Too Damn Rich (71 page)

"In fact," she added softly, "I like you a
damn lot."

"Gee, thanks," he said sarcastically. "Makes
all the difference."

"But I like Hannes, too."

"No doubt a whole lot also," he observed
wryly.

Her expression did not change. "That's
right," she nodded.

"Well," Charley sighed, "I won't pretend the
truth doesn't hurt."

"At any rate," Kenzie continued, "to
uncomplicate matters, I thought it best to keep the two of you
separate."

Charley simply stared at her.

"I also thought it fair to give each of you
equal time."

"Did you now?" he said bitterly. "Just like
opposing opinions on TV?"

"Just until we all know where we stand
emotionally," she emphasized. "I have, therefore, decided that
Hannes can see me Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays."

"Yeah?"

"Which means," she said, "that Tuesdays,
Thursdays, and Saturdays are yours."

"Gee. An' Sundays? What about Sundays?"

"On Sundays," she said succinctly, "I
rest."

"Sounds like you're gonna need it."

She shrugged.

"Also sounds like you wanna have your cake
and eat it, too."

"I will not," she said, "dignify that with a
response."

"Sure you're not playin' one of us against
the other?"

"Charley," she said patiently. "I'm trying to
keep the two of you from each other's throats." She sat erect, her
hands folded. "So. Are you in agreement?"

He eyed her narrowly. "You float this by
Blondie yet?"

"I discussed it with Hannes," she said.
"Yes."

"An'?"

"He didn't voice any complaints."

"I bet he didn't!" Charley was silent for a
moment. "And if I do?"

"I'm hoping it doesn't come to that," Kenzie
said softly.

"That like me hopin' Blondie drops dead?"

"Charley, look," she said. "I'm trying to
make this as painless as possible for all three of us." She took a
deep breath. "You can either take it or leave it."

He stared at her.

She stared back at him.

"Oh, great!" He rubbed a hand over his face.
"I get to choose between the devil and the fuckin' deep blue
sea!"

"I'm sorry if that's the way you perceive it,
Charley."

"Shit." He shook his head. "You really know
how to kick a guy where it hurts, don't you?"

"Hurting you is the furthest thing from my
mind. I'm only trying to be fair."

"Yeah." He gave a negating snort.
"Right."

She waited, her mouth pressed in a thin tight
line.

"Well, I don't do my best thinking on an
empty stomach," he said. "An' last I heard, ca-pu-cci-no doesn't
qualify as a meal. Am I correct in surmising that we're not leavin'
here and goin' someplace for real food?"

"You surmise correctly."

"Then how come you got all doozied up? You
ask me, basic black with spaghetti straps ain't exactly a coffee
bar getup."

"No," Kenzie said softly, "it's not."

"So. What gives?"

"It's Friday night," she said gently.

"Fri—" He slapped his forehead. "Oh, yeah.
How stupid of me. This is Blondie's night!"

Kenzie flinched as though she'd been
struck.

"So you and him," Charley said, "are gonna go
do dinner. And whatever."

She raised her chin. "That's right."

"Well, fuck you!" he shouted angrily. "Fuck
you both!"

And jumping up, he knocked over his stool and
stormed out.

"I broke the news to Charley," Kenzie told
Hannes over dinner at Prive, on East Eightieth Street.

"How did he take it?"

She sighed and sipped her white wine
spritzer. "Not well, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Kenzie."

She nodded. "So am I," she said. Then she
smiled. "Do you know, he believes you might be dangerous?"

"Me!" Hannes laughed. "What a marvelous
absurdity. Look at me, Kenzie! I am still walking around with a
bruised face."

"I know." Kenzie smiled.

She ate a bite of grilled vegetable and goat
cheese tart.

"It gives you that dashing, heroic air," she
added.

He laughed and then abruptly fell silent.

"Kenzie, has it occurred to you," he asked
slowly, "that Charley might have a point?"

She gave a start. "What do you mean?" She
stared at him.

"Well, he may have every reason for feeling
paranoid. What he did to me, for example."

"Yes?"

"He could quite honestly be unaware of having
done it."

"Hannes—"

"Please, Kenzie. Listen to me. Charley drinks
quite heavily."

"True."

"Perhaps he suffers blackouts. That would
explain why he doesn't remember what he did."

