Danielle Steel - The Promise

There were already a number of people in the lobby of the building and the elevator was almost full as he rode upstairs. Even at that hour, the business world was bustling. After the slower pace of San Francisco, and even Los Angeles, it was a shock to be back in the mainstream again. In Mecca, people started early. But at least there seemed to be no one else at work on his floor when he walked down the long, beigecarpeted, wood-paneled hall to the office Marion had given him when he'd joined the firm. It was smaller and far less handsome than Mike's office, but it was well put together. Marion spared no expense on the offices of Cotter-Hillyard.

Ben looked at his watch as he shrugged out of his coat and rubbed his hands together for a moment to get warm. There was no getting used to the freezing winds and damp cold of New York. Some winters he wondered if he'd ever get warm, and why he put up with it when there were cities like San Francisco, where people lived in a temperate dream world all year long. Even his office felt icy cold. But he had no time to waste. He emptied the contents of his brief-case on his desk, and began to sort through the papers and reports. Everything had gone splendidly. With one minor exception. And maybe something could still be done about that. He looked at his watch again after a few moments, grew pensive, and then decided to give it a try. It would be a major coup if he could come into the meeting with that one last piece of good news.

Ben had brought home a few samples of Marie Adamson's work; he had had to buy them at the gallery. But he had been sure they were worth the investment; once Marion and Michael got a look at her style, and saw just how good she was, Marion herself would probably get into the act, and talk the girl into signing. He smiled at the thought that would have sent shivers up Marie's spine.

He dialed her number and waited. It was an insane thing to do. In San Francisco, it was five fifteen in the morning, but maybe if he could get her half asleep …

“Hello?” She sounded groggy when she answered the phone.

“Uh … Miss … Miss Adamson, I'm terribly sorry to do this to you, but this is Ben Avery in New York. I'm going into a meeting this morning with the head of our firm, and I want more than anything to tell her that you'll work with us on the medical center. I just thought that-—” But he already knew he had done the wrong thing. He could sense it in the silence that overwhelmed him from the other end, and then suddenly she came alive.

“At five o'clock in the morning? You called to tell me about your meeting with … for Chrissake, what kind of crazy business is this? I told you no, didn't I? What the hell do I have to do? Get an unlisted phone number?” As he listened to her, he closed his eyes, partially in embarrassment, and partially because of something else. The voice. It was strange. He didn't know why, but it sounded familiar. And it didn't sound like Marie Adamson. It was higher, younger, and different enough to strike a chord of memory that bothered him. Whom did she sound like? But he couldn't remember. “Haven't you gotten the message yet, for Chrissake?”

Her angry words brought him back to the present and the reality that he was indeed speaking to Marie Adamson, and she was far from pleased with his phone call. “I'm really sorry. I know this was an insane thing to do. I just hoped that—”

“I told you. No. I will not listen to, discuss, consider, ponder, or further speak to you about your lousy medical center. Now leave me alone.” And with that she hung up on him again, and he sat there with the dead phone in his hand, smiling sheepishly.

“Okay, guys. I blew it.” He said the words to himself, or thought he did. He hadn't seen Mike leaning easily in the doorway.

“Welcome home. What did you blow?" Mike didn't look particularly concerned. He looked very pleased to see his friend as he sauntered into the room and sat down in one of the large, comfortable leather chairs. “It's good to see you back, you know.”

“Nice to be back. But it's damn cold in this town. Jesus, after San Francisco, I may never readjust.”

“We'll be sure to keep you on the Southern route from now on, O delicate one.” He grinned at his friend. “And what was that phone call about?”

“The one and only hair in my soup on this trip.” He ran a hand through his hair in irritation and sat back in his chair. “Absolutely everything went the way we wanted. Your mother is going to be in ecstasy over the reports. With one exception. Granted it's a minor problem, but I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“Should I start worrying?”

“No. I'm just pissed. I found an artist. A girl. A marvelous photographer. I mean really a huge talent, Mike, not just some kid with a Brownie. She is brilliant. I saw her current show in San Francisco, and I wanted to sign her for the lobby decor in all the main buildings. You know, the photographic motif we all okayed at the last meeting before I left.”

“And?”

“And she told me to drop dead. She won't even discuss it.” He looked beaten as he said it.

“Why? Too commercial for her?” Mike looked unimpressed.

“I don't even know why. She went into a tailspin from the first time I called her. It just doesn't make any sense.”

But Mike was smiling at him with an expression of cynical amusement. “Of course it makes sense, my naive friend. She's just holding out for big money. She knows who we are, so she figures she'll play hard to get and hit us up for a fat contract. Is she really that good?”

“The best. I brought you some samples of her work. You'll love them.”

“Then maybe she'll get what she wants. Show me later. First, there's something I want to ask you.” Mike looked momentarily serious. This was a subject he'd been meaning to bring up for weeks.

“Anything wrong?” Ben was quick to pick up on his mood.

“No, in fact I feel like a horse's ass even asking you. It shows how out of touch I've been. But… well… is there something between you and Wendy?”

Ben searched his face for a moment before answering. Mike looked curious, but not hurt. Of course, Ben had known about Wendy's affair with Mike. But it was no secret that Mike had never cared about her. Still, Ben found it a little odd picking up his old friend's castoff. This had been the first time it had happened, and he had never been quite sure how Mike would take it when he found out. And the truth was, he and Wendy were in love. They had spent an incredible month together on the business trip to the coast. Wendy had teasingly called it their honeymoon.

“Well, Avery, what's up? You haven't answered my question.” But now there was a small smile playing around Mike's mouth. He already knew.

“I feel like a jerk for not telling you sooner. But the answer is yes. Does it bother you, Mike?”

“Why should it? I'm embarrassed to admit that I … well, I haven't exactly kept up with things. I'm sure Wendy told you how wonderfully attentive I was.” He sounded bitter at the last words, but Ben's tone was gentle in reply.

“She never said anything, except that she thought you weren't a very happy man. That doesn't exactly come as a shock to either of us, pal, does it?” Mike nodded silently. “I didn't move in on your scene with her, Mike. I want you to know that You two had stopped going out for a while. And to tell you the truth, I always did have kind of a soft spot for her.”

“I suspected that when you hired her. She's a hell of a nice girl. Better than I deserved.” And then he smiled again. “And probably better than you deserve too. Hey, wait a minute.” There was pure mischief in his eyes now. “Is this serious by any chance?”

Ben grinned at his friend and then nodded. “I think so.”