Beautiful Illusions (5 page)

I also noticed a life-size stuffed Donald Duc
k in the corner. I looked at Ryan, thinking that he was going to explain the enormous bird. He didn’t say anything about it, though.

While seeing the office made me start to relax, seeing the rest of the house made me intimidated once more. The house had everything – a wine cellar, a game room, a home theatre, a fully-stocked wet bar, and fireplaces in every bedroom. The master suite was magnificent, and the master bathroom was….there were no words. Sunken marble tub which could comfortably seat several people. Br
ass fixtures, marble counters. Even the toilet looked expensive.

I was in awe, to say the least.
This home must be worth at least a million dollars.
Plus, the home backed up onto a golf course.

I drew an enormous breath, trying to banish the thought that I would never fit in here. Ever.

There was one room with a closed door. Ryan didn’t open the door to this room. I thought it was odd, as he happily showed me every other room.

I let it go.

After the tour, we went back downstairs and laid by the fireplace in the living room. He played with my hair and stroked my cheek. Both us drank the wine from his winery, finishing off one bottle and opening up another. Music played in the background, an Ipod mix of Frank Sinatra, The Silver Sun Pickups, Gotye, Muse, Johnny Mathis, The Police, Blue October, and Adele, with a little Def Leppard and REO Speedwagon mixed in for good measure. Very eclectic tastes, much like myself.

He was staring at me, not really saying anything, just gently playing with my hair
, lying next to me on the rug. He kissed my forehead lightly.

“Um, do you want to spend the night here in the guest bedroom? I know you've been drinking.”

I looked at him quizzically. I was anticipating a full-on seduction, but he had barely touched me.

“Sure.”

He led me up to one of the guest bedrooms. It was some guest bedroom. Like the kitchen, my entire apartment could fit into this bedroom, and there was a fireplace in the corner. An enormous sleigh bed was in another corner of the room, and the carpeting in this room was a muted blue. The night stand was a cherry wood, like most of the house, and the room had an enormous walk-in closet. Above the bed was a magnificent piece of artwork, another original, although the artist was not familiar. He saw me looking at the piece of art. “I got that at a local art gallery,” he explained, “on a First Friday.”

“First Friday” referred
to the first Friday of every month, when the art district’s galleries stayed open late to the public, and thousands of people jam the streets, walking from one gallery to another. I sometimes went to these affairs, not necessarily to buy art - I couldn’t afford any of it - but to be amongst the crowds of people, and to take in the festive atmosphere. Plus, I generally like to admire art.

He tucked me into bed, kissing me on my forehead. “Get some sleep.”

“I had fun this evening. Thanks for everything.”

At that, he turned out the light, leaving me there in the dark. Sleeping beneath an unknown artist
.

I woke up at 6 AM. I couldn’t sleep. I actually found myself waking up earlier, as well, at 3 in the morning, wondering where the hell I was. Literally. This often happened to me even when I was in my own bed. I’d wake up and panic a little, thinking I was in some dark alley or dungeon, until my conscious mind caught up and realized that I was in my own bed. That was what happened last night, only it was worse because it took me several minutes to understand that I was safe.

Or was I?

I was feeling nosy. I crept to the room that Ryan didn’t show me. I figured he was keeping his secret child porn stash or S&M gear in there.
He doesn’t want me to know that he is a freak just yet.
I had to find out before I got in any further with this guy. Weird sexual practices are not my thing, never have been, and never will be. I don’t care how nice, hot and rich he is. If I find whips and chains in there, I’m outta here. No questions asked.

I opened the door. What was in there stunned me. It was not an S&M room at all. Far from it. It was a baby’s room. The walls were pink and the room was done in Hello Kitty. There was a crib by the window with a little mobi
le above it with tiny giraffes, elephants, hippos and zebras. There were also stuffed animals everywhere, and a rocking chair in the corner. I opened the closet door, and there were cute little dresses and shirts hanging up there with care, and little tiny shoes lined up on a shelf. On the dresser was a picture – of Ryan, a stunningly beautiful blonde woman, and a beautiful little girl.

