Chapter 9
Charlie boarded his plane on the Sunday before Thanksgiving with a strange mixture of trepidation and excitement, like a child before Christmas who is half afraid that some of his mischief through the year may have counted against him, but who has an overriding faith that Santa wouldn’t let him down.
There was no denying or changing the fact that he hadn’t seen Devon in eleven weeks, almost three months, way too long not to see the woman he loved, and who loved him.
Devon had been remarkably restrained and reasonable about it, but it had been much longer than he had planned.
He had been working nonstop on complicated deals and business problems since Labor Day, with some important decisions to make, about whether to sell the company or not.
Somehow day-to-day life wore him down, and in spite of having his own plane at his disposal, he hadn’t made it to New York.
She had been busy too, and had just finished her portrait of the ambassador to the United Nations, and she said it had come out extremely well and the subject was pleased.
She had done nothing but work since she’d last seen him, but between being married and being busy, Charlie hadn’t brought a lot to the table in recent months.
He didn’t say it to Devon, but he felt guilty.
He needed to see her. They had known each other for such a short time that he wanted to see her and make sure he still loved her as much as he thought.
She seemed very stable and constant, and he had been very good about calling and texting her this time, and not abandoning her, although their conversations were usually short, rushed between meetings, and his texts equally so.
They were barely more than a few words and an emoji of a kiss or a heart.
She was thrilled that they were going to spend a week together.
He had cleared his schedule for the entire week.
Faye was in Aspen, Liam in Paris. He had no family to spend the holiday with, so he was giving it all to Devon.
He thought it would be interesting to see how they got along, living at her place for a week.
It was a more formal setting than the barn in East Hampton, and it would be a slice of real life, which he wanted to share with her.
She was ecstatic he was coming, and had asked him dozens of questions about what he liked to eat for breakfast, if he wanted to go to the theater, or whether to make restaurant reservations for them.
She treated him like a homecoming hero, or a husband, which was unfamiliar to him.
Faye never asked him what he wanted, and they never went out to dinner together.
That was ancient history for them. With Devon, everything felt bright, shiny, and new, with the feel of first love. It almost felt like he was moving in.
He had his own apartment on Fifth Avenue, which was more like a hotel suite than a home.
Hers was where she actually lived and worked.
It meant a lot to her to have him stay with her there.
She wanted him to feel welcome and pampered.
He was touched by the effort she was making.
He had said that he loved her, so this was what happened between normal people when they fell in love and the relationship progressed.
He had forgotten or never known what that was like.
Faye had never been that attentive, even in the beginning.
It was more familiar to him to be ignored.
Devon had thought about it and made a decision before he came.
She was not going to complain about the three months since she had last seen him.
She was going to make it so comfortable and homelike for him to be there that he would want to come back, hopefully sooner in the future than the time between now and their last meeting in the Hamptons.
It had been a long time, and it had been hard.
But his frequent contacts, however brief, had reassured her that he wasn’t abandoning her, he was just busy,which was inevitable with a man as important as Charlie.
She believed that he hadn’t had time to come to New York, and she had been valiant about it.
The three portraits she had completed had kept her busy and filled her time.
She was starting her last commission of the year the Monday after Thanksgiving.
It was for a famous American movie star who already had a sizable collection of portraits of himself, and loved having them done.
He had said that his collection wasn’t complete without one by Devon Darcy, and he couldn’t wait to sit for her.
She intended to finish it by Christmas, take a break, and get ready to do Charlie’s portrait in January.
She was keeping the whole month free for him, and was booked solid for February and March.
She would be doing portraits of a well-known senator and two women, a great philanthropist and a writer.
She loved the variety of subjects she painted, but the one of Charlie was the one she most wanted to do.
Her whole heart would be in it, and she already had some thoughts about the right look and background, but she wanted to hear his ideas too.
She filled her apartment with flowers the day before he came, had everything spotlessly clean and in perfect order.
She’d made reservations at the restaurants he requested, had her hair trimmed, gotten a manicure and pedicure.
She was ready for visiting royalty, and more precisely the love of her life.
She had stocked the refrigerator with things she had noticed he liked to eat, including a tin of caviar she had bought for Thanksgiving.
She was going to cook the turkey herself, and had been reading recipes for stuffing.
She had bought all the traditional trimmings, and ordered pies at her local bakery in the Village.
When the plane landed at Teterboro, Charlie stopped at his apartment first to pick up some things he thought he’d need and hadn’t bothered to bring—a bathrobe, a razor and toothbrush, a pair of slippers—and then stopped at a florist to buy Devon an enormous bouquet of flowers.
He noticed that the city was already being decorated for Christmas, and the West Village had a warm, friendly neighborhood feeling to it when he got out of the car with his usual driver, and rang her doorbell.
He smiled when he heard her voice on the intercom, and all his anxious misgivings were forgotten.
She opened the door in black velvet pants and a red sweater, and he pulled her into his arms and instantly remembered what he had been missing and how much he loved her.
All doubt was swept away on a river of love that carried them both along.
The driver and Devon helped him carry his things upstairs into her apartment and to her bedroom on the upper floor.
He had never been in her apartment, and he saw all the beautiful things she had collected, her paintings hanging, candles lit, and soft music playing, and he felt as though he was in a magical place.
As soon as the door closed on his driver, Charlie’s passion for her overflowed, and they raced up the stairs to her bedroom to make love.
Her bedroom felt like a cocoon that enveloped him, and her bed like a cloud.
He wondered how he had stayed away from her for as long as he had.
Clearly, he had forgotten how bewitching she was, and how beautiful, and how amazing their lovemaking was.
Several hours later, he put on his bathrobe and they wandered downstairs to the kitchen.
She made toast, chopped an egg, sliced lemons, and served the caviar in a crystal bowl on a silver platter instead of saving it for Thanksgiving.
Everything was perfect and beautiful, and arranged to make him feel welcome and at home. He felt like royalty.
He walked into her studio and was in awe of her recent paintings. She showed him photographs of the three portraits she had done since she’d last seen him, and he was stunned by how beautiful they were. He couldn’t wait to sit for his in January.
She had cold chicken in the fridge and they made pasta and a salad, ate dinner, and finished the caviar.
“You are going to get me so spoiled I will never want to leave,” he said, eating by candlelight in her kitchen.
“I missed you so much,” he said in a husky voice filled with emotion.
They put the dishes in the dishwasher and the leftovers in the fridge, and went upstairs to sit in the cozy den off her bedroom.
The apartment wasn’t large but it was warm and welcoming.
His house in Atherton was much bigger and more of a showplace, but it was cold, while Devon had given her home her own special, inviting, eclectic vibe.
It was the home of an artist, and a sensitive woman who loved beautiful things.
She looked perfect in her natural habitat, and he fell in love with her all over again.