"Oh, God. Now you're frightening me!"

"He would never wish you harm, Kenzie. At
least, not intentionally."

She tried to draw comfort from what he said,
but she felt a chill instead.

Charley may not want to hurt me, she thought.
But who can predict what he might do in a blackout?

Hannes was watching her. "I'm so sorry,
Kenzie. I didn't mean to alarm you."

She pasted on a smile. "You didn't," she
lied.

Charley's always been gentle with me, she
told herself. He's never shown violent tendencies. Being scared of
him is ridiculous—

—or isn't it?

Suddenly she really didn't know.

Sweeties!" Dina trilled.

Arms flung wide in welcome, she tossed kisses
left and right. "How was the honeymoon? Zandra, I simply must hear
all about it. Goodness! Heinzie, you're both tanned as nuts. Well?
Do sit down. I apologize for these humble quarters. It's only
temporary, but it already feels like forever ..."

While their apartment was being redecorated,
the Goldsmiths, their majordomo, Dina's personal maid, and a small
selection of their museum-quality paintings were camping out in
high style at the Carlyle Hotel. The "humble quarters"—a
four-bedroom corner suite which rented for $24,000 a month—was on a
high floor, with both north- and west-facing views. The foyer had a
marble floor, the enormous living room a grand piano, and each
bedroom an en suite bath. A separate room on a lower floor had been
converted into an office for Gaby.

Julio hovered discreetly.

"Champagne," Dina decreed as they got settled
on plump floral chintz sofas. "Cristal. And send downstairs for tea
sandwiches."

She beamed at Zandra and Karl-Heinz.

They both looked radiant, exactly like a
couple returning from their honeymoon should look. Obviously,
marriage agreed with them.

As well it should. They had everything anyone
could possibly want. Wealth, power, glamour—you name it.

Well, almost everything, Dina thought. But
she had to wait for the right moment before raising that particular
subject.

Meanwhile, there was much gossip and news to
exchange. It had been two weeks since the wedding, and Dina
realized she didn't even know where the happy couple had
honeymooned.

"Oh, sweeties, this is fantastic!" she
purred. "I couldn't wait for the two of you to get back. Without
you, this city's been dull, dull, dull!"

Karl-Heinz laughed. "You're not prone to
exaggeration, are you?"

"Me?" Dina laughed. "Of course not. Anyway,
do tell! Where did you get those magnificent tans?"

"Oh, these? Why, Mustique, darling. Where
else?"

"Mustique!" Dina looked nonplussed. "But ...
it's so quiet there."

"Dead, actually," Zandra said cheerfully.

"My point exactly. And you didn't go
stir-crazy? Not in two entire weeks? Sweeties, what did you do
there?"

"Oh, Dina, really."

Zandra exchanged a sly, amused glance with
Karl-Heinz.

"Darling, what do you think couples do on
their honeymoons?"

"I see. Well, we needn't get into that. Ah!
Saved by Julio and the champagne."

While Julio uncorked the bottle and poured,
Dina eyed the newly- weds closely. There was something different
about Zandra and Karl- Heinz ... something she couldn't quite put
her finger on.

Then suddenly she knew what it was. They
really were a couple. And there was something else, too. They were
happy. You could tell just by looking into their eyes.

Whether they realize it or not, she thought,
they're in love. Genuinely in love!

Julio drifted away and Dina raised her
glass.

"A toast," she proposed. "Here's to the both
of you and the timely arrival of a bundle of joy."

"To a bundle of joy," Zandra repeated softly,
and the three of them touched glasses and sipped.

"Delicious," Karl-Heinz said.

"Yes," Dina said. She put her glass on the
coffee table. "Now for some news. I hope you won't mind my
meddling, but during the past two weeks I took it upon myself to do
a little research."

"Research?" said Zandra blankly. "Darling,
whatever for?"

"Why, for your little bundle of joy, of
course! What else?" Dina smiled like a benevolent fairy godmother.
"And there's good news and there's good news! I myself couldn't
believe the leaps and bounds obstetrics has made during the past
few years. I don't think you will, either."

Zandra had to smile. Good old Dina, she
thought. Trust her to have gone sniffing around the halls of
science and medicine.