Huh. He never told me he has a child.
Well, that wasn’t a big deal. I loved children, although I didn’t really want one of my own.
He’ll tell me eventually about his kid. But why did he keep this room secret?
I answered my own question – he probably just forgot to open the door. That’s all. He wouldn’t want to hide the fact that he had a child – there wasn’t a reason for that.

I tiptoed out of that room, and prepared to come down the stairs.

From down below, I could Ryan talking on his cell phone, so I decided not to bother him just yet, as I wanted his full attention.

But what I heard stopped me in my tracks.

“Listen, Alexis, I am tired of your petty bullshit. I bought you that goddamned Porsche you demanded, I really don’t know what else you want except maybe your own airplane.” Ryan was talking in a loud whisper, not necessarily shouting, but definitely not trying to be completely quiet. He was pacing the floor, and it appeared that he was talking to himself, like a schizophrenic. Of course, he had in a Bluetooth, but, still, it looked odd – like the homeless people you see in the library who are talking to somebody who wasn’t there.

There was a long pause. Ryan’s pacing was frenetic, and he was pulling on his hair. Not running his fingers through it, but pulling it with both hands. Then - “Yes, I know I have my own airplane, but you don’t understand, I earned that.”

Geezus, his own plane? Really?
I was intrigued, utterly intimidated, and scared to death at seeing him this way, all at the same time.

A shorter pause, as I saw Ryan pick up a stress ball, and squeeze it, no longer pulling on his hair. Then – “Oh, yes, I did
. Yes, I did. Trust me, after what that bastard did to me, I earned that and more. Besides, you forget that I do work for a living.”

What bastard? Who did what to him? Yeah, he works for a living, but buying a plane on a bank president’s salary seems a stretch. For that matter, buying a de Kooning on a bank president’s salary is also a stretch.
Oh, how I wanted to retreat back into the bedroom and not listen to this, but I stayed, my feet rooted to the ground.

Another long pause, about five minutes. Now he was again pacing the floor, having thrown the stress ball against the wall. He looked like his hand was going to be going through the wall next. Then -
“What kind of fuckery is that? How dare you bring that up? We’re divorced, I gave you all that I’m going to give you, and blackmail will get you exactly nowhere.”

Oh, lord – blackmail?
My mind was racing now. Ting, ting, ting, just like a computer, my thoughts started racing about what was up with all this. I felt like crying – just when I was starting to let down my guard….

Now Maximus and Brutus were getting into the act, coming up to him to try to comfort him. He was now sitting on the couch, and they tried to lick his face. He hastily pushed them both away, and started towards the door to put them out. Then he picked up the stress ball again, and paced some more. Then - “Go right ahead. Go to the press. It isn’t my ass that’s on the line, it’s his.”

Jesus – the press. Must be something bad.
The computer started whirring again. Ting, ting, ting.

A lo
ng pause, then - “Goddamn it, I’m not going to keep buying your goddamned silence. This has to end, Alexis, one way or another. So, go ahead with your little plan. You’ve got no proof anyhow. Remember that there is a gag order in our divorce decree, so you can’t use those depositions against me.”

A silence of about one minute, as Ryan was now at the Benton painting, putting his left hand on it protectively, as he said “Goddamn it, I told that you can never have the Benton, so why do you keep asking me abou
t that? How many times-“

More pacing, then
“I know that the de Kooning is much more valuable, but you can’t have that one either, and that’s that.”

Still pacing, and pulling on his hair, then “No, the Cezanne is off-limits too, but, Holy Christ, you know that. That’s been in my family for years, and you know why I have it now. You know why, so quit asking me about it.”

