Champagne Rules (31 page)

“It’s not that.”

Ann leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Did something go wrong? Did he hurt you?”

“No, not the way you mean. But we had a . . . disagreement.”

“How could you get in a fight after that scandalous sex in the park?” Jenny demanded.

“Disagreement, not fight. And it was Saturday night.”

“A disagreement on Saturday, makeup sex on Sunday, what’s so bad about that?” Jen asked.

“The disagreement’s still bothering you, though?” Rina said.

“What was it about?”

Suzanne sighed. “Work. Its place in a person’s life. He’s bought into that whole American guy dream, with a doublewhammy because he was a black immigrant kid. He wants power and money and status. Everything else comes second. I said there are more important things, told him how I value a balanced life and a man who puts family ahead of work.”

Jenny screwed up her face. “Ouch. Head on, major clash in values.”

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not like we’re getting serious about each other.”

“Except, you’re falling for him,” Ann said. Yeah. She
had
been thinking about getting serious. That’s why her heart felt like a lump of lead weighing down her chest so she couldn’t draw a clean breath of air. “Okay, maybe I was starting to,” she said softly.

“Oh Suzie,” Rina said sympathetically.

Suzanne shrugged, not wanting a pity party. “Well, it doesn’t matter, because he’s clearly not the man for me. Now we’re back to our Champagne Rules. Just sex, no heavy conversation. Our little spat proved we need those Rules.”

They broke off as the waitress delivered huge plates of aromatic food, spooned parmesan on top and wielded the pepper grinder.

After they’d gone through the ritual of sampling each other’s dinners, Jenny said, “So you’re back where you started? Dynamite sex, nothing mundane, no strings attached? That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“No, of course not. But . . .”

“But?” Ann echoed.

“The sex was good on Sunday,” Suzanne said slowly.

“Intense, with a risky edge. He’s gorgeous, a fantastic lover. He makes me feel like the sexiest, most attractive woman alive. What more could I possibly want?” It was the question she’d been asking herself for the last day and a half.

“All of that in a man you could marry,” Ann replied promptly. And there was the answer Suzanne had been avoiding.

“Yeah, okay, it’s what every girl wants. But honestly, I don’t think I’m going find hot sex plus a stable family guy all in one package.”

“Why not?” Rina asked. “Just because a guy’s responsible and values his family, that doesn’t mean he can’t be sexy too. Does it?”

Suzanne put down her fork. “I don’t know. I’d never thought about a sizzling sex life as being part of marriage.”

“As Rina once pointed out,” Jenny said, “Ward Cleaver was awfully good to the Beaver.”

Suzanne swatted her. “Stop it. I’m being serious.”

“So’m I,” Jenny said. “Gimme a break, it was the fifties. Of course you didn’t actually see Ward and June having sex, but I bet they did, and it was spectacular.”

Jen actually had a point. A point that made Suzanne think about what her sister had said about her own marriage and—

major yikes!—their parents’. It seemed that raunchy sex really could play a major role in a long-term marriage.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I’ll give you that much. But there’s a difference between lust and love, right? If you get married because you’re in lust, that intense physicality will die down and you’ll be left with nothing. So, sure, you need sexual compatibility, but that’s just a start.”

Yes, that sounded right. More confident now, she went on.

“I want to marry a man who shares my values, a man I like and respect, a responsible man I can trust, who’ll be my life partner. A man I can have children with, without fear he’ll abandon us. Not by leaving, or cheating, or even working all the time.”

Her three friends exchanged glances. Suzanne gave an embarrassed laugh. “Okay, you’ve heard all that before.” She forked up a bite of lasagna.

“Okay,” Ann said, “it’s nuts to marry based just on lust. But it’s possible to have love and respect as well as ongoing sexual attraction. They’re not mutually incompatible.”

“My sister’s got that,” Suzanne said. She wasn’t about to mention her parents’ sex life.

“That’s so romantic,” Rina sighed.

“And damn lucky,” Jenny put in.

“It’s never just luck,” Ann said. “You’ll never find someone who’s perfectly compatible. A couple always has to work on a relationship.”

“I guess,” Suzanne said.

“So, let’s look at Jaxon,” Jenny said. “You don’t like and respect him?”

