Danielle Steel - Impossible

He ordered a brandy when they got to the Carlyle, and she ordered a cup of tea. She had had enough wine at dinner, and the last thing she wanted was to drink too much with him. She didn't want to lose control with him. After this, it would be easier. But this trip was the first time she'd seen him after their torrid affair. She had to find a new way of seeing and dealing with him. Their strictly professional relationship was still new to her.

They chatted for a while about nothing in particular, and then she surprised him and herself by telling him about her conversation the night before with Tatianna. She hadn't intended to tell him, but somehow, before she could stop herself, she did.

“I don't know why I just told you that,” she said, looking embarrassed. “Maybe I wanted you to know I stood up for you after all. Too late for us, but not too late for you. The stupid thing is that Tatianna backed down as soon as I took a hard line with her.” She looked apologetically at Liam. “I just wasn't ready to do it in July. Maybe I should have. And I know it's what you needed me to do. But at least I did it now.” She wasn't telling him to impress him, she just wanted him to know that she had finally defended his honor, and her own.

“It's all right, Sasha,” he said gently. “I understand. You were in a tough spot. We both were. It's funny how those things happen sometimes. Everything collides at once, the past, the present, the future. New people, old people, ghosts from the past. I get confused sometimes between my family and other people. It just hit a lot of buttons for me. She's just a kid, and she's your kid. I should have understood that. I do now. But it took me a long time. Too long,” he said sadly.

“Thank you for being nice about it,” she said with a smile. “I know it was awful for you. It was hard for me, too, but you're right. She's my kid. And the truth is, as far as you're concerned, she's an adult and didn't act like one. Maybe we all act like children sometimes.”

“I make a point of it,” he said with a rueful grin, and they both laughed. “In fact, I take pride in it. I've made a lifetime career of being immature.”

“What brought that on?” she asked, looking amused. He was funny sometimes. As she looked at him, she realized again how much she had missed him in the last four months, and always would.

“Old age, I think. I'm turning forty-one.” Listening to him, she groaned.

“Please, don't tell me your sob stories. I'm turning fifty in May. Shit, how did I get this old?” And this stupid, she wanted to add. Suddenly she wished she had confronted Tatianna in July, but the timing wasn't right for her, and wasn't in the cards at the time.

“You're not old, Sasha. You're still young and beautiful. I don't know why everyone gets so cranked up about their age. I do too. I keep wanting to pretend I'm a kid, and I'm not. I'm growing up, much as I hate to admit it. I don't know why we think youth is so wonderful. If I remember mine correctly, it sucked. So did my judgment then. Things are better now.”

“I wish I could say the same.” She sat back against the banquette and looked at him. It was odd. They had gone from lovers to art dealer and artist, and maybe now, in the end, they'd wind up friends. She could talk to him better and more easily than she could to anyone she knew. Except maybe Xavier. But he was her son. There were things she could admit to Liam that she would never say to him. “Sometimes I think the older I get, the less I know.”

“You know a lot. You're the smartest person I know, about a lot of things. And the best damn art dealer in the world.”

“We make a good team,” she said, and then caught herself, realizing what she'd said, and suddenly embarrassed. She didn't want him to think she was pursuing him. She wasn't. She was making a concerted effort not to, which wasn't easy. “About art, I mean.”

“We didn't do so badly at other things. Most of the time. We just got out of whack sometimes.” It was a mild understatement, from Sasha's point of view. Out of the eleven months they'd known each other, they'd been separated twice, for a total of six months, which meant that most of the time, they didn't get along.

“You're being generous,” she said, and then finished her tea. They had sat in the bar at the Carlyle for two hours. It was time to go home. They couldn't drag it out any longer, the bar was closing.

The doorman hailed a cab for them, and he dropped her off at her place. She would have loved to ask him up, but she knew she couldn't. She would only want him more, and there was no point. That part of their experience with each other was over, for good this time, and they both knew it. There was no hiding from that now. Age hadn't done them in, life had, and values and lifestyle, and Tatianna. Destiny. It wasn't meant to be, no matter how attracted they were to each other, and it was obvious they still were.

He looked at her for a moment before she got out. “Thank you for a fantastic opening.” He hesitated, and touched her hand. “I'm leaving for Vermont on Friday.” He didn't know how long she'd be in town. “Can I take you to dinner tomorrow, Sasha? To thank you for tonight, and for old times' sake?” She didn't even know if he had a girlfriend at the moment. She believed he honestly wanted to take her out as a friend.

“I'm not sure that's such a great idea. We always get in trouble when we do that,” she said honestly, and he laughed.

“You can trust me. I'll behave. I promise.”

“The one I don't trust is me.” She was being frank with him, she always was, and had been, right from the first.

“Now there's an appealing thought. “Emerging artist ravished by art dealer, sues for sexual harrassment.' I trust you, and if you make a pass at me, I'll yell rape. Why don't we give it a try?” He took the tension out of his invitation, and she nodded. She loved being with him, and talking to him.

“I'll try to control myself,” she said with an impish grin. He was dying to kiss her goodnight, but didn't. He didn't want to spoil anything between them now, and he could see that she was scared. So was he.

“I'll pick you up at the gallery at six. I want to come in and admire my work, especially now that it's all sold.” She laughed, got out, and waved as she walked into her building. He waved back as the cab pulled away.

She let herself into the silent apartment, thinking of when he had been there with her. The place felt like it was full of ghosts now. Arthur. Liam. Even the children were gone. The reality of her life now was that she was alone. Probably forever. The one thing she couldn't let herself do, she reminded herself, as she took off her coat, was let herself fall for Liam again, no matter how tempting and charming he was. They had proven it was impossible twice. They didn't need to do it again.

Chapter 19

Liam came to pick her up at the gallery, promptly at six as he had promised. He glanced at his paintings as they left. It was an odd feeling knowing he wouldn't see them again. It was like having put his children up for adoption. He had given birth to them, and now he had to let them go. He felt nostalgic as they rode downtown in the cab. He had made a reservation for them at Da Silvano. They had gone there often in July. It was a popular Italian restaurant downtown, with waiters who sang when they felt like it, and the food was good.

They talked about art, as usual, people they knew, friends of his she'd met, her children and his. He said Tom was doing well in college, and the others were fine, too. Eventually, he talked about Beth. He admitted that it was a weird feeling knowing she was getting remarried. Their divorce was going to be final by Christmas. She still hadn't forgiven him for Becky, and he knew she never would.