Judith wondered if Connie was still in love with Vittorio. She sat down on the stool and toweled herself slowly as the realization hit her. Three years had passed without a breath of romance in her life. Three years ago she had broken off the thing with Chuck.
They had met during the summer at Quogue. Chuck was a golf pro, twenty-eight, blond. It had started when she took some lessons on her short irons. He put his arms around her waist to keep her from pivoting. “It’s all in the hands with a wedge, Mrs.
Austin.” Their eyes met, and that’s how it began. During the summer, Gregory came out for long weekends and she had planned on getting Chuck transferred to the club at Palm Beach. Everything was divine until he made that remark: “Judith, wouldn’t I be great doing the golf commentary on TV, like Jimmy Demaret or Cary Middlecoff?” It had disturbed her, but she had forced herself to dismiss it.
He had taken the job in Palm Beach. She arrived on January second, and for three weeks it had been wonderful. Gregory was still in New York, and each night Chuck crept into her mansion through the side entrance. Then he mentioned the television idea again. She had been intentionally vague. He shrugged. “Well then, maybe I’ll try for tournament golf and go out on tour.”
On tour? That offered all kinds of interesting possibilities. She might pop off and join him occasionally. He described the tournaments he wanted to enter—of course he’d have to practice every day for about a month or he’d never make the cut: “I’d need about ten or fifteen thousand,” he said.
She stared at him. “Ten or fifteen thousand what?”
“Dollars. It costs money to hit the tournament trail. If I won any big purse I’d pay you back.”
That had been the end of Chuck. She had refused to take his calls after that night.
It was the first time a man had ever gone after her with any ulterior motive. That had been three years ago—three years with nothing exciting in her life. Nothing but Gregory. She really loved Gregory, but she wasn’t
in
love with him. And being in love was the only thing that made life worth living. She would never have married Gregory if it hadn’t been for Connie.
The beautiful Logan twins: Judith and Consuelo. Daughters of Elizabeth and Cornelius Logan. A beautiful couple, beautiful twin daughters, a magnificent heritage. They had everything—except money. She would never forget their “poverty.” Somehow the Logans always managed to live in the “right” apartment; she and Connie went to the “right” schools, and although it was whispered that Cornelius Logan had lost everything in the crash, everyone knew that Grandmother Logan still had enormous wealth. Grandmother Logan had paid for the big coming-out ball.
She had also paid for the girls’ first trip to Europe on their twenty-first birthday. Connie had met Vittorio. Judith had come back empty-handed.
Judith was twenty-six when she met Gregory Austin. She had seen his picture in the newspapers and knew he dated movie actresses, society women and debutantes. He was thirty-six, unmarried, and owned a radio network. He bragged about his lack of formal education: “I never finished high school, but I can read the stock-market pages better than Bernard Baruch.” His first job had been a runner on Wall Street. When the market crashed, he made his first million selling short. With the profits he bought a small radio station in upstate New York, continued to buy stock when it hit the all-time low, sold when it climbed, and with each big financial gain purchased a new radio station. When he was thirty he formed the IBC network. His cocky manner and flamboyant behavior made him a colorful personality. His quotes made good newspaper copy. He enjoyed women, but marriage was the last thing on his mind, until he met Judith Logan. Perhaps it was her lack of interest that challenged him. Gregory always sought the unattainable.
Judith went out with him a few times because of his persistence and was amazed to find herself suddenly in the “news.” She was even more amazed when her closest friends wanted to throw small dinner parties for “that fascinating red-headed spitfire.” And when Consuelo wrote and said she had met him in London and found him sexy and exciting, Judith suddenly looked at Gregory Austin in a new light. She also realized that he
was
offering her a kingdom—there was no coat of arms, but in some circles the IBC crest was even more impressive. He opened the door to a world of opulent spending. Vittorio had money, but Connie’s jewelry was “family” jewelry that had to be passed on to her children and their children. Gregory presented Judith with a twenty-five-carat diamond engagement ring, a diamond necklace as a wedding present, and fifty thousand dollars to open her checking account. The wedding itself made both the society pages and theatrical columns.
