Chapter 7
WITH ALL THE pressures and tension at the network, finding a music teacher for Salima had slipped Blaise’s mind. She and Simon were singing together almost every night, and Salima was having fun, but Mark hadn’t dropped the ball on the project, even if Blaise had. A week after she’d made the request, he put a memo on her desk for her to find after her morning segment.
There were three names with phone numbers and e-mails, two women, one man, two from LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts, and one from Juilliard. His memo said he had spoken to all of them, and Blaise wandered out to his desk to discuss it with him.
“So who did you like best?” she asked, impressed with his thorough research. Salima was going to be thrilled.
“The one from Juilliard, hands down. The others sounded good, but the woman from Juilliard was more appealing. A little wacky maybe, but she was excited to work with Salima even though she’s blind. I thought the other two might be more nervous about it, although I could be wrong. And all three come from great schools.”
“Follow your gut,” Blaise said without hesitation. “Call her. Ask her to come to the house, so Salima can check her out. She has to like her too.”
“No problem.” And half an hour later, there was a follow-up note on her desk with the teacher’s name, and a time for an appointment the next day with Salima at the apartment, and of course Simon would be there too. It was set for the time Blaise usually came home from work.
The following day Blaise had only just come through the door five minutes before and was talking to Salima when the doorman called to announce their “guest.” It was the Juilliard teacher, Lucianna Goldstein. Mark had already told her that she was an Italian woman, married to an American, hence the name. And when she came through the door five minutes later, while Blaise was still taking off her coat, the woman was as incongruous as her name. She had a wide, welcoming smile, bright blue eyes, and a mellifluous voice, and a head full of shining gold curls. She had a large, generous body, an enormous bosom, and tiny spindly legs. She wore lots of bangle bracelets, too much perfume, dangling hoop earrings, and enormously high stiletto heels. And to top it all off, a hat with flowers on it that moved, which she carefully removed as soon as she entered the apartment and set down on the hall table as Blaise stared at it in fascination. It looked like a garden with tiny living things on it. There were so many different component parts to her outfit that Blaise didn’t know where to look, and she was sorry that Salima wouldn’t be able to share this vision. But the most noticeable thing about Lucianna was her voice. It was smooth as silk. And her eyes were the most brilliant blue she had ever seen, as she looked at Blaise warmly.
“Oh my,” Lucianna said with a smile that showed off perfect teeth, “you’re older than I thought you would be.” She looked straight at Blaise. “But that’s all right, it’s never too late to learn to sing.” She had a lovely accent, and Simon was grinning. The teacher thought Blaise was Salima, and she was quick to explain, as Salima arrived in the front hall, having heard the doorbell. She was listening intently and wrinkled her nose at the perfume that assaulted her as soon as she joined them.
“This is Salima, your prospective student,” Blaise explained. “Won’t you come in?” She offered Lucianna a cup of tea as they walked into the living room, but she declined, then she noticed the grand piano. It was a Steinway, and she approved. She seemed a little nervous with Salima, and even more so around Blaise. She knew exactly who they were and had told Mark she didn’t know that Blaise McCarthy had a blind daughter. And he told her that there would be a confidentiality agreement to sign if she was hired. It was standard fare in Blaise’s life. And the teacher had no problem with the agreement. She mentioned that she’d never had a blind student before.
They chatted for a few minutes, as Lucianna perched on the couch, and Salima mostly listened. She could hear that the woman was nervous, and Lucianna told them she had studied opera in Milan. She rattled off the various opera companies she had worked for all over Europe, and now she had been in the States for eighteen years, and with Juilliard for fifteen. She told Salima that if she was serious about a music career, she should apply. But for now, all Salima wanted were some lessons, and after half an hour of introductions, Lucianna asked her to sing. Simon had agreed to accompany her on the piano, and Salima took her place next to him. She was glad that he was there, and she asked Lucianna what she’d like to hear. She said she didn’t know any opera, but she knew show tunes, contemporary music, and gospel hymns. Diplomatically, Lucianna suggested one of each. She started with a song from Mamma Mia!, went on to Les Miserables, and finished with a gospel song that Blaise loved whenever she sang it. Her high notes were so high, they sounded as if they could shatter glass, and she hit them with ease. She went through the three songs easily, and Lucianna stared at her when she was finished.
