brushed her dark hair, she met her own eyes in the mirror, and knew what she was doing. She was hiding, and chasing the fairy tale again. It was the flash in all its glory. And all of a sudden she knew where she wanted to be and with whom. All she didn’t know was why she hadn’t figured it out sooner, or how he’d feel about it.

She put her brush down and turned away from the mirror. She wanted to call Bethanie, but she didn’t want to upset her if she was having fun. And she wanted to call Sam, and he was very definitely not having fun. He wasn’t on a yacht or a tropical island. He was probably cleaning up after his kids, with no nanny on the weekend. With luck, no one had an earache or diarrhea.

She took her white silk dress off, folded it, and put it back into the suitcase. She put on the white jeans she’d brought with a white T-shirt and white ballet flats, packed the rest of her things, and walked out to find Charlie in the living room. He was waiting for her with another bottle of Cristal in a silver bucket and two chilled champagne flutes.

He looked surprised but not displeased by what she was wearing. He had been thinking about what lay ahead for them later that night, and so had she, and she knew she couldn’t do it. She had to be honest with him, and herself.

She looked apologetic as she approached him, but she had awoken from her stupor, and she was wide-awake now. The luxurious fumes of his life had inebriated her for weeks. But now she was stone cold sober.

“Charlie, I know this will sound crazy, but I have to go home.” She sounded calm and serious and no longer playful.

“Did something happen to your daughter?” He was instantly sympathetic. “Did they call you from home?” He knew how sick she had been before.

“She’s fine. But I’m not. I shouldn’t be here. I know better. This is what I do. I get caught up in someone else’s fairy tale, and try to live their dream with them. This is your dream, not mine. My dream includes a little girl who gets sick, very sick last year, and cries, and gets chocolate ice cream all over my jeans, and a job I love, which isn’t glamorous, but I have fun doing it, and people you probably wouldn’t even want to know. This is your reality, not mine. I need to go home.” She was the first woman who had ever said that to him. He was angry for a minute, and then he respected her for it. She was her own person, and a brave girl. He only knew a fraction of what she’d been through, but she was a strong woman, and he knew he could love her if she’d let him. But it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. “If you get me to the airport, I’ll catch a flight back to New York. You don’t need to send me, or fly me back.” She didn’t want to inconvenience him on top of it, or cost him anything. This had been her mistake.