Gregory was stunned to find he had married a virgin. He bought her the Palm Beach estate to celebrate their first year of
marriage. He presented her with a diamond bracelet at the end of the second year. By the end of the third year, there was nothing else he could give her. And by then, the only thing she really wanted was romance. Sex with Gregory had been a complete disappointment. She had no basis for comparison, yet somehow she sensed she would discover romance when the proper moment presented itself. It happened when she was thirty-two. She decided to go to Paris to visit Connie. The war was over, everyone was in a festive mood, and Judith was anxious to show off her jewels and furs to Connie. Gregory couldn’t get away but he sent her off with his best wishes and an enormous letter of credit. She met the opera star on the boat trip over. She skipped Paris and they stayed in London together. She never saw Connie and it never occurred to Gregory to ask why her letters bore English postage stamps.
After that it had been easy. There had been the Italian movie star, then for two years there had been the English playwright, then the French diplomat… . Dear Connie had proved valuable in the long run—one could always dash to Europe to visit one’s sister: twins were supposed to be close. Of course Connie had been extracting her pound of flesh lately—all these visits to the States… . But in the last three years she had not gone to “visit Connie” at all. She sat and thought about it now—three years of
nothing
.
She finished her makeup and stood up and surveyed her naked body. In the beginning she had been unhappy because she hadn’t been able to get pregnant. She had tried desperately until she was thirty, even considered adopting a baby, but Gregory was forty and didn’t really care. “The network is our baby,” he would say. And a child was a responsibility… . Now, as she stared at her flat stomach, she was suddenly glad there were no stretch marks. But her breasts
were
sagging and her thighs were getting loose. She held her arms over head. There, that looked fine—and in bed when she lay down they went into place. But her stomach was soft, even though it was flat… .
She went to her closet and reached for the purple velvet dress, then with a sudden change of mind decided on the red lamé hostess gown. And she’d wear the gold-and-ruby necklace. For the
first time in ages, she felt a sense of anticipation in choosing a dress. An inner excitement had been building subconsciously for three days, ever since Robin Stone’s note of acceptance arrived.
Until this moment Judith had refused to acknowledge it even to herself: she was dressing for Robin Stone. Suddenly she realized that she had wanted him since she first set eyes on him. Yes, she wanted Robin Stone! This would be her last and most exciting romance. But she knew she would have to make the first move, let him know in a terribly subtle way that she was interested. A man like Robin would take it from there. It was an ideal situation. It offered unlimited possibilities. He traveled so much. She could easily meet him abroad.
At four thirty she went downstairs to check the bar and hors d’oeuvres. At four forty-five Gregory appeared in his smoking jacket. He looked tired—well, Palm Beach would straighten him out. At five o’clock the first guests arrived. Naturally it was the senator and his wife. Why did the dull ones always arrive first? You were trapped talking to them until other guests arrived. But when the butler ushered the middle-aged couple into the living room, Judith’s smile was brilliant.
“Hello, Senator. No, my dear, you are
not
early. You are just divinely punctual and I’m so glad. It will give us time for some chitchat.”
Danton Miller arrived ten minutes later. He was alone. For once, Judith was glad to see him. It gave her an excuse to escape from the senator. Soon the door chimes grew constant. Within twenty minutes the crowd filled the living room and began to spill into the library and dining room. The party was on.
Robin Stone arrived at six. She floated across the room and held out her hands.
“You kept your promise.” Her smile was radiant and she accepted the introduction to Maggie as if she had never seen her before. Then she eased away to greet new guests. That damn girl! She was so tall and beautiful! Judith held herself erect. She had felt small and dumpy beside Maggie Stewart. She moved effortlessly through the room greeting people, talking with them… . And through it all she kept one eye on Robin Stone and Maggie Stewart. Oh Lord, there was Christie Lane with his dreadful
wife. Gregory had insisted she invite them. The girl—Ethel, yes, that was her name—was talking to Maggie Stewart. Chris was standing like a wooden Indian. Oh marvelous—Robin had moved off to talk to the senator.