“Did you warm up before I came?” she asked, looking worried.
“No, I didn’t. No one told me what time you’d be here,” which was why she was wearing sweatpants and socks, instead of at least jeans and shoes.
“You’ll ruin your voice if you do that,” the ample Italian woman warned her. “You must never sing without warming up first. And the gospel song—can you always hit those high notes?” Salima said she could, with a grin. Lucianna looked at her then with tears in her eyes. “Do you realize how lucky you are? What a gift you have? People train for years and can’t hit notes like that. You just soar right through it like a bird in the sky,” she said, and dabbed at her eyes. “What I could have done with a voice like yours.” She had explained that she was from Venice originally, although she had lived in Milan while she trained and studied. She asked Salima if she had any interest in opera, and Salima said she didn’t. She wanted to enjoy what she sang. It was mostly fun for her. “You should really be in school,” she said. “This is very naughty of you, to treat your voice like a toy. It’s not a plaything, it’s a gift.” She was a very funny woman, and Blaise thought she looked like a caricature of herself with her enormous body, skinny legs, and tiny feet in high heels. And she had gentle, loving eyes. Simon was watching her in fascination, and Salima was listening to her raptly.
“Would you be willing to take my daughter on as a student?” Blaise finally asked her bluntly, as everyone else beat around the bush.
“Of course,” she said with a wide smile that was wasted on Salima, but she reached out and touched her hand. “I would love to, it would be an honor. But I will expect you to work very hard,” she admonished Salima.
“How many times would you like to meet?” Blaise asked her and was startled when she said three times a week. “Is that too much?” Blaise asked with a look of concern. It seemed like a lot to her.
“Not if she’s serious about singing,” Lucianna answered. “If she had less of a voice, I’d say once or twice a week. But if we want results, and to train her voice properly, it should be three or even four times a week. We can start with three and see how she does.”
“What do you think, Salima?” Blaise didn’t want to leave her out of the decision and treat her like a child. “How many times a week would you want singing lessons?”
“Every day,” Salima said, grinning, and Lucianna looked thrilled. She looked like she had discovered gold that afternoon, or a diamond on the street.
They set their first meeting for the following afternoon, and Lucianna kissed Salima’s cheek and reminded her to keep her neck warm at all times and wear a scarf. She put her hat back on, shook hands with Blaise and Simon, and a moment later she was gone as they all stared at each other and began to laugh. She was a sweet woman even if she looked a little like a clown. That had only occurred to Blaise once they sat down.
“She smells awful, but I like her,” Salima was the first to comment.
“You should see what she looks like,” Blaise added with a smile, but she liked her too. There was something very warm and lovable about her.
Simon agreed that she was nice, and her credentials were excellent if she taught at Juilliard, and whatever happened, he thought it would be something fun for Salima to do. She was excited and talked about it all through dinner. Simon was cooking for them every night now. He tried to keep it light for Blaise but occasionally showed off with some of his fancier dishes. They were all superb. And it added a festive feeling to the evenings. Blaise found herself looking forward to their dinners together, and it was nice having someone ask her how her day was, and he looked as though he cared. Ever since their conversation about what she dealt with at the network, he had had even more respect for her, and sympathy when she came home.
And Salima was adjusting to Simon too. They had occasional arguments about how to spend their time. He had suggestions for every day, and he thought everything they did should have some educational value. But he also made her negotiate the post office, the pharmacy, the grocery store, the dry cleaner, the bank. And he forced her to take public transportation instead of cabs. She insisted that her mother preferred that she take taxis, but he didn’t care. He was trying to teach her everything that he considered useful to her, while he was there. He even made her put the groceries away, and complained when she did it out of order and he found cottage cheese in the cupboard and pasta in the fridge. He expected her to get it right, and occasionally he was a hard taskmaster, but whenever he was and she accomplished the task he had set before her, she felt great about herself. Blaise was watching her grow more self-confident every day. And he still wanted to work on her about getting a seeing-eye dog. He thought that with a dog she could go to school alone. He didn’t think she needed a caretaker all the time. And the thought of that panicked Blaise when he talked to her about it, and she told him to slow down.
