Lara telephoned him again.
“I wondered if we might have lunch, Mr. Martin?”
“Are you having another problem of some kind?”
“No. I just thought it would be nice if we got to know each other better.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Cameron. I never have lunch.”
“What about dinner one evening?”
“I’m a married man, Miss Cameron. I have dinner with my wife and children.”
“I see. If…” The line went dead. What’s the matter with him? Lara wondered. I’m not trying to go to bed with the man. I just want to find some way to thank him. She tried to put him out of her mind.
Paul Martin was disturbed by how pleased he was to hear Lara Cameron’s voice. He told his secretary, “If Miss Cameron calls again, tell her I’m not in.” He did not need temptation, and Lara Cameron was temptation.
Howard Keller was delighted with the way things were progressing.
“I must admit, you had me a little worried there for a while,” he said. “It looked as though we were going right down the tube. You pulled off a miracle.”
It wasn’t my miracle, Lara thought. It was Paul Martin’s. Perhaps he was angry with her because she had not paid him for his services.
On an impulse, Lara sent Paul a check for fifty thousand dollars.
The following day, the check was returned with no note.
Lara telephoned him again. His secretary said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Martin is not available.”
Another snub. It was as though he could not be bothered with her. And if he can’t be bothered with me, Lara wondered, why did he go out of his way to help me?
She dreamed about him that night.
Howard Keller walked into Lara’s office.
“I’ve got two tickets for the new Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, Song & Dance. I have to go to Chicago. Can you use the tickets?”
“No, I…wait.” She was quiet for a moment. “Yes, I think I can use them. Thank you, Howard.”
That afternoon Lara put one of the tickets in an envelope and addressed it to Paul Martin at his office.
When he received the ticket the next day, he looked at it, puzzled. Who would send him a single ticket to the theater? The Cameron girl. I’ll have to put a stop to this, he thought.
“Am I free Friday evening?” he asked his secretary.
“You’re having dinner with your brother-in-law, Mr. Martin.”
“Cancel it.”
Lara sat through the first act, and the seat next to her remained empty. So he’s not coming, Lara thought. Well, to hell with him. I’ve done everything I can.
As the first act curtain came down, Lara debated whether she should stay for the second act or leave. A figure appeared at the seat next to hers.
“Let’s get out of here,” Paul Martin commanded.
They had dinner at a bistro on the East Side. He sat across the table from her, studying her, quiet and wary. The waiter came to take their drink order.
“I’ll have a scotch and soda,” Lara said.
“Nothing for me.”
Lara looked at him in surprise.
“I don’t drink.”
After they had ordered dinner. Paul Martin said, “Miss Cameron, what do you want from me?”
“I don’t like owing anyone anything,” Lara said. “I owe you something, and you won’t let me pay you. That bothers me.”
“I told you before…you don’t owe me anything.”
“But I…”
“I hear your building is coming along well.”
“Yes.” She started to say “thanks to you,” then thought better of it.
“You’re good at what you do, aren’t you?”
Lara nodded. “I want to be. It’s the most exciting thing in the world to have an idea and watch it grow into concrete and steel, and become a building that people work in and live in. In a way, it becomes a monument, doesn’t it?”
Her face was vibrant and alive.
“I suppose it does. And is one monument going to lead to another?”
“You bet it is,” Lara said enthusiastically. “I intend to become the most important real estate developer in this city.”
There was a sexuality about her that was mesmerizing.
Paul Martin smiled. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”