Danielle Steel - Malice

At three-thirty that afternoon, he forced her to go home, and said he'd fire her if she didn't. But something had changed between them, and they both knew it. They were allies now, not enemies, and she was there to help him.

Chapter 11

June was incredible in New York that year. It was warm and lush, with hot, breezy days, and balmy nights. The kind of nights where people used to sit on their stoops and hang out the windows. The kind of weather that made people fall in love or wish they had someone to fall in love with.

There were two new women in Charles Mackenzie's life that month, and Grace was aware of both of them, though she wasn't sure she liked either one of them.

One was someone he said he had grown up with, she was divorced and had two kids in college. The other was the producer of a hit Broadway show. He seemed to have a definite attraction to the theater. He had even given two tickets to the play to Grace, and she had taken Winnie and they'd loved it.

“What's he really like?” Winnie asked her afterwards when they went to Sardi's for cheesecake.

“Nice … very, very nice …” Grace admitted. “It took me a long time to say that. I kept thinking he was going to try and tear my clothes off, and I hated him for it before he even tried.”

“Well, did he?” Winnie asked hopefully. She was desperate for Grace to fall in love with someone.

“Of course not. He's a perfect gentleman.” She told her about California.

“That's too bad.” Winnie sounded disappointed. Grace was her vicarious thrill in life, her only contact with youth, and the daughter she'd never had. She wanted great things for her. And especially a handsome husband.

“He's got a bunch of women running after him. But I don't think he's really crazy about anyone. I think his ex-wife really burned him. He doesn't say much, and he's pretty decent about her, but I get the impression she took a chunk of him.” Not only financially, but a piece of his heart that had never recovered.

“One of the girls on fourteen said it cost him close to a million dollars,” Winnie said in a whisper.

“I meant emotionally,” Grace said primly. “Anyway, he's a nice man. And he works like a dog. He stays there till all hours.” He always called a cab for her, or a limousine when she worked late for him, and he was always careful to let her go on time the nights she worked at St. Andrew's. “He's very considerate.” And he had been complaining ever since she'd told him about St. Andrew's. He thought the neighborhood was just too dangerous for her to be going there by subway at night. He didn't even like it on Sundays.

“At least take a cab,” he growled. But it would have cost her a fortune. And she had been doing it for months now with no problem.

Winnie told her then that Tom's wife was having another baby. And they both laughed wondering how long it would take for Bill's wife to start another baby too. The two men were like clones of each other.

After they left the restaurant, they hailed a taxi and Grace dropped Winnie off and went home herself, thinking how much she liked her job now.

Charles went to California again in June, but he didn't take her this time. He only stayed for a day, and he said it wasn't worth it. And the weekend he came back, she worked with him on Saturday in the office. They worked till six o'clock, and he apologized for not taking her to dinner afterwards. He had a date, but he felt terrible working her all day and then not doing anything to reward her.

“Next week you should take a friend to ‘21’ and charge it to me,” he suggested, looking pleased at the idea, “or tonight, if you like.” Grace knew immediately that she'd take Winnie, and the older woman would be ecstatic about it.

“You don't have to do that for me,” Grace said shyly.

“I want to. You have to get something out of this, you know. There are supposed to be perks for working for the boss. I'm not sure what they're supposed to be, but dinner at ‘21’ should definitely be one of them, so make yourself a reservation.” He never tried to take her out and she loved that about him. She was completely relaxed with him now. And she thanked him again before they both left. She thought he had a date with someone new, and she somehow had the impression that she was a lawyer in a rival law firm. There had been a lot of messages lately from Spielberg and Stein.

She stayed home and watched television that night, but she called Winnie and told her about their dinner at ‘21,’ and Winnie was so excited, she said she wouldn't sleep in the meantime.

And the next day, Grace went down to St. Andrew's as usual. The weather was still warm, and there were lots of people in the streets now, which, in some ways, made it safer for her.

She had a long, hard day, working with the new intakes. The warm weather was bringing them in in droves. Somehow, there always seemed to be new excuses for their beatings.

She had dinner in the kitchen with Sister Eugene and Father Tim and she was telling them about the movie stars she'd seen in the lobby of the hotel when she went to California.

“All was well?” he asked. They hadn't had time to talk about it in the month since she'd been there and back, but he assumed so, or she would have told him.

“It was great.” She beamed.

It was eleven o'clock when she left, which was later than she usually left on a Sunday. She thought about taking a cab, but the weather was so warm, she decided to take the subway after all. She hadn't even gotten a block away when someone grabbed her arm and yanked her hard into a doorway. She saw instantly that he was a tall, thin black man, and she suspected that he was a drug addict or just a petty thief. Something in her gut went tight, and she watched him as he shook her hard and then slammed her against the door where they were standing.

“You think you're a smart bitch, don't you? You think you know it all …” He put his hands around her throat, and her eyes never left his. He didn't seem to want her money. All he wanted was to abuse her.

“I don't know anything,” she said calmly, not wanting to frighten him, as he almost strangled her in a fury. “Let go, man … you don't want to do this.”

“Oh yes, I do,” and then, in a single gesture, he flicked out a long, thin knife and pressed it to her throat with a single practiced gesture. Without moving an inch, she was instantly reminded of her time in prison. But there was no one to save her now … no Luana … no Sally …

“Don't do it … just take my bag. There's fifty dollars in it, it's all I've got … and my watch.” She held her arm out. It was the farewell gift Cheryl had given her in Chicago, A small price to pay for her life now.

“I don't want your fucking watch, bitch … I want Isella.”

“Isella?” She had no idea what he was talking about. He reeked of cheap Scotch and sweat as he held her against his chest with his switchblade at her throat.

“My wife … you took my wife … and now she won't come back … she says she's goin’ back to Cleveland …”

It was about St. Andrew's, then, and one of the women she'd helped there.

“I didn't take her … I didn't do anything … maybe you should talk to her … maybe if you get help, she'll come back …”

“You took my kids …” He was crying then, and his whole body seemed to be twitching, as she frantically searched her memory for a woman named Isella, but she couldn't remember her. She saw so many women there. She wondered if she'd ever seen this one. Usually, she remembered who they were. But not Isella.

“No one can take your kids away from you … or your wife … you have to talk to them … you need help … what's your name?” Maybe if she called him by name he wouldn't kill her.