“I have a fantastic opportunity with her while we’re here,” he explained. “I want her to gain as much ground as she can before she goes back to Caldwell,” he told her mother, and Blaise pointed out to him that he was moving ahead at jet speed, and so was Salima. She loaded and unloaded the dishwasher now with ease, and even helped him with the cooking. He had shown her how to make an omelet on her own, and it was good. She had surprised her mother with one on Sunday morning. They were definitely on a crash course toward success, and once her music lessons started, Salima was ecstatic. Some of what she had to do was boring, like scales, but the rest of the time she had a ball, and Lucianna also let her play with her voice. She loved to hear her sing. And once in a while they sang duets that were exquisite. Lucianna had a beautiful soprano voice, and when their voices blended, it sounded like angels singing. Sometimes it brought Blaise to tears to hear them, and Simon was deeply moved. Salima had a powerful voice, and it was growing stronger with the lessons. He could hear the difference within weeks.
And on the weekends, when she didn’t have work to catch up on, Blaise joined Simon and Salima on their outings. Even when she brought work home, she would stop what she was doing and go out with them for a while. They went to movies, stores, museums that had tactile exhibits, and a performance of La Traviata at the Met. Simon was using all the wonders of New York to educate and entertain her, and little by little he was making her more independent. He was constantly asking her to help him with chores or on the computer, and he asked her to do her own laundry, and she refused. She said her mother didn’t either, and he laughed. She had a point, and maybe Salima would never have to, so he gave up on that.
It was also a huge relief to Blaise that enough time had passed—Salima hadn’t come down with meningitis and was healthy. She had discussed it with their doctor, and the incubation period had passed. The school was staying closed for longer, but the risk of illness was at least not still a concern.
All of them were busy: Simon with Salima, Salima with the things he asked her to do, and especially her singing lessons, which were time consuming too, and Lucianna gave her homework. And Blaise was constantly swamped at work and trying to prove something to the boys upstairs. Zack was still breathing down her neck, and Susie Quentin got more ambitious every day. She wanted Charlie to give her more specials, and she was obviously jealous of Blaise. She wanted to show everyone what she could do. Zack played along with her with an idea that was typical of the entertainment division he had come from and unheard of in news. After a long meeting with Susie, he suggested she do a live interview with the first lady in January. It would be a first. He thought it would be a great coup to establish Susie as a valid alternative to Blaise, since all of her specials and interviews were taped. He said a live interview with the first lady would be “fresh and exciting,” and Susie came out of the meeting with stars in her eyes. She confided to several people that she was sure she’d be even more important at the network than Blaise after that.
Charlie had a quiet meeting with Zack as soon as he heard about it, trying to explain that a live interview with a first lady was fraught with risk. It was traditional and much safer to have it taped, as Blaise always did. Zack was quick to brush him off.
“We’re through with traditions around here,” Zack said, looking irritated. “We need new blood, new people, new ideas. We’re going live. And Susie’s just the one to do it.” Charlie hoped he was right and broke the news to Blaise himself, before she heard it from someone else.
“Is he crazy? What if something goes wrong? If the first lady says something she shouldn’t?” They both knew that happened. “She’ll never do it live.” But much to everyone’s amazement, her press secretary agreed to it. Susie had won the plum of the year. And Blaise felt like she’d been left in the dust. She would never have dared to suggest a live interview with the wife of a sitting president, or anyone else of that magnitude. Her subjects were far more comfortable knowing they were being taped, in case anything went wrong. It was Zack’s idea, but Susie was unlivable, she was so full of herself, after it was announced. Zack had created a monster, and Blaise had to live with it every day.
Mark felt sorry for her, and she talked to Simon about it several times at night.
He was shocked at the abuse she had to take, and the stress she was under, and he admired her immensely for her grace and poise, and strength. Although to him she readily confessed that she had an overwhelming urge to strangle Susie every time she saw her. And he didn’t blame her a bit.
In the weeks he’d been in New York with them, Simon had somehow become her confidant. He was smart, interested, and there every night. Blaise was surprised at the things she told him, how much she trusted him, and valued his opinions and advice about her life. And he was equally open with her about his own. He confessed the secrets of his childhood, his fears about his life and if he’d ever make something of himself, his regrets about Megan and the unhappy relationship he’d fallen into with her. And they talked about Salima a lot, and Blaise’s dreams for her. She wanted her to find a career path that was meaningful to her. It was the same advice her father had given her at the same age. Blaise wanted her to have a job she loved, to give meaning to her life. The rest would fall into place after that.