She said, "Well? We're all ears. Aren't we,
Heinzie, darling?"

Dina picked up her glass and took a tiny sip
and set it back down.

"It used to be," she said, "that a child's
sex was a toss-up. Sort of like pot luck."

"Still is, I should imagine," said
Zandra.

"Ah." A faint smile hovered on Dina's lips.
"You'd be surprised, sweetie. Dr. Lawrence Rosenbaum has proved
otherwise."

Karl-Heinz frowned. "Rosenbaum ... Rosenbaum
..." he murmured, crossing his legs and pinching the perfect crease
of his trousers. Then he shook his head. "Never heard of the
man."

"That's not surprising," Dina said, "because
before this, neither had I."

"Darling, you know how I absolutely despise
mysteries," Zandra said. "So who is he?"

"Only this city's most famous
obstetrician/gynecologist. That's right, sweetie. In fact, he's
often referred to as the top OB/GYN expert in the world."

Dina folded her hands in her lap. "Lawrence
Rosenbaum and I," she said, "had a nice long talk. And guess
what?"

Zandra and Karl-Heinz looked at her
expectantly.

"Apparently, a new procedure was developed a
few years ago which can help influence the sex of a child. That's
right!"

Dina sat forward on the sofa. She was seized
with a barely contained excitement, and her pale eyes shone like
faceted aquamarines.

"Heinzie! Zandra! Sweeties! Did you hear me?
He can help you produce a male ... heir!"

"I wonder how he does that?" Zandra mused
thoughtfully. "Last I heard, the sex of a child is determined by
nature."

"It seems that nature can be helped along. I
forget the exact name of the procedure—" Dina waved a slender hand
airily. "—you know I have absolutely no head for medical
terminology, sweetie, but I did gather it's done through artificial
insemination."

Karl-Heinz shook his head. "I'm not sure I
like the idea of Zandra submitting herself to—"

"Darling, it isn't the method of insemination
that's important, really it's not!" Zandra told him softly.

"But—"

"We need a male child, darling, and I'm
willing to undergo anything within reason so long as there's a
chance it'll help. I can live with that...if you can."

Karl-Heinz sighed and rubbed his
forehead.

Dina pressed onward. "The process is really
very simple. What they do is ... let me see ... first they take
some sperm—in this case yours, Heinzie—and then they spin it or
shake it in a laboratory, which causes the female sperm to drop,
and the male sperm to come to the top—"

"Did you say ... shake it?" Zandra giggled.
"Like a martini?"

"Spinning the sperm," Karl-Heinz uttered in
amused incredulity. "And that is supposed to guarantee us a male
child?"

"No," Dina conceded. "It doesn't guarantee
anything. But it has been known to be effective. If you're
interested, Dr. Rosenbaum can explain it all far better than I
can."

Karl-Heinz exchanged glances with Zandra, who
gave an imperceptible nod.

Dina drank some of her champagne.

He sighed. "It just sounds so ..." He held up
his hands ... "so over the top."

"Sweetie, it is not over the top," Dina
objected. "Lawrence Rosen- baum is a highly respected scientist who
happens to be practicing medicine." She paused and stared at him.
"Besides, do you have a better idea?"

He shook his head.

"Look at it this way," Dina's voice gentled.
"What have you got to lose?"

Karl-Heinz did not reply, but Zandra thought:
Only about twelve billion dollars.

She sat up straight and tall, and as she
raised her chin she was every inch the princess.

"Darling," she told Dina, "call Dr.
Rosenbaum. Ask how soon he can see us."

"Zandra!" Karl-Heinz protested. "Draconian
measures like this weren't—"

Part of the bargain, he didn't have to
say.

Zandra smiled at him. "You're sweet, but my
mind's made up, Heinzie."

"But why not let nature take its course? See
what happens?"

"Because, darling, nature may take
months—years even!—just to fertilize me. I know your father's
condition is currently stable, but he is still in a coma. You heard
his doctors. It's only a matter of time."

"Yes, but—"

"And besides," she said, "how can I let
Sofia's munchkin inherit? Any woman who dresses in mourning for my
wedding's certainly not going to get the better of me!"

Zandra looked at Dina.

"Make the call, darling," she said huskily,
taking Karl-Heinz's hand. "Make it now."