Dad. I have to pick up Jan at her mom's. She spent the night there.
Does she need anything? A hat? A dress? I can have one of the girls pull some things for you to pick up on your way over there if you need it.
That's okay, Dad. Paul smiled at his father's voice. He was a pain in the ass sometimes, but he was basically a decent guy, and Paul loved him. I think Amanda got them everything they needed. She's in pretty bad shape over Matt, but she's incredibly organized, even now. She's an amazing woman.
The Ice Queen, Jack said, and then regretted it instantly, but the words slipped out before he could stop them.
That's a lousy thing to say about a woman who just lost her husband.
Sorry. I wasn't thinking. But he wasn't far off the mark. She always looked and seemed totally in control, and absolutely perfect. Just looking at her always gave Jack an almost irresistible urge to mess her up and take her clothes off. The very thought of it even now somehow struck him funny as he hung up the phone, and thought about her, which was something he did very seldom.
He was sorry about her loss, and he still remembered all too well how he had felt when Dori had died, but there was something so distant and cold about Paul's mother-in-law that it made it hard to really empathize much with her. She was so goddamn unbearably perfect. And she still looked incredibly like the way she had when she was Amanda Robbins, and left the screen at twenty-four to marry Matthew Kingston. It had been a huge Hollywood and society wedding, and for years people had guessed and made bets about whether or not she'd get bored and come back into the business. But she didn't. She kept her looks, and her icy beauty, but her career was over forever. It was also easy to believe that Matthew Kingston would never have let her. He acted as though he owned her.
Jack opened the closet in his dressing room, and was glad to see he had left a dark suit in it. It wasn't one of his best, but at least it was appropriate for the occasion, although all the ties he found in the small collection he kept there for emergencies were either red, bright blue, or yellow. He quickly strode out to his outer office to find Gladdie.
Why didn't you remind me about the funeral? He scowled at her, but he wasn't really angry and she knew it. He was one of those rare people who always took responsibility for his own mistakes, which was one of the many reasons why she loved working for him. And despite his reputation for being flip and irresponsible, she actually knew him a great deal better. As an employer, he was caring, generous, reliable, and a real pleasure to work for.
I just thought you had it worked out. Did you forget? she asked with a smile, and with a sheepish grin, he nodded.
Freudian, I guess. I hate going to the funerals of men who are younger than I am. Do me a favor, Glad, run down the street to Hermes and get me a dark tie. Nothing too miserable, but just serious enough so I don't embarrass Paul. Nothing with naked women on it. She laughed at him, and grabbed her purse just as the handbag manufacturer and his assistant came in. It was going to be a very quick meeting.
Jack had ordered a hundred bags by eleven o'clock, and Gladdie was back from Hermes by then with a slate-gray tie with tiny little white geometric figures on it. It was perfect. You do good work, he said gratefully, as he put it around his neck and tied it impeccably without looking in the mirror. He was wearing a dark gray suit and a white shirt, and handmade French oxfords. And he looked incredibly handsome with sandy blond hair, warm brown eyes, and chiseled features. Do I look respectable?
I'm not sure that's a word I'd use for you ' maybe beautiful is more like it. She smiled at him, totally inured to his charms, which he always found very pleasing about her. Being with Gladdie was always very soothing. She didn't give a damn about his looks or his reputation, or his womanizing, just about his business.