Simon respected Blaise enormously for the things she said. And despite the times she knew she hadn’t been there for her, Simon admired the kind of mother she was. Her heart was in the right place. And living under one roof, Blaise’s relationship with Salima was flourishing.
Both Simon and Blaise were surprised by the multitude of subjects they discussed, sometimes until very late at night. And neither of them felt the difference in their ages. They were just two people who had become friends, and respected each other, and liked each other better every day.
Both of them took pride in Salima’s progress. Thanks to Simon, she was more independent than she ever had been. She had learned how to do countless new things, and she was much more willing to go out into the world. But she still refused to use a cane, or talk about a dog. She was perfectly happy being with him.
“But what if I’m not here one day? If you’re a famous singer on a concert tour? You think I’m going to do that with you?” He teased her to make the point.
“You’d better!” she shouted at him and gave him a playful shove. She was totally comfortable with him now too. He was like the big brother she’d never had. “That’s your job!” she reminded him.
“What? Follow some crazy rock star around, while you sign autographs and keep me up all night, fighting off your fans? Hell, no! I’m going back to Massachusetts to live out my life in peace.”
“You’d be bored to death now after New York,” Salima said to him, and what she said was truer than she knew. He had been thinking that himself. He was having a ball in New York. And he loved spending time with Salima and Blaise. It no longer felt like a job to him after he had been there for a while. It had begun to feel like home, and they had a lot of fun together. His time with them had turned out to be none of what he expected. And when Eric called to check on him again, he told him so.
“Well, don’t wind up staying there with them,” Eric said mournfully, well aware that Blaise could afford to pay him far more than the school, and might steal him from them. “I’m expecting you back when we reopen in January,” Eric reminded him, but it seemed like a long way off. And Simon knew he had a contract with them that he had to honor until May. But in the meantime, he was thoroughly enjoying New York and everything it offered. And their dinners together every night felt like family. He loved his long conversations with Blaise.
Blaise was helping him clear the table one night and loaded the dishwasher with him, while Salima had a lesson with Lucianna later than usual, and Blaise was complaining about the network again. She couldn’t stand Zack Austin as her boss, and the trouble and angst he created for her every chance he got. Susie’s upcoming live interview still stuck in her throat, and the unpleasant, supercilious way Zack spoke to her sometimes made her want to quit. With his propensity for firing people without warning, she was tired of living with a sword over her head all the time. The tension he created around him was palpable and not the way she wanted to work.
“Sometimes I feel like if I blink for a minute, someone will knife me in the back and I’ll be gone. I just don’t want to live like that anymore, no matter how much they pay me. I want to be treated like a human being.” As she said it, she reached past him to take a plate out of the sink, and brushed very close to him. She could feel his warmth, and without thinking, he gently touched her cheek with his hand. He had never wanted to do that before, and she felt a current of electricity run through her. She looked up at him, and as their eyes met, she completely forgot what she’d been saying and so did he. He had felt it too. He didn’t know if he should apologize or ignore it, and Blaise went back to loading the dishwasher as though nothing had happened, so he took his cue from her. But it had been an odd feeling wanting to touch her, and he couldn’t stop himself.
Blaise had noticed more and more recently, that the age difference between them didn’t seem to exist. She looked up to him as a man, and shared many of his values and opinions, and he thought of her as a woman his own age. It had been so long since she’d had a man to share her thoughts with, and it suddenly seemed normal to talk to him about everything. He made so much sense. And he loved the absence of drama in her life. For three years, every day had been a roller coaster with Megan, as they hid from her abusive alcoholic husband, which had begun to seem normal to Simon. With Blaise he felt sane again. The fifteen years between them didn’t matter anymore. It was an odd but endearing friendship for both of them, which crossed the boundaries of her being his employer and the difference in their age.
She never mentioned how much time they spent together to anyone, or how impressed she was with him. All she ever said was what a terrific job he was doing with Salima. And she had said it to Mark several times. She never said anything else about him, and all Mark knew was that Abby’s replacement was working out well.
Blaise was on an all-day trip to Washington to interview a freshman senator who was making noise about running for president when she realized she had forgotten some papers at the office that she would need when she got back that night, and she called Mark to have him drop them off at her apartment on his way home.
