Danielle Steel: The Apartment

“What happened to your hair?” It was still short and dark brown.

“You did. They had to change my looks,” Sasha said. It was the first day she hadn’t worn the blue contact lenses in two months, and she’d thrown them away.

“That is a sacrifice. Alex must hate me. You look like shit with dark hair.” She grinned.

“Thanks.” She noticed that there was a man standing behind her sister then, looking awkward. He was a strong, handsome guy with huge shoulders, and a young face. He was wearing a white T-shirt, jeans, and scuffed cowboy boots, and a windbreaker with an NYPD patch on it, and a suspicious bulge under it, which Sasha recognized now as a shoulder holster, and had hoped never to see again. “Do you still need protection?” she asked her in an undertone. Lieutenant O’Rourke had said it was all over, but Valentina clearly had a cop with her, still.

“A girl always needs protection,” Valentina said as she smiled coyly over her shoulder. “This is Bert. He was on the detail in Arizona, dressed as a priest. We looked pretty cute together, as a priest and a nun.” She laughed, and he smiled at her adoringly, and then nodded at Sasha. He looked about six or seven years younger than her sister. And it was suddenly obvious what he was doing there. She had brought him home as the spoils of war. As Sasha looked at him, she remembered the lieutenant’s cryptic comment about her sister, that she was a handful. Now she could see why he’d said it. She was involved with one of the cops. Sasha was sure they’d appreciated it at the monastery. Valentina was incurable. There was always a guy, preferably with a gun. But at least this one was on the right side of the law. Sasha wondered what she would do with him now that she was back in her own world. The fast lane would provide its lures very soon, with all the flashy people she knew. Her young cop in the T-shirt would last about five minutes in her world. Sasha invited him to come in and sit down, and he hesitated and then went to pet the dog. Men seemed to love Charlie—every male in the room always gravitated to him.

Abby came out of her room and saw them then, and gave Valentina a hug. And Claire and her mother had done the same. It was always odd seeing her—it was like seeing Sasha, and yet totally different, but you expected them to be the same person. And they were anything but that.

“Welcome back,” Abby said warmly, trying not to stare at Bert and wondering who he was. He was actually older than he looked but not by much.

“Do you want me to leave you alone with the girls?” he asked Valentina politely, as they exchanged an intimate look that told the whole story of the past two months and what she had done at the monastery for entertainment. She had switched partners, but not her game.

“Sure,” Valentina said easily. “Do you want to come back in half an hour?”

He looked easygoing about it and followed her lead. “Can I take the dog for a walk?” he asked with a grin.

“He’d love it,” Abby answered as the dog sat up and gave Bert his paw, who shook it solemnly.

“I worked with a German shepherd for a while,” he said seriously, “in narcotics. He was great, but he got shot, and they had to put him down.”

“Lucky we didn’t do that to you,” Sasha said to her twin pointedly as Abby handed Bert the leash, and he and Charlie left. Sasha turned to her twin with a stern expression. “What in hell are you doing? How old is he?”

“Twenty-nine. He just looks like a kid. He’s an adult. Very much so.” She gave her sister a lascivious look, and Sasha groaned.

“What are you going to do with him now? The poor guy will get eaten alive in your world.”

“I’ve changed,” Valentina said demurely. “I don’t want to mess around with bad guys anymore. And how much better does it get than a cop? He’s one of the good guys, playing on the right team. And I feel safe with him.” Sasha was sorry to hear it, although he was admittedly an improvement over Jean-Pierre, who was as bad as she could have found.

“What about a doctor or a lawyer?”

“Yeah, or that nice guy Morgan worked for, who’s going to prison for the next hundred years. Not all the bad ones are so obvious,” she told her less-worldly sister. Sasha had led a protected life, by choice. And initially, Valentina had too. She’d gotten lost somewhere along the way, when money and fame and the fast track hit her too soon. “I like Bert. He makes me happy, he’s a sweet person. He takes care of me. He’s not complicated. He doesn’t care who I’ve been with or why. He lives for today.”

“Do you really want to be with a cop? Is he quitting the force for you?” Sasha hoped not, because Valentina would dump him in a hot minute when someone more exciting came along. She was sure her twin was going to break his heart, and possibly destroy his career, and she wouldn’t care a whit about it. She did whatever suited her, in the moment, with total disregard for the damage she caused. Sasha loved her sister, but she knew how selfish she was. She was a narcissist through and through.

“I don’t care what he does for a living. He’s nice to me,” she said simply.

“And he’s poor,” Sasha reminded her. “You don’t like poor men.” That was part of the problem too. She sold out for money every time, and most of the men whom she met with that kind of money were questionable or dangerous. At least he wasn’t.

“I have enough for both of us,” Valentina said casually, and then sat down near Claire and her mother. Abby had gone back to her room to continue packing. “What’s everyone been up to?”

“We’re starting a shoe business,” Claire told her. “My mom came to help me, and she’s living here now. And Abby is moving to L.A., to work on a movie for a year.”

“That’s a big change.” Valentina looked surprised. The cast of characters at the loft had been stable for years. It was shocking to think of one of them leaving, and then she realized her sister would too when she got married. “How’s the wedding coming?” she inquired.

“It’s in June. In New York. You’re the maid of honor,” Sasha informed her. “The girls are my bridesmaids. June fourteenth. You’d better be there,” Sasha said seriously.

“Can I bring Bert?” Valentina asked innocently.

“If he’s still around by then,” which she doubted. It was three and a half months away, a long time for her twin to be with the same guy.

“We’ll see,” Valentina said vaguely. Bert came back with the dog then, and kissed her lightly when he walked in.

“Great dog! We should get one like that,” he told Valentina, and she nodded. She looked like she was ready to do anything for him. Sasha remembered that Patty Hearst had married one of her police bodyguards, so people did sometimes, and got attached to the men who protected them. Maybe it worked. Valentina kissed her and then left with Bert to go to her apartment, in Tribeca. Jean-Pierre had been murdered at his place, not hers, so her apartment was pristine. Bert had brought some things over that afternoon, and she had invited him to move in. The detail was over, but their life together was just beginning. Sasha was still shaking her head when they left, and Claire grinned at her knowingly.

“At least he’s gainfully employed and won’t go to prison,” she commented. It was more than she could say about the man she’d been in love with, who was out on bail, still leading the high life, according to Page Six. He was getting money from somewhere. She went back to work on the spreadsheets then, and Sasha helped Morgan put the groceries away, thinking about Valentina and Bert. It was nice to have her back.

—

When Abby left at the beginning of March, it was heart-wrenching. They all felt as though they were losing a leg, or an arm, or some essential part of them. Abby was an integral part of their self-made family, and had been there for nine years with Claire. They all cried and were depressed for days afterward. Abby was staying with her parents in L.A. but was planning to get her own apartment. She said she’d move back in a year, but no one believed her. She would get entwined in the life of Hollywood, particularly if Josh’s indie film was a success, which sounded likely.