Danielle Steel - Journey

“There's no such thing as too much sex, Mad. It's good for us. I love making love to you when we're on vacation.” But he didn't do badly when they were at home either. He seemed to have an insatiable appetite for Maddy And most of the time, she liked it, except when he got too rough with her, or carried away, as he had in Paris.

But he did it again on their last night at Claridge's. They had been dancing at Annabel's, and the moment they got back to their suite and closed the door, he slammed her against the wall, pulled down her pants, and nearly raped her. She tried to make him wait, or go into the bedroom with her, but he shoved her against the wall and wouldn't stop, and then he dragged her into the bathroom and took her on the marble floor, while she begged him to stop. He was hurting her again, but he was so excited he didn't hear her. And afterward, he apologized, and lifted her gently into a tub of warm water.

“I don't know what you do to me, Mad. It's all your fault,” he said, as he rubbed her back, and a moment later, slipped into the water with her. She looked at him suspiciously, worried that he would want her again, but this time when he began caressing her, he took her ever so gently. Life with him was a constant merry-go-round of pleasure and pain, terror and passion, infinite gentleness coupled with just a hint of something terrifyingly brutal and cruel. It would have been hard to explain to anyone, and would have embarrassed her to do so. He made her do things sometimes that afterward made her feel awkward. But he assured her that there was nothing wrong with it, they were married and he loved her, and when he hurt her, he always told her that she drove him so insane, it was her fault. It was flattering, but nonetheless, at times, very painful. And she felt continually confused.

When they flew home at last, their two weeks seemed more like a month's vacation. She felt closer to him than she had in a long time, and they had done some fun things. For two weeks, he had turned his full attention on her. He hadn't left her side for a minute, he had spoiled her in every possible way, and made love to her so many times that she could no longer keep track of what they had done, or how often they'd done it.

The night they got back to the house in Georgetown, Maddy felt as though she'd been on a honeymoon with him, and Jack kissed her as he followed her into the hallway. He carried their bags upstairs, along with the suitcase she'd bought to accommodate the new things she'd bought in London and Paris. She listened to their messages on the machine, while Jack went downstairs to get the mail, and Maddy was surprised to hear four messages from her co-anchor, Greg Morris. He sounded serious on the machine, and she glanced at her watch, but it was too late to call him back.

There was nothing interesting in the mail, and after a snack, they both showered and went to bed, and got up early the next morning.

They chatted on the way to work, and Maddy left Jack in the lobby, and went upstairs to her office. She was anxious to see Greg and tell him about the trip, and she was surprised when she didn't see him in his office. She went on to her own, and read all her messages and mail, and as usual, there was a stack of fan mail. At ten o'clock, when she still hadn't seen Greg, she got worried. She went out to her secretary and asked her if Greg was sick, and Debbie looked at her, and was obviously feeling awkward.

“I … uh … he … I guess no one told you,” she said finally.

“Told me what?” Maddy said with a look of panic. “Did something happen to him?” Maybe he had an accident, and no one had wanted to upset her while she was away.

“He left,” she said bluntly.

“For where?” Maddy didn't understand what she was saying.

“He doesn't work here anymore, Mrs. Hunter. I thought someone would have told you. Your new co-anchor starts on Monday. I think you're on alone. Greg left the day after you went on vacation.”

“He what?” She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Did he have an argument with someone and walk off the set?”

“I don't know the details,” she lied, but she didn't want to be the one to tell her. And the words weren't out of her mouth before Maddy was flying down the hall to the producer's office.

“What in hell happened to Greg?” she asked, as the producer looked up at her. Rafe Thompson was a tall, tired-looking man who looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and at times he did.

“He's gone” was all he answered.

“I know that much. Where? And when? And why? I want answers to those questions,” she asked, as her eyes blazed.

“There was a change in format on the show. He didn't fit in. I think he's going to be doing sports on NBC now. I don't know the details.”

“Bullshit. That's what Debbie told me. Who does know the details?” But she already knew the answer to her question, and she went up to Jack's office without waiting another minute. She walked right into his office without being announced, and looked at him from across his desk. He had just put down the phone and his desk was covered with papers, the price to pay for a two-week vacation. “Did you fire Greg?” she asked without preamble, and he looked at her for a long moment.

“We made an executive decision,” he said calmly.

“What does that mean, and why didn't you tell me when we were in Europe?” She felt as though she'd been tricked.

“I didn't want to upset you, Mad. I thought you deserved a real vacation.”

“I had a right to know that you fired my co-anchor.” It explained the four messages on her machine the night before, and the tone of Greg's voice. She realized now that he had sounded upset, and it was no wonder. “Why did you fire him? He's terrific. And so were his ratings.”

“We didn't think so,” Jack said smoothly. “He's not as good as you are, sweetheart. We needed someone stronger as a balance to you.”

“What do you mean ‘stronger’?” She didn't understand what he was saying, and she was upset about the decision and the way it had been handled.

“He's too soft, too effeminate, you run right over him, and you're a lot more professional than he is. I'm sorry. You need someone with a little more personality and a lot more experience.”

“So who did you hire?” she asked, looking worried. She was still upset about Greg, she had loved working with him, and he was her closest friend.

“Brad Newbury. I don't know if you remember him. He used to do news from the Middle East on CNN. He's terrific. I think you're going to love working with him,” Jack said firmly.

“Brad Newbury?” Maddy looked stunned. “He can't even make a war zone sound exciting. Whose idea was that?”

“It was a collective decision. He's a pro, and a seasoned reporter. We think he's the perfect counterpoint to you.” Maddy hated his style, and had never liked him. And the few times they'd met he'd been arrogant and condescending to her.

“He's dry and he's dull, and he has no appeal on the air,” she said, looking frantic. “For God's sake, he's going to put everyone to sleep. He even made the trouble in the Middle East sound boring.”

“He's a very skilled reporter.”

“And so is Greg. Our ratings had never been higher.”

“Your ratings had never been higher, Mad. His were starting to slip. I didn't want to worry you, but he would have taken you down with him.”

“I just don't understand it,” she said, “and I don't know why you didn't tell me.”

“Because I didn't want to upset you. This is business, Maddy. Show business. We have to keep our eye on the ball here.” But she was still depressed about it when she got back to her office and called Greg.