Suzanne chewed another mouthful of lasagna—it really was delicious—and thought about the question. “In some ways. I can understand where he’s coming from. An immigrant kid, raised by a single mom, living in poverty. He bought into the American dream and he’s making it come true. It’s a different dream than mine, though.”

“You value your work too,” Rina pointed out.

“And Jaxon does value family.” Suzanne thought of what he’d said about his mom. And his ex. “And friends. But I put those things first, and he puts his career first.”

“I’m not taking his side,” Ann said, “but it does take an awful lot of hard work, and time, to get ahead in law. It’s harder for a woman than a man, and I’m guessing it’s harder still for a person of color.”

“Okay,” Suzanne said, “I can respect his dream. But I still want—deserve—a man who thinks it’s more important to spend time with me and our children than to climb the career ladder.”

“I agree,” Rina said. “Kids come first. Even if both parents work, their jobs shouldn’t be more important than their children.”

“Nothing should,” Suzanne said vehemently, thinking of her old friend Liz.

The other three exchanged glances, then Rina said softly,

“Now would be a good time to tell us. If you can.”

“Tell you?”

“Look, we all agree your values are good ones, but the reality is a lot of marriages are unhappy, a lot end in divorce, a lot of kids are neglected by their parents. We all think it’s sad. We all hope for better.”

She glanced toward Jen and Ann, who both nodded.

“But,” Rina went on, “it goes further for you, Suze. This is emotional, personal. And yet your own parents seem pretty much perfect.”

Personal. Yes, it was. Oh damn, it was silly not to tell her best friends. “It’s not a deep dark secret, it’s just hard for me to talk about.”

Three comforting hands reached out to pat her shoulder, and touch her hand.

Slowly, she said, “When I was a kid, I had a best friend named Liz. We did everything together, shared our secrets. Her father was a rising star in a big company. Really into his career.”

Just like Jaxon.

“Liz’s mom didn’t have a job,” she went on. “She built her life around him, played the good corporate wife. Entertained his clients or co-workers on a moment’s notice. Didn’t complain when he worked late. Not that he appreciated any of this. He was cheating, with his executive assistant.”

“His wife find out?” Ann said.

“Yeah, and when she confronted him, the shit blamed her. He said she’d let herself go, he couldn’t talk to her, she was an uneducated dummy.”

“What a winner,” Ann said scathingly.

“Well, she sounds like a doormat,” Jenny said. “Didn’t the woman have a spine?”

Suzanne sighed. “No. To be fair, I guess she never had much chance to develop one. She dropped out of college to marry him, and had no job skills or self-confidence. She was trying to be a good wife and he screwed her around.”

“And your friend Liz was hurt by all this,” Rina said. Hurt. Oh yeah. “She was like her mom, always trying to please her father.”

“Aagh,” Ann said.

“Yeah. Poor Liz had two bad parental role models. Anyhow, I don’t think her father gave a damn about either her or her mom. He left, and married his assistant. When Liz called, he was always too busy to see her. And her mom was shattered. She went on meds, drifted into her own miserable world, pretty much stopped coping.”

“They both abandoned Liz,” Rina said sadly. “That’s so unfair. Sure, her mom must have been depressed, angry, scared, but so was Liz. Her mom was an adult and Liz was just . . . how old?”

“Fourteen.”

“How did Liz handle it?” Ann asked softly. Suzanne closed her eyes, fighting back tears. “She blamed herself. Everything was her fault because she wasn’t a perfect daughter.”

“Kids do that. Feel responsible,” Rina said. “Especially if their parents don’t tell them otherwise. I see it all the time with my music students.”

Suzanne nodded. “I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. She studied all the time, trying to make straight A’s. She kept saying she wasn’t thin enough, wasn’t pretty enough. She got skinnier and skinnier. Her mom wasn’t cooking proper meals. We invited Liz to our house, but she picked at her food. Once I caught her in the bathroom after dinner, throwing up. She said she had the flu.”

“Anorexia?” Ann asked quietly.

Suzanne nodded. “Mom figured it out. She called Liz’s mother and said her daughter needed help. Liz’s mom snapped at her and said they were both going through a rough time, they’d work it out. My mom didn’t give up. She spoke to a counselor at school and the counselor said she’d follow up.”

“Did it help?” Rina asked.