“I’m sorry to do that to you,” she apologized. “I was so tired when I left yesterday, that I didn’t even notice they weren’t in my briefcase till I got on the plane today.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take a cab and drop them off after work. Can I leave them with the doorman?”
“They’re a little sensitive. There’s a report on the senator who just got outed for having an affair with a fourteen-year-old. Do you mind leaving them with Simon?”
“Sure, no problem.” And it would give him a chance to see Salima, which he hadn’t done since she got home. He hadn’t seen her in a year. They only talked on the phone, and he was one of her biggest fans.
Mark rang the doorbell when he got there, and he had the cab waiting downstairs. The papers Blaise wanted were in an envelope marked confidential. A man opened the door. Mark found himself looking at a tall handsome man with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He was wearing jeans and cowboy boots and had dark tousled hair. Simon looked at Mark and immediately guessed who he was. He matched Blaise’s description of him to perfection. Short, bald, and slight, he looked like a bundle of nerves, and he was wearing a blazer and an Hermès tie. He dressed for work every day. And Mark thought Simon looked like a movie star. He was tall, dark, and sexy, and suddenly Mark wondered if there was more going on with him and Blaise than what she said.
“I’m Simon,” he said, holding out a hand to Blaise’s assistant with a broad smile. “Come on in. I’m sure Salima would love to see you. She talks about you all the time.” Mark could hear her singing in the background. She was having her lesson with Lucianna.
“I don’t want to disturb her,” Mark said, looking nervous, just as Blaise had said he would. He handed Simon the envelope and quickly moved toward the elevator and rang. Simon looked disappointed and as though he were afraid he had said something to offend him. He hadn’t, but Mark had been so totally unprepared for his looks and the aura about him, and the ease Simon obviously felt in her home, that he was embarrassed to come in. The elevator was there in an instant, and with a wave and a smile he was gone. “Faster than the speed of sound,” Simon said to himself, closed the front door, and went to put the envelope on Blaise’s desk. She found it there when she got home. And she asked Simon about it when she had a cup of tea with him in the kitchen. Salima had already gone to bed, after a long, exhausting lesson. Lucianna was demanding a lot from her, but she loved it.
“Did you meet Mark today? He’s such a nice guy. He’s the best assistant I’ve ever had. I hope he stays forever.”
“I did meet him,” Simon confirmed with a puzzled look. “For about fourteen seconds. I was afraid I did something to upset him. I shook his hand, he looked panicked, and then he rang for the elevator and left.”
“He’s like a hummingbird,” she said, the perfect description of the man he had met. “He’s always in motion, and I told you, he’s very nervous. But he gets everything I need done.” Simon already knew how much she relied on him, and had been looking forward to meeting him. They had spoken many times on the phone.
“I hope I didn’t insult him in some way.”
“That’s just him,” she said, looking unconcerned, and then told Simon about the meeting in Washington that day. With her open, winning way, she had gotten the senator to admit he wanted to be president before he was thirty-nine years old, which was a major coup. It was going to shoot the ratings through the roof.
“Just as you always do,” Simon said, proud of her, as Blaise thought how nice it was to have someone to talk to about her day.
Mark mentioned the meeting with Simon the next day too, and he looked awkward when he spoke of it to Blaise. “You should have said something to me and warned me,” Mark chided her. “The door opened, and this hunk stood there smiling at me and held out his hand.”
“What was he supposed to do?” Blaise laughed at him. “Grab the envelope and slam the door in your face?”
“I had no idea he looked like that, Blaise. He looks like a movie star.” And then he couldn’t resist asking her the question that had been on his mind all night. They had a good relationship and she was always honest with him, unless it was something confidential she couldn’t tell him, or didn’t want him to know. He wondered if this might be one of those. “Are you in love with him?” She looked shocked when he asked the question, that he could have thought that, and she shook her head with a baffled look.
“Why would you think that? Did Simon say something inappropriate?” If so, she was going to talk to him about it, but it didn’t sound like Simon. He was polite and discreet and always very correct with her, even though they had become friends. Their developing friendship had been unexpected, but went no further than that. He had never been presumptuous or out of line with her. There had been that odd moment once at the kitchen sink, but they had both brushed it aside, and it hadn’t happened again.
