“…Einstein loved the piano. He used to play with Rubin stein, but Einstein kept playing off beat. Finally, Rubinstein couldn’t stand it anymore, and he yelled, ‘Albert, can’t you count?’…”
“…Congress must have been drunk to pass the Tax Reform Act. It’s going to cripple the building industry… ”
“…and at the end of the evening when Brahms left the party he said, ‘If there’s anyone here I’ve forgotten to insult, I apologize.’ ”
The Tower of Babel.
Paul Martin arrived alone, and Lara hurried over to the door to greet him. “I’m so glad you could come, Paul.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it.” He looked around the room. “I want to meet Philip.”
Lara took him over to where Philip was standing with a group. “Philip, this is an old friend of mine, Paul Martin.”
Philip held out his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
The two men shook hands.
“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Adler. Lara’s a remarkable woman.”
“That’s what I keep telling him.” Lara smiled.
“She doesn’t have to tell me,” Philip said. “I know how lucky I am.”
Paul was studying him. “Do you?”
Lara could feel the sudden tension in the air. “Let me get you a cocktail,” she said to Paul.
“No, thanks. Remember? I don’t drink.”
Lara bit her lip. “Of course. Let me introduce you to some people.” She escorted him around the room, introducing him to some of the guests.
One of the musicians was saying, “Leon Fleisher is giving a recital tomorrow night. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He turned to Paul Martin, who was standing next to Howard Keller. “Have you heard him play?”
“No. ”
“He’s remarkable. He plays only with his left hand, of course.”
Paul Martin was puzzled. “Why would he do that?”
“Fleisher developed carpal-tunnel syndrome in his right hand about ten years ago.”
“But how can he give a recital with one hand?”
“Half a dozen composers wrote concertos for the left hand. There’s one by Demuth, Franz Schmidt, Korngold, and a beautiful concerto by Ravel.”
Some of the guests were asking Philip to play for them.
“All right. This is for my bride.” He sat down at the piano and began to play a theme from a Rachmaninoff piano concerto. The room was hushed. Everyone seemed mesmer ized by the lovely strains that filled the penthouse. When Philip rose, there was loud applause.
An hour later the party began to break up. When they had seen the last guest to the door, Philip said, “That was quite a party.”
“You hate big parties, don’t you?” Lara said.
Philip took her in his arms and grinned. “Did it show?”
“We’ll only do this every ten years,” Lara promised. “Philip, did you have a feeling that our guests were from two different planets?”
He put his lips to her cheek. “It doesn’t matter. We have our own planet. Let’s make it spin.…”
Chapter Twenty-six
Lara decided to work at home mornings.
“I want us to be together as much as possible,” she told Philip.
Lara asked Kathy to arrange for some secretaries to be interviewed at the penthouse. Lara talked to half a dozen before Marian Bell appeared. She was in her middle twenties with soft blond hair, attractive features, and a warm personal ity.
“Sit down,” Lara said.
“Thank you.”
Lara was looking over her resume. “You were graduated from Wellesley College?”
“Yes. ”
“And you have a B.A. Why do you want a job as a secretary?”
“I think I can learn a lot working for you. Whether I get this job or not, I’m a big fan of yours, Miss Cameron.”
“Really? Why?”
“You’re my role model. You’ve accomplished a lot, and you’ve done it on your own.”
Lara was studying the young woman. “This job would mean long hours. I get up early. You’d be working at my apartment. You’d start at six in the morning.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem. I’m a hard worker.” Lara smiled. She liked Marian. “I’ll give you a one-week trial,” she said.
By the end of the week Lara knew that she had found a jewel. Marian was capable and intelligent and pleasant. Gradually, a routine was established. Unless there was an emergency, Lara spent the mornings working at the apart ment. In the afternoon she would go to the office.