This was flaunting on a scale that was unbelievable. The women were dressed in daring gowns, and the display of jewelry was blinding. Tony stood to one side watching the guests gorging themselves, calling out noisily to old friends. He felt as though he were attending some mindless, decadent rite. Every time he turned around, Tony found himself confronted with a waiter carrying a tray containing large crocks of beluga caviar or pâté or champagne. It seemed to Tony that there were almost as many servants as guests. He listened to conversations around him.
“He came out here from New York to sell me a bill of goods, and I said, ‘You’re wastin’ your time, mister. No good oil deal gets east of Houston…’”
“You gotta watch out for the smooth talkers. They’re all hat and no cattle…”
Lucy appeared at Tony’s side. “You’re not eating.” She was watching him intently. “Is anything wrong, Tony?”
“No, everything’s fine. It’s quite a party.”
She grinned. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, pardner. Wait until you see the fireworks display.”
“The fireworks display?”
“Uh-huh.” She touched Tony’s arm. “Sorry about the mob scene. It’s not always like this. Daddy wanted to impress your mother.” She smiled. “Tomorrow they’ll all be gone.”
So will I, Tony thought grimly. It had been a mistake for him to come here. If his mother wanted the Wyatt Oil & Tool Company so badly, she would have to figure out some other way to get it. His eyes searched the crowd for his mother, and he saw her in the middle of an admiring group. She was beautiful. She was almost sixty years old, but she looked ten years younger. Her face was unlined, and her body was firm and trim, thanks to exercise and daily massage. She was as disciplined with herself as with everyone around her, and in a perverse way, Tony admired her. To a casual onlooker, Kate Blackwell seemed to be having a marvelous time. She was chatting with the guests, beaming, laughing. She’s loathing every moment of this, Tony thought. There isn’t anything she won’t suffer to get what she wants. He thought of Marianne and of how much she would have hated this kind of senseless orgy. The thought of her was a sudden ache in him.
I’m marrying a doctor. I’ve known him all my life.
Half an hour later when Lucy came looking for Tony, he was on his way back to New York.
He called Marianne from a telephone booth at the airport. “I want to see you.”
There was no hesitation. “Yes.”
Tony had not been able to get Marianne Hoffman out of his thoughts. He had been alone for a long time, but he had not felt lonely. Being away from Marianne was a loneliness, a feeling that a part of him was missing. Being with her was a warmth, a celebration of life, a chasing away of the ugly dark shadows that had been haunting him. He had the terrifying feeling that if he let Marianne go, he would be lost. He needed her as he had never needed anyone in his life.
Marianne met him at his apartment, and as she walked in the door, there was a hunger in Tony that he had thought forever dead. And looking at her, he knew the hunger was hers, too, and there were no words for the miracle of it.
She went into his arms, and their emotion was an irresistible riptide that caught them both up and swept them away in a glorious explosion, an eruption, and a contentment beyond words. They were floating together in a velvety softness that knew no time or place, lost in the wondrous glory and magic of each other. Later they lay spent, holding each other, her hair soft against his face.
“I’m going to marry you, Marianne.”
She took his face in her hands and looked searchingly into his eyes. “Are you sure, Tony?” Her voice was gentle. “There’s a problem, darling.”
“Your engagement?”
“No. I’ll break it off. I’m concerned about your mother.”
“She has nothing to do with—”
“No. Let me finish, Tony. She’s planning for you to marry Lucy Wyatt.”