Never Leave Me (9 page)

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Authors: Harold Robbins

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BOOK: Never Leave Me
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“I’m not hiding it there,” she said pointedly.

“I wish you were,” I said, dragging my eyes back to her face. “But I got no luck. That would make business a pleasure.”

A faint flush crept into her cheeks. “What makes you think it can’t be?” she asked huskily.

Chapter Twelve

WE walked in through the big steel gate and I turned towards the building entrance. Her hand touched my arm. “This way,” she said.

I followed her around the corner of the building. There, hidden in an arch of privet hedges, was a door. She took a key from her bag and opened it. “Matt Brady’s private entrance,” she explained.

We were in a small corridor. A few feet from the door was an elevator. She pressed the button and its doors opened. We stepped inside and she turned to me smiling. “Matt Brady’s private elevator,” she said. I felt the elevator begin to climb. She was still smiling at me.

There was no refusing that invitation. I pulled her towards me. Her eyes were wide open as her arms went up around my neck and her lips opened under mine. I was right the first time. This kid was built for distance. She was still hanging on, even after the doors had opened.

At last she came up for air. Her eyes were shining. “I like you,” she said. I managed a grin. I had to play it safe.

“You’re my kind of guy,” she said. “I knew it from the minute you made him come and get you out of the washroom.”

I didn’t say a word.

“Damn!” she said, her eyes still on mine. That surprised me. “Why?” I asked.

Instead of explaining, she turned and started from the elevator. I followed her into Matt Brady’s private office. She walked around his desk and took a key from her purse. She hesitated a moment, then opened the desk and took out the report. “I’m a fool,” she said, the paper still in her hand. “You can turn copper on me.”

I didn’t answer, just stood there watching her. A moment passed; then without looking at it, she handed the paper to me. For the second time in a few seconds she had surprised me. “Aren’t you even going to look at it?” I asked.

She walked around me to her door and opened it. She stood there in the open doorway, looking back at me. “No,” she said. “I know you’re married, and it isn’t that I mean. But if another girl’s got you, I don’t want to know her name.”

The door closed behind her and I walked over to the window to get the light. I tipped my hat figuratively to Matt Brady. He may not have had much time in which to work, but there was very little that he had missed. My whole life was down there in those few sheets of paper. I scanned the sheets searching for her name.

I had nothing to worry about. The report merely stated that I had been accompanied by a woman who spent the night in my suite and that pursuant to instructions they would discontinue further observation. I dropped the papers on his desk and lit a cigarette.

I just had time enough for one drag when the door opened. “Well?” she asked. “I read it,” I answered, pointing to the sheets.

“Everything all right?” She came into the room, closing the door behind her.

“Yeah,” I answered, beginning to feel a little foolish. I moved towards her. “I don’t know how to thank you,” I added awkwardly.

She didn’t answer.

I moved towards the elevator. “I guess I’d better be going.”

“You can’t go right now,” she said. “You’ll be noticed. They’ll see the elevator signal on the control panel in the lobby and they’ll come to check.”

I stopped. “How do I get out of here then?”

A curious smile crossed her lips. “You have to wait for me. I leave about five-fifteen, when the rush is over.”

I checked my watch. It was almost four o’clock. The smile was still on her lips as she watched me. “Sit down and wait,” she said. “I’ll get you a drink.”

I crossed the room to the large sectional and sank onto it. “I can use one,” I said.

I watched her move about the office as she put the drink together. The ice cubes made a comforting clinking sound as she brought the glass over to me. I sipped it gratefully.

She slipped into a chair opposite me. “What are you going to do now, Brad?” she asked.

I took another pull at my drink. “Go back to New York and forget all about this,” I answered. “It won’t be as easy as that,” she said. “Matt Brady wants you.”

I smiled at her.

“Don’t smile,” she said seriously. “When you get back to the hotel, you’ll find a message there, asking you to dinner at his house this evening.”

“I won’t go,” I said.

“You’ll go,” she answered. “By the time you get back to your hotel, you’ll have thought it over.

You’ll remember all the money he was talking about, you’ll think about everything you can do with it and everything it can do for you.” She sipped her drink. “You’ll go.”