“It wasn’t anything he said,” Mark corrected the impression immediately, to justifiably absolve Simon. “It’s what he looks like, and how comfortable he seems in your space. He’s right at home.”
“Obviously. He’s living there with us. You get pretty friendly when you see each other over breakfast and dinner every day, and run into each other in the kitchen at midnight over a cup of hot milk. If anything, we’re becoming friends. But I’m certainly not in love with him, and besides, he’s fifteen years younger than I am. He’s much more likely to fall for Salima than me. And there’s no sign of that either.” She sounded relieved.
“Well, if you’re not in love with him, you should be,” Mark said ruefully. “He’s the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen. And he doesn’t look his age. He looks older, and you seem like a kid. You two probably look good together. You don’t look a day older than he does.”
“Are you angling for a raise?” she teased him, but she was surprised by what he’d said. There had been no hint of romance between them, nor would there be. They would never be more than friends.
“I’m sorry. I just had to ask the question. Maybe it was wishful thinking. I was a little shocked at first. But when I think of the raw deal you got from Andrew Weyland, I wish you’d end up with a guy like Simon. You say he’s a great guy, and smart, and he’s fabulous looking. You deserve a prize after all the shit you’ve been through. And look at your ex-husband. Harry goes out with girls nearly fifty years younger than he is. What’s a mere fifteen?”
“That’s different. He’s a man. It’s acceptable when men go out with young girls. If women do it, people call them names.”
“They’re just jealous. If the opportunity arises, go for it. That’s all I have to say.” She was totally amazed by everything he’d said, and she said nothing about it to Simon that night. It would have been too embarrassing, and he probably would have thought she was crazy and trying to put a move on him. Besides, she could tell he was still suffering over Megan. For a thousand reasons, Mark’s fantasy was never going to happen, but it was interesting to hear.
In the avalanche of stresses and challenges she dealt with every day, thanks to Zack, Susie, and a host of others, she forgot all about Mark’s comments, until the following weekend, when Simon was helping her clean out a closet to make more room for Salima’s things. Blaise still had all the toys she used to play with, and she wanted to get rid of them now to give her more space. She was on top of a ladder and teetering dangerously when she stretched too far in one direction, and Simon reached out to grab her and steady her, with a firm grasp around her waist. And he kept it there until she stepped down. As she came down the ladder, she stopped when she was eye to eye with him, and the world seemed to stand still around them. Neither of them said a word, but Blaise felt the same electric current run through her that had happened once before at the sink. She tried to tell herself it was her imagination, but this time she knew it wasn’t. And Simon didn’t take his eyes off hers, nor his hands from around her waist. She could feel him there, and for an instant she felt herself moving closer to him, and then he shifted his gaze, and helped her the rest of the way down the ladder. She had no idea what had just happened, and she was afraid to ask him. Maybe nothing had, and as she put all the old toys in boxes, she told herself she had imagined it. It was nothing. But a little voice inside her said something different. And when she looked at Simon, his eyes were guarded and he was busy.
They both pretended not to notice. And everything was back to normal when he cooked dinner that night. Salima had requested homemade pizza, and the ones he made were delicious, with a huge salad. He had baked apple crumble for dessert, made with sugar substitutes for Salima’s diet. He served it with homemade dietetic vanilla ice cream. He was a genius at making the foods she could eat and making them taste great. And as they chatted and joked after dinner, Blaise realized again how close they’d gotten, and how at ease they were with each other, and she remembered the moment in the closet that afternoon, and the question Mark had asked her earlier in the week, about being in love with him. She didn’t think she was, but maybe those two moments that felt like an electric current running through her had been some kind of fantasy of her own. And if that was true, it made her feel like an old fool, and maybe she was. Mark was right, he was very handsome. But she saw much more than that in Simon now. She saw the person he was, the kind heart, the good values, the honesty. It was his qualities she liked so much, not his looks. That was just icing on the cake. And it was a cake she didn’t plan to eat anyway.
As though to remind her of it, Megan called him when he was sitting in the kitchen with her that night, after Salima went to her room to use her computer and write to a friend from school. They communicated through Facebook, and Salima had a lot of fun with it. Thanks to the programs on her computer, she could do Facebook like anyone else, and she loved it.