Cezanne? What the-

More pacing, and he opened the door to go outside. I immediately ran back into the room, and opened the window so I could hear. Now he was pacing around outside. Then “You’ll get nothing more. You’ll never be satisfied. I could buy you a fucking Greek Island, and you’ll come back for more and more.”

He made his way back into the house, and I rushed to where I was before, up above. Then - “I won’t give into blackmail.”

Then
- “Little shit.” Although I realized that he was no longer holding the phone when he said this last bit.

I tiptoed back into the guest bedroom, afraid of him knowing that I heard any of that, much les
s all of that.
Why do you have to be so nosy?
I had to admit that I also was afraid of going downstairs. He couldn’t be in a good mood after all of that. I laid back in the bed, half expecting him to storm in here, ripping the covers off of me and kicking my ass out. Or, worse, ask me why I was still there. Well, maybe that wasn’t worse. Equally bad.

Tentatively, I opened the door and looked down at
Ryan in the living room again. He was pacing the floor, muttering to himself. I could make out various words. “She can’t do this.” And “She won’t do this.” Then he was on the phone again. “Sheldon, it’s me.….She’s threatening to go to the press again…Tell me again about the terms of the gag order…That’s what I thought. She can use what she knows, she just can’t use the legal proceedings against me. But she can use what she found out through me during our marriage…I know, I know, she wouldn’t have agreed to our divorce terms otherwise, but, goddamn it, I wish we had a more airtight gag order on her…I know, I didn’t think she’d be so vindictive either…God, you think you know somebody….Well, the good news is, without those depositions, she has no proof of anything. I’ll just deny it all…Yes, I know it’s his ass, not mine…I don’t know why I care how much trouble he gets into… He just scares me still. Plus, if this gets out, it’ll be absolutely humiliating for me…No, it’s not that…Yes, well, thanks, Sheldon, for answering the phone on an early Sunday morning…Good to talk to you too…Yes, I didn’t forget about racquetball. On my schedule…Bye.”

Sheldon. Sounds like a lawyer’s name.

Ryan was on the phone once more. “Hi, I need to make an appointment…Dr. Halder…Today, if possible…10 A.M. is fine.”

After this last conversation, he dragged himself to his couch, slumped his shoulders, and put his head in his hands. I quietly went back into my room and shut the door, then cracked it open a little, to hear if he were coming up to see me.

To my surprise, he got on the phone with somebody else. “Nick,” he said. “I really need to see you.” At this point, Ryan was sitting on the couch, the dogs sitting next to him. He was petting them calmly while he spoke.

Pause
. “Well, I’m kinda spiraling right now.” At that, he pulled on Maximus’ ear. The dog yanked his head away. “I’ll tell you later. I just really, uh, really need you to see you right now…Tonight would be great. Maybe we could get a drink?”

My hear
t plummeted to my shoes. Nick? Who was Nick? Nick – girl, boy? Nicolette, Nicole, Nikki?
Oh, lord, I knew it! Dude’s got a girlfriend.
I bit my nails, not worried about the manicure.
Don’t jump to conclusions. It might be his brother. Or sister.

After careful consideration, I decided to play it off like I had never heard that conversation. Any of the conversation. Although warning bells were going off in my head, I didn’t want to confront the matter. I was kinda nuts about this guy, so sweeping danger signs under the rug seemed the thing to do.

Suddenly, he was calling for me. “Iris?” I could hear him coming up the stairs. My breathing started coming rapidly, more and more so as he got closer to the door. I ran back into the bed and pulled the cover over my head, then thought better of it. That would be a dead giveaway that I heard all of that.

Instead, I pretended to sleep.

He quietly opened the door. Then he sighed, and closed the door behind him. He went back down the stairs. My breath caught.
I hope that worked. God, I hoped that worked. I hope he really thought I slept through all of that.
Then I thought –
how long should I wait to come down the stairs?

I decided to wait a half hour more. It was now 7:30. To my knowledge, he didn’t have to be anywhere until his 10 AM appointment, so hopefully I wasn’t bothering him too much.