“You know all the answers,” I said, watching her.

Her eyes fell from mine. “I don’t,” she replied. “But I’ve seen this happen before. He’ll get you.

Money means nothing to him. He’ll pile it in front of you until your head spins. He’ll talk soft and tell you how great you are and how important you’ll be. And all the time you’ll be watching the pile of chips on the table grow until your eyes pop. Then tag—you’ve had it.”

I put my drink on the coffee table in front of me. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “What’s in it for you?”

She put her drink on the table next to mine. “I’ve seen many big and important people crawl to Matt Brady. It made me sick to see such fear.” Her voice trailed away and her eyes watched my face.

“So?” I asked softly.

“You’re big and strong and cocky. And there was no smell of fear around you. You weren’t so frightened that you couldn’t see me, that you thought I was a piece of furniture. I saw the way you looked at me.”

“How’d I look at you?” I asked.

She got to her feet and stood very straight before me. Then, slowly, she walked around the coffee table, towards me. I looked up at her, my eyes following every motion of her. She stopped in front of me and looked down. “Like you’re looking at me now,” she said.

I was silent. I made no move towards her.

That strangely curious smile came back to her lips. “I know you’re not for me,” she said. “I know another woman’s got you. And you know it too. I knew it when you kissed me. But that makes no difference.

“To you I’m not Matt Brady’s secretary, not a fixture in his office. I’m a human being, a separate identity, a woman. That’s the way you look at me.”

I didn’t say a word. The only thing of value on this earth was that each of us was an individual and not a cog in a machine. No man was better than another because of circumstance or fortune, but each important to his own.

I reached for my drink, but her hand caught mine and stopped it. I looked up at her, our eyes met and locked.

A pulse in my temple began to bang. I don’t know what made me stop. The price was right. She had everything a guy could want in a dame—except one thing. Love was missing. I was not for her.

Reluctantly I pushed her away. I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t know what to say. She stared into my face. “There is another woman, isn’t there?”

I nodded.

She took a deep breath and got to her feet. I looked up at her. There was a tremulous smile on her lips as she spoke. “That’s another thing I can like about you. You’re honest. You don’t cheat for cheating’s sake alone.”

She went back into her office, and in a few minutes I could hear the faint clacking of her typewriter. The minutes dragged away slowly. I walked over to the window and looked out at the foundries. Matt Brady had a right to be proud. If circumstances were different I could even learn to like the guy. But they weren’t. Maybe it was because what he said was true. We were too much alike.

Somewhere in the corridor outside the office a chime rang. Its mellow tone was still hanging in the air when she came back into the office. I turned to face her.

“It’s okay now. We can leave in a few minutes,” she said.

Chapter Thirteen

I PICKED up a taxi in front of the gate and was back at the hotel at a quarter to six. Strange thing, the male ego, and I suppose I have enough of it to do justice to six people. I felt good. Show me another guy who could turn down sixty grand and a luscious babe all in the same day.

I was proud of myself and I couldn’t wait to tell Elaine what a great man I was. I flung open the door of the suite and called out. “Elaine!”

There was no answer.

I closed the door behind me and saw a note propped up on the foyer table. My elation vanished like water down the drain and my heart sank in sudden apprehension. She couldn’t have gone and left me. She couldn’t!

I picked it up and relief ran through me like a breath of cool wind in a heat spell.

4.30 p.m.

“DARLING,

A woman can stand only so much. Then she goes to the beauty parlour. Should be back by six-thirty.

Love you,

ELAINE.”

I dropped the note on the table and crossed the room to the telephone. I picked it up and put in a call to the office.

Chris’s voice was excited. “How’d you make out, Brad?”

“Not so good,” I answered. “Brady wanted me to dump the whole deal and come to work for him.” “What did he offer?”

“Sixty grand a year,” I said. I could hear Chris whistle even without the phone. “He likes me,” I added caustically.

A note of satisfaction came into Chris’s voice. “When do you start?” he asked. “I don’t,” I said flatly. “I turned him down.”

