"Nothing lasts forever" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sheldon Sidney)

Chapter Twenty-five

Paige stood there, frozen. Alfred smiled. "May I come in?" She was flustered. "Of. . . of course. I'm . . . sorry." She watched Alfred walk into the living room, and she was filled with conflicting emotions. She was happy and excited and angry at the same time. Why am I going on like this? Paige thought. He probably dropped by to say hello.

Alfred turned to her. "I've left Karen."

The words were a shock.

Alfred moved closer to her. "I made a big mistake, Paige. I never should have let you go. Never."

"Alfred. . ." Paige suddenly remembered. "Excuse me."

She hurried to the telephone and picked it up. "Jason?"

"Yes, Paige. About tonight, we could—"

"I . . .I can't see you."

"Oh. If tonight is bad, what about tomorrow night?"

"I ... I'm not sure."

He sensed the tension in her voice. "Is anything wrong?"

"No. Everything is fine. I'll call you tomorrow and explain."

"All right." He sounded puzzled.

Paige replaced the receiver.

"I've missed you, Paige," Alfred said. "Have you missed me?"

No. I just follow strangers on the street and call them Alfred. "Yes," Paige admitted.

"Good. We belong together, you know. We always have."

Have we? Is that why you married Karen? Do you think you can walk in and out of my life any time you please?

Alfred was standing close to her. "Haven't we?"

Paige looked at him and said, "I don't know." It was all too sudden.

Alfred took her hand in his. "Of course you do."

"What happened with Karen?"

Alfred shrugged. "Karen was a mistake. I kept thinking about you and all the great times we had. We were always good for each other."

She was watching him, wary, guarded. "Alfred . . ."

"I'm here to stay, Paige. When I say 'here,' I don't exactly mean that. We're going to New York."

"New York?"

"Yes. I'll tell you all about it. I could use a cup of coffee."

"Of course. I'll make a fresh pot. It will just take a few minutes."

Alfred followed her into the kitchen, where Paige began to prepare the coffee. She was trying to get her thoughts in order. She had wanted Alfred back so desperately, and now that he was here . . .

Alfred was saying, "I've learned a lot in the last few years, Paige. I've grown up."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You know I've been working with WHO all these years."

"I know."

"Those countries haven't changed any since we were kids. In fact, some of them are worse. There's more disease down there, more poverty ..."

"But you were there, helping," Paige said.

"Yes, and I suddenly woke up."

"Woke up?"

"I realized I was throwing my life away. I was down there, living in misery, working twenty-four hours a day, helping those ignorant savages, when I could have been making a bundle of money over here."

Paige was listening in disbelief.

"I met a doctor who has a practice on Park Avenue in New York. Do you know how much he makes a year? Over five hundred thousand dollars! Did you hear me? Five hundred thousand a year!"

Paige was staring at him.

"I said to myself, 'Where has that kind of money been all of my life?' He offered me a position as an associate," Alfred said proudly, "and I'm going in with him. That's why you and I are going to New York."

Paige stood there, numbed by what she was hearing.

"I'll be able to afford a penthouse apartment for us, and to get you pretty dresses, and all the things I've always promised you." He was grinning. "Well, are you surprised?"

Paige's mouth was dry. "I ... I don't know what to say, Alfred."

He laughed. "Of course you don't. Five hundred thousand dollars a year is enough to make anyone speechless."

"I wasn't thinking of the money,'' Paige said slowly.

"No?"

She was studying him, as though seeing him for the first time. "Alfred, when you were working for WHO, didn't you feel you were helping people?"

He shrugged. "Nothing can help those people. And who the hell really cares? Would you believe that Karen wanted me to stay down there in Bangladesh? I told her no way, so she went back." He took Paige's hand. "So here I am. ... You're a little quiet. I guess you're overwhelmed by all this, huh?"

Paige thought of her father. He would have been a big success on Park Avenue, but he wasn't interested in money. His only interest was in helping people.

"I've already divorced Karen, so we can get married right away." He patted her hand. "What do you think of the idea of living in New York?"

Paige took a deep breath. "Alfred ..."

There was an expectant smile on his face. "Yes?"

"Get out."

The smile slowly faded. "What?"

Paige rose. "I want you to get out of here."

He was confused. "Where do you want me to go?" "I won't tell you," Paige said. "It would hurt your feelings."

After Alfred had gone, Paige sat lost in thought. Kat had been right. She had been clinging to a ghost. Helping those ignorant savages, when I could have been making a bundle over here. . . . Five hundred thousand a year!

And that's what I've been hanging on to, Paige thought wonderingly. She should have felt depressed, but instead she was filled with a feeling of elation. She suddenly felt free. She knew now what she wanted.

She walked over to the telephone and dialed Jason's number.

"Hello."

"Jason, it's Paige. Remember telling me about your house in Noe Valley?"

"Yes . . ."

"I'd love to see it. Are you free tonight?"

Jason said quietly, "Do you want to tell me what's going on, Paige? I'm very confused."

"I'm the one who's confused. I thought I was in love with a man I knew a long time ago, but he's not the same man. I know what I want now."

"Yes?"

"I want to see your house."

Noe Valley belonged to another century. It was a colorful oasis in the heart of one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world.

Jason's house was a reflection of him—comfortable, neat, and charming. He escorted Paige through the house. "This is the living room, the kitchen, the guest bathroom, the study . . ."He looked at her and said, "The bedroom is upstairs. Would you like to see it?"

Paige said quietly, "Very much."

They went up the stairs into the bedroom. Paige's heart was pounding wildly. But what was happening seemed inevitable. I should have known from the beginning, she thought.

Paige never knew who made the first move, but somehow they were in each other's arms and Jason's lips were on hers, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world. They started to undress each other, and there was a fierce urgency in both of them. And then they were in bed, and he was making love to her.

"God," he whispered. "I love you."

"I know," Paige teased. "Ever since I told you to put on the white coat."

After they made love, Paige said, "I'd like to spend the night here."

Jason smiled. "You won't hate me in the morning?"

"I promise."

Paige spent the night with Jason, talking . . . making love . . . talking. In the morning, she cooked breakfast for him.

Jason watched her, and said, "I don't know how I got so lucky, but thank you."

"I'm the lucky one," Paige told him.

"You know something? I never got an answer to my proposal."

"You'll have an answer this afternoon."

That afternoon, a messenger arrived at Jason's office, with an envelope. Inside was the card that Jason had sent with the model house.

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Please check one.