This was her chance. She eased her way to his side. Then with casual deliberation, she took his arm and said, “This is your first time here. Would you like the tour?”
“Tour?”
“Yes.” She led him from the room to the outer hall. “Most guests like to see houses. And they rarely get beyond the living room, library and dining room.” She stopped at a heavy oak door. “This is off limits to guests but I’d like you to see it. It’s Gregory’s den, his pride and joy.”
“The house is deceptive,” Robin said. “It’s quite large, isn’t it?”
Her laugh was easy and light. “Don’t you know? It’s really two brownstones—we broke the entire wall that separated the houses and wound up with fifteen large rooms instead of thirty small ones.”
Robin looked around the den with obvious approval. “Good room for a man.”
Her face was wistful. “Unfortunately he spends too much time here.”
He nodded. “I imagine he thinks his problems out.”
“Do you hole away like that too?”
He smiled. “My problems are on a smaller scale. I have just one department to worry about. Gregory has the entire network.”
She threw her hands up in mock despair. “Is business the only kind of problems men have? I envy you.”
His grin was noncommittal.
“A woman’s problems can’t be obliterated by a drink and an hour of deep thought in a den,” she said.
“Maybe she hasn’t tried,” Robin answered.
“How do you erase loneliness, Robin?”
He looked at her curiously. For one second their eyes met. Her stare was challenging, with a hint of intimacy. Her voice was low when she spoke. “Robin, I love Gregory. In the beginning of our marriage we had something very wonderful. But now he’s
married to IBC. He’s much older than I … the excitement of the network is enough for him. He brings his problems home-sometimes I feel I don’t exist for him. I see him in crowds, at parties, at dinners. I know he loves me, but I’m just part of his empire. I feel so lonely and isolated. I’m not the type of woman who plays cards or enjoys meeting other women for lunch.”
“Everyone has their own kind of loneliness,” Robin said.
“But why should they? Life is so short. We’re young for such a short time. I always believe if you don’t hurt anyone, that’s all that counts.” She shrugged helplessly. “Gregory played the market when he was young, and he once said, ‘It’s the biggest and best crap game in the world,’ but he doesn’t play the market anymore—now the ‘numbers,’ as he puts it, are his big excitement. But a woman
can’t
exist that way. She needs affection.” She looked down at her hands and twisted the large ring. “I’ve found it perhaps once or twice.” She looked at him. “It never took anything away from Gregory. It never touched my love for him. It was a different kind of love. I just gave someone something that Gregory didn’t have the time or sensitivity to accept.” Then in a small voice she said, “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I hardly know you.” Her smile was suddenly shy. “But friendship is not just a matter of time, it’s a matter of understanding.”
He took her by the shoulders and grinned. “Judith, you are a lovely woman, but I’d advise you to be careful whom you open up to like this.”
Her eyes looked up to him appealingly. “I don’t open up like this. I never have before—I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Robin.”
He turned her around and steered her toward the door. “Too much eggnog,” he said with a smile. “Now, let’s get back to your guests. That’s one way of not being lonely.”
Her stare was direct. “Is that the only solution?”
He took her arm and led her back to the living room. “I’m with a young lady who might get very lonely in this crowd. Happy New Year, Judith. And stay away from the eggnog.” He left her and went directly to Maggie Stewart.
Judith was in a state of shock, but she moved about greeting people, her smile intact.
Maggie’s smile also remained intact. She had seen Robin leave the room with Judith Austin and was aware they had stayed away some time. Judith Austin was a very beautiful woman. But the sight of the tall handsome man crossing the room and coming to her side dispelled her uneasiness immediately.