“Why did you decide to come to the theater tonight?” Lara asked.
He had come to tell her to leave him alone, but being with her now, being this close to her, he could not bring himself to say it. “I heard good things about the show.”
Lara smiled. “Maybe we’ll go again and see it together, Paul.”
He shook his head. “Miss Cameron, I’m not only married, I’m very much married. I happen to love my wife.”
“I admire that,” Lara said. “The building will be finished on the fifteenth of March. We’re having a party to celebrate. Will you come?”
He hesitated a long time trying to word his refusal as gently as possible. When he finally spoke, he said, “Yes, I’ll come.”
The celebration for the opening of the new building was a moderate success. Lara Cameron’s name was not big enough to attract many members of the press or any of the city’s important dignitaries. But one of the mayor’s assistants was there, and a reporter from the Post.
“The building is almost fully leased out,” Keller told Lara. “And we have a flood of inquiries.”
“Good,” Lara said absently. Her mind was on something else. She was thinking about Paul Martin and wondering whether he would appear. For some reason it was important to her. He was an intriguing mystery. He denied that he had helped her, and yet…She was pursuing a man old enough to be her father. Lara put the connection out of her mind.
Lara attended to her guests. Hors d’oeuvres and drinks were being served, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. In the midst of the festivities, Paul Martin arrived, and the tone of the party immediately changed. The workmen greeted him as though he were royalty. They were obviously in awe of him.
I’m a corporate attorney…I don’t deal with unions.
Martin shook hands with the mayor’s assistant and some of the union officials there, then went up to Lara.
“I’m glad you could come,” Lara said.
Paul Martin looked around at the huge building and said, “Congratulations. You’ve done a good job.”
“Thank you.” She lowered her voice. “And I do mean thank you.”
He was staring at her, bemused by how ravishing Lara looked and the way he felt, looking at her.
“The party’s almost over,” Lara said. “I was hoping you would take me to dinner.”
“I told you, I have dinner with my wife and children.” He was looking into her eyes. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
Lara smiled. “That will do nicely.”
They stopped at a small bar on Third Avenue. They talked, but afterward neither of them would remember what they talked about. The words were camouflage for the sexual tension between them.
“Tell me about yourself,” Paul Martin said. “Who are you? Where are you from? How did you get started in this business?”
Lara thought of Sean MacAllister and his repulsive body on top of hers. “That was so good we’re going to do it again.”
“I came from a little town in Nova Scotia,” Lara said. “Glace Bay. My father collected rents from some boardinghouses there. When he died, I took over. One of the boarders helped me buy a lot, and I put up a building on it. That was the beginning.”
He was listening closely.
“After that I went to Chicago and developed some buildings there. I did well and came to New York.” She smiled. “That’s really the whole story.” Except for the agony of growing up with a father who hated her, the shame of poverty, of never owning anything, the giving of her body to Sean MacAllister…
As though reading her mind, Paul Martin said, “I’ll bet it wasn’t really all that easy, was it?”
“I’m not complaining.”
“What’s your next project?”
Lara shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve looked at a lot of possibilities, but there’s nothing I’m really wild about.”
He could not take his eyes off her.
“What are you thinking?” Lara asked.
He took a deep breath. “The truth? I was thinking that if I weren’t married, I would tell you that you’re one of the most exciting women I’ve ever met. But I am married, so you and I are going to be just friends. Do I make myself clear?”