Blaise could tell instantly from the look on Simon’s face who the call was from. He hadn’t been answering Megan’s e-mails, but he had told Blaise that once in a while he took her calls, usually late at night when he was in bed, and thinking about her anyway. He admitted that he missed her, and what he said about her sometimes reminded Blaise of how she had felt about Andrew Weyland at first, when she missed him so terribly, but knew she had done the right thing to break up with him. She had never doubted it, but she missed him anyway, and her illusions about him.
Simon looked pained the moment he took the call, and disappeared to his room with his cell phone in his hand, while Blaise sat quietly in the kitchen, thinking about that afternoon and what it meant. She was sure it was nothing, just a moment between two people who were alone. But they weren’t going to wind up with each other because of it. And Blaise wondered if he’d go back to Megan when they both went back to school. The pull between them seemed to be strong.
He came back five minutes later with an apologetic look. “Sorry. I told her she has to stop calling me. She calls every time he slaps her around. It drives me nuts. It’s why she wanted to leave him in the first place. I told her to go to Al-Anon and she won’t.”
“It’s okay,” Blaise said reassuringly. “You don’t owe me any explanations.” She could see how upset he was by the call. She wasn’t sure if that meant he still loved her, or was trying to escape and having a hard time. And Megan didn’t make it any easier by calling him all the time, just as Andrew had done. Megan was hanging on to him for dear life. But not dear enough to leave her husband.
“I won’t take her calls anymore,” he said as much to himself as to her.
“Don’t feel bad,” she said with a sympathetic look. “I still take Andrew’s calls sometimes, four years later, although I’m always sorry when I do. It’s just an echo of old times, and not a good one for me.” But she knew it was different for him with Megan. Their relationship was more recent and the pain still very fresh.
“I think she loves me, or she says she does,” Simon said, with a troubled look. “The problem is she loves him too, even if she won’t admit it to me. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t still be with him, after three years with me. Maybe she loves him more.” He was still trying to sort it out, although he felt better since he’d come to New York and had some distance from her and her troubled life.
“Or history and kids,” Blaise said sensibly. “It’s hard to know why people stay together. Andrew has cheated on his wife for years, and probably always will. And she puts up with it. And I’m sure they’ll never leave each other. They like the fantasy of their marriage, but there’s not much there. Some people are willing to settle for that.”
“That’s not enough for me,” Simon said, looking anguished. “I want the real deal or I’d rather be alone.”
“Yeah, beware of what you wish for. That’s what I said, and now look at me. I’m alone, and probably always will be. At your age, you have lots of relationships ahead of you.” It made her sad to think about it, that her romantic life might well be over. It certainly looked that way. And in a lot of ways, she had made her peace with it, and told herself she didn’t have time anyway. Who could handle a relationship when you had a career like hers? She had neither the time, nor the energy. Her life with the network was all consuming, just as Harry had said. And nothing had changed. For one shining moment, she had believed in what she shared with Andrew. And he had made a mockery of it. It didn’t make her want to try again.
“I told Megan I was happy here,” Simon interrupted her train of thought. “It’s true. I’d really like to find a job in New York for next year.” He sounded hopeful as he said it.
“Then start looking,” Blaise encouraged him. “There are some excellent schools for the blind here. You should fill out some applications, and take a look at the schools while you’re in New York. You can even take Salima with you.” Blaise had no intention of keeping her in New York, once Caldwell opened again, and Salima had never asked to stay at home. She knew it wasn’t an option. But it was clear that Simon wanted a chance at something new, and Blaise thought it would be good for him.
They spent an easy quiet weekend. And on Sunday night she flew to L.A. Pat Olden, the congressman who’d been shot at UCLA, had died without regaining consciousness. Blaise wanted to attend his funeral, and pay her respects, and then she was interviewing the head of the university on Monday afternoon. Afterward, she was filming a special with a hot new movie star on Tuesday, and returning Tuesday night. Simon had promised her he’d take care of everything. And she kissed them both goodbye when she left.
“Call me if anything comes up,” she said to Simon, as he carried her bag to the elevator for her.
“You know I will. We’ll be fine.” He smiled at her. And in the flash of an instant, she thought she saw something in his eyes that she had seen twice before, and then it was gone. And there was no doubt in her mind. She had imagined it. Mark was crazy. She was sure of it. She and Simon were just friends, and it was enough for both of them.