“You’re crazy!” he said incredulously. “Nobody in his right mind turns down that kind of money.” “Better reserve a room for me at the Cornell Clinic, then,” I said, “because that’s what I did.” “But, Brad!” he protested. “It’s the kind of setup you’ve been looking for. You can take the job and

keep your interest here on the quiet. I can handle this end for you and there’d be a nice melon for us to cut up each year.”

There was a note in his voice I had never heard before. An echo of ambition, a cold desire to be top dog. I didn’t like the way we suddenly had become partners. “I said I didn’t want the job, Chris,” I said coldly. “And I’m still boss. The only thing I’m looking for is the industry account.”

“If you cross Matt Brady,” he said, the ambition dying painfully in his voice, “you can forget the account.”

“That’s my headache,” I said flatly.

“Okay, Brad, if that’s the way you want it,” he said. “That’s the way I want it,” I answered.

There was an awkward pause for a moment, then came the question. “Coming back to-night?”

The answer sprang quickly to my lips. “No. To-morrow. I have another meeting with Brady to- night.”

“Shall I call Marge and tell her?” he asked formally. “I’ll call her,” I said. “See you to-morrow.”

“Keep punching,” he said as we hung up, but there was no enthusiasm in his voice.

I gave the operator my home number. I had time to pour myself a drink before Marge came on the wire. It tasted good. I was beginning to like the stuff, I thought grimly, as I heard her voice.

“Hello, baby,” I said.

Her voice was pleased. “Brad.” She knew me too well to ask what had happened. I would tell her soon enough. “You sound tired.”

I’d only said two words and she knew I was beat. “I’m okay,” I said quickly. “That Brady’s a rough deal.”

“Were you at his office all day?” she asked.

I was glad she put it that way. At least I wouldn’t have to lie. “Yeah,” I said. “He offered me a job.

Sixty grand a year.”

“You don’t sound happy about it,” she said.

“I’m not,” I said. “I turned it down. I don’t like him.”

I had a fast moment of misery at the faith in her answer.

“You know what you’re doing, Brad,” she said without hesitation.

“I hope so,” I said. “It might mean missing out on the whole steel account.” “There’ll be others,” she said. “I’m not worried.”

“I’ll know more before the night’s over,” I said quickly. “I’m going over to his house for dinner.” “Whatever you do is all right with me,” she said.

Her trust was making me uncomfortable. I got off the subject quickly. “How’s Jeanie?”

“She’s fine,” Marge answered. “But she’s acting very mysterious. She keeps hinting to me about a surprise for our anniversary. I wonder what she has up her sleeve.”

“Nothing but her arm, if I know her,” I laughed. The odds were even money she would tell Marge about the coat before the anniversary arrived. “Hear anything from Brad?”

“A letter came this morning. He still has his cold and is staying in bed a few days. I’m worried.” “Don’t worry, baby,” I said. “He’ll be okay.”

“But if he’s in bed, he must be sick. You know how he is.”

“He’s probably no more sick than I am,” I said. “He’s just grabbing a few days off from school.” “But——”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby. Stop worrying. I’ll see you to-morrow.” “Okay, Brad,” she said. “Hurry home. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” I said. “Bye.”

I put down the phone, added more Scotch and ice to my drink and put my feet up on the couch. I felt strange. There was something wrong with me, but I didn’t dig it. Old man Conscience should be kicking my teeth in by now but he wasn’t even giving me any attention. Maybe Matt Brady’s girl was wrong; maybe I wasn’t any different than all those other jokers. Could be I was a natural-born cheatin’ man with only room for one dame at a time. Or maybe I got to it a little late. I don’t know.

Elaine. Her name came into my mind and I smiled at the thought of her. If ever there was a woman made for man, she was it. Everything about her was class and sheer delight. Her face, her eyes, her

trim tight little figure and the way she walked. I took another pull on my drink and closed my eyes to see her better. It was like turning off the lights to dream, and I did.

In the dream she was the little girl who lived on Sutton Place. I remember I used to go over from our railroad flat on Third Avenue just under the El tracks to watch her. She was so pretty with her long, golden hair and her primly-dressed governess always hovering near her.

She never even looked at me until one day her blue and red ball rolled over to me. I picked it up and shyly held it towards her.

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