“That’s awful!” Lara said sympathetically.
“The awful part was that I never even gave that concert. I had missed the plane!”
Lara leaned forward, eagerly. “Tell me more.”
“Well, one time in Sao Paulo the pedals fell off the piano in the middle of a Chopin concert.”
“What did you do?”
“I finished the sonata without pedals. Another time the piano slid clear across the stage.”
When Philip talked about his work, his voice was filled with enthusiasm.
“I’m very lucky. It’s wonderful to be able to touch people and transport them into another world. The music gives each of them a dream. Sometimes I think music is the only sanity left in an insane world.” He laughed self-consciously. “I didn’t mean to sound pompous.”
“No. You make millions of people so happy. I love to hear you play.” She took a deep breath. “When I hear you play Debussy’s Voiles, I’m on a lonely beach, and I see the mast of a ship sailing in the distance…”
He smiled. “Yes, so do I.”
“And when I listen to your Scarlatti, I’m in Naples, and I can hear the horses and the carriages, and see the people walking through the streets…” She could see the pleasure in his face as he listened to her.
She was dredging up every memory of her sessions with Professor Meyers.
“With Bartok, you take me to the villages of Central Europe, to the peasants of Hungary. You’re painting pictures, and I lose myself in them.”
“You’re very flattering,” Philip said.
“No. I mean every word of it.”
Dinner arrived. It consisted of a Chateaubriand with pommes frites, a Waldorf salad, fresh asparagus, and a fruit tart for dessert. There was a wine for each course. Over dinner Philip said, “Lara, we keep talking about me. Tell me about you. What is it like to put up enormous buildings all over the country?”
Lara was silent for a moment. “It’s difficult to describe. You create with your hands. / create with my mind. I don’t physically put up a building, but I make it possible. I dream a dream of bricks and concrete and steel, and make it come true. I create jobs for hundreds of people: architects and bricklayers and designers and carpenters and plumbers. Because of me, they’re able to support their families. I give people beautiful surroundings to live in and make them comfortable. I build attractive stores where people can shop and buy things they need. I build monuments to the future.” She smiled, sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to make a speech.”
“You’re quite remarkable, do you know that?”
“I want you to think so.”
It was an enchanted evening, and by the time it was over, Lara knew that for the first time in her life she was in love. She had been so afraid that she might be disappointed, that no man could live up to the image in her imagination. But here was Lochinvar in the flesh, and she was stirred.
When Lara got home, she was so excited she was unable to go to sleep. She went over the evening in her mind, replaying the conversation again and again and again. Philip Adler was the most fascinating man she had ever met. The telephone rang. Lara smiled and picked it up. She started to say, “Philip…,” when Paul Martin said, “Just checking to make sure you got home safely.”
“Yes,” Lara said.
“How did your meeting go?”
“Fine.”
“Good. Let’s have dinner tomorrow night.”
Lara hesitated. “All right.” I wonder if there’s going to be a problem.
Chapter Twenty-one
The following morning, a dozen red roses were delivered to Lara’s apartment. So, he enjoyed the evening, too, Lara thought happily. She hurriedly tore open the card attached to the flowers. It read: “Baby, looking forward to our dinner tonight. Paul.”
Lara felt a sharp sense of disappointment. She waited all morning for a call from Philip. She had a busy schedule, but she was unable to keep her mind on her work.
At two o’clock Kathy said, “The new secretaries are here for you to interview.”
“Start sending them in.”
There were half a dozen of them, all of them highly qualified. Gertrude Meeks was the choice of the day. She was in her thirties, bright and upbeat, and obviously in awe of Lara.