How could she tell the rest? Suzanne swallowed hard. Maybe her friends sensed there was an unhappy ending because none of them said a word. They just squeezed her arm, gripped her hands.

She sucked in a breath and said it quickly, all in one rush. “She took a bunch of her mother’s pills. I don’t know if it was an accident or if she meant to, but by the time her mother found her, it was too late.”

Rina gave a little gasp, but the others were silent, their shocked faces speaking for them.

Suzanne’s eyes burned and she swiped a hand under them, catching the tears. “We all blamed ourselves. Me, my parents, the school counselor. I guess Liz’s mother did too. Maybe even her dad, finally. He looked pretty shattered at the funeral. More than her mom, who was drugged to the gills.”

Suzanne pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. “I get so mad, every time I think about it. I will
not
marry a man like Liz’s father.”

“And you’ll never put your personal issues ahead of your children’s needs,” Ann said. “Like both her parents did.”

They were all quiet for a moment, then Rina picked up her wineglass and held it up in a toast. “To Liz. I hope she’s found peace.”

They all lifted their glasses and clinked them against Rina’s.

“To Liz.”

Although Suzanne’s eyes filled again, she felt better. It was almost like, for a moment, her old friend was part of this warm, loving group.

“It’s a sad story,” Ann said.

“A woman needs to find a guy who values her needs equally with his own,” Rina said. “That’s why you have to talk about these issues ahead of time and make sure you have the same vision of the future.” Her voice began to rise, which was unusual.

“That’s where so many people mess up. They don’t discuss the important things. Then suddenly they’re married and it turns out they can’t both be happy.”

“Rina?” Ann said quietly.

Rina flushed. “Sorry. My parents. Just be glad, Suze, that you and Jaxon found out before it was too late.”

“Glad? Somehow that’s not how I feel. But I know you’re right. It’s good I found out we can’t be a couple. Otherwise, I might have . . .” She shrugged.

Ann nodded. “Let yourself care? Don’t you already? Can you turn that off now? Go back to playing by the Rules, and not get hurt?”

Could she? Or was it time to give him up? “I don’t know.”

“You guys got something planned?” Jenny said. “Like, a phone sex date or something?”

“No. It’s time for a break.” Would she be the first to get in touch? If she didn’t, would she ever see him again?

Feeling depressed, she said, “Speaking of which, you girls want to give me a break and talk about something else? Rina, have you had any luck tracking down Mr. Magic Fingers?”

Rina shook her dark head. “I’ve been debating whether I want to. It seems stupid. We’re probably no more compatible than you and Jaxon.”

“Jesus, you guys,” Jenny said. “Doesn’t anyone have something fun to talk about?” She stared at Ann. Ann shrugged. “Not me. It’s all up to you, Jen. Had any hot sex lately?”

“Hot sex,” Suzanne warned, “is how all this trouble started.” She turned to Jen. “Speaking of which, how’s it going with Pete, the Jacuzzi guy?”

“It’s getting old, real fast. I’m just hanging on to him until I find a replacement.”

“No one else waiting in the wings?” Ann asked.

“Well, there’s my Friday night arranged date. My aunt set me up with this accountant, the grandson of one of the ladies she plays mahjong with. Somehow I doubt he’s going to be a Jaxon.”

Jaxon was out of sorts all day Monday, and had trouble concentrating on his interviews at Family Friend. He’d decided to start with the managers at head office, and to visit them rather than have them come to Jefferson Sparks, figuring they’d be more comfortable and he’d learn more.

Only problem was, he wasn’t so happy with what he learned.

First, there was the way most of them reacted to seeing him: shock.

It couldn’t be his impeccable suit, shirt and tie, his neat haircut. It had to be his skin color. Theirs was, universally, white. So were the pictures of family, friends, colleagues on their desks. His last interview was typical. When he asked Wayne Bakker, the marketing manager, about the complaint that he’d promoted a white man over an African-American woman, the man said, “Some people aren’t prepared to put in the time and work hard.”

Jaxon agreed. However, this particular plaintiff didn’t appear to be one of those people. “Ms. Zachary had been with Family Friend for five years,” he pointed out, “and was the top salesperson for the last two. Mr. Norris had only been with you a year.”

When he got no response, other than a sulky glare, he prompted, “Mr. Norris did have more job-related education, of course.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Superior skills.”