Chapter 2
John thought about Lillith again the next morning, after he read The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal online.
There was a mention of his deal again in The Wall Street Journal.
It had made headlines right after it happened, with the phrase “John Williams strikes again” in bold print.
He liked the validation of his negotiation talents, but they were well known to everyone in the business sector.
His success had been phenomenal for thirty years.
Helen used to keep clipping albums of articles like this.
Eventually, they had so many of them that he told her to stop.
He no longer kept them. Now and then he printed an interview he particularly liked, but most of the time he didn’t.
Helen had said that she was keeping them for Gabby to have one day, but John could easily envision his daughter making a bonfire of them, given her opinion of him.
He had no illusions about that, after almost twenty years of her outspoken criticism.
She had gone sour on him in her teens, and it had gotten worse as the years went by.
By the time she graduated from college, their relationship seemed irreparable.
Thinking about meeting Lillith the night before was more agreeable than thinking about his daughter.
He no longer had any idea how to get close to Gabby, now that her mother was gone.
Helen had been the glue that had kept their family together.
But all pretense of it had disappeared with her.
John had a fatherly way with younger people, particularly young women who crossed his path.
They gave him a moment of the warmth he always hoped to feel from Gabby, and never did.
She was relentless in her criticism of him, without pardon or mercy.
She used to write him angry emails. She no longer even did that.
He wasn’t sure what was worse, her scathing accusations or her silence.
Sometimes the latter was worse. It told him she didn’t care about him at all.
It was hard knowing that there was no one on earth who loved him now, except maybe Isabelle as a close friend.
It made him think of Lillith, and how lonely she must be at this time of year, far from both her parents, with no semblance of family life to warm her.
Before he left the apartment for the office, he decided to make a small gesture, hoping it would provide some small difference for her.
He emailed his florist and had them send her two dozen roses in winter white.
He sent another bouquet of fuchsia roses to Isabelle, to thank her for the splendid dinner.
To Isabelle he said, “Always perfect, better than ever. Fabulous evening with a divine hostess. Great fun! Always, John.” And to Lillith, “Great fun sitting next to you last night. Merry Christmas. Best, John Williams.” Helen used to send flowers and do the cards for him, as the perfect wife she was. Now he did his own.
He had no intention of seeing Lillith again.
It was just a kind gesture from an old man.
And he knew Isabelle was leaving for L.A.
the next day, and he would see her when she got back.
She would have a happy Christmas with her daughter, Angela’s husband, Aaron, and their kids.
John was leaving for his boat in St. Barth in a few days.
It was the ultimate in luxury. It was the only place where he truly relaxed, with a crew of forty to serve him.
It seemed particularly self-indulgent now that he was alone.
He and Helen had spent some of their best times on the boat.
It was a three-hundred-fifty-foot sailboat built by Perini in Italy, the biggest sailboat on the water.
The Lady H was his pride and joy, with an owner’s cabin more comfortable and elegant than the Ritz in Paris, which had inspired the interior designers.
Her exterior was sleek and graceful despite her size.
He loved riding up to the top of the mast, and just sitting there, looking out to sea. It was peaceful.
After he sent the flowers, he rushed off to the office. Sam was waiting for him downstairs. It was a short ride to Park Avenue, and he hurried into the building in a bitter cold wind. He was happy to be leaving soon, and to get the warm weather in St. Barth.
He was stacking up files to take with him, most of them about his recent acquisition, when the intercom buzzed on his desk and he picked it up.
“Lillith Jones,” his secretary said, “on line one.” He was surprised to hear from her, and then remembered the flowers.
He had sent them to her office, since he didn’t remember her home address.
He hadn’t written it down when he dropped her off, not expecting to see her again.
But he knew the name of the design firm she worked for since Isabelle used their services.
“Hello,” he said in an even tone, happy to hear from her. It was an unexpected treat.
“You sent me the most beautiful white roses I’ve ever seen. They look like a rose garden on my desk.”
“Red seemed too aggressive,” he said, and he had thought they sent the wrong message, even though red would have been appropriate for Christmas, and he had always thought poinsettias looked cheap. The white roses were as elegant as he was, and as beautiful as she was.
“Thank you, that was so nice of you, and such a happy surprise.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
“I’m taking them home. They’re going to give my apartment some pizzazz.
I didn’t put a tree up this year. It seemed stupid and too much trouble if no one is going to see it.
” He felt sorry for her again as she said it.
And yet, she wasn’t pathetic. She was open and honest and real, a little bit the way Gabby had been when she was a lot younger, until her late teens. She got mean after that.
“Would you like to have a drink after work?” he asked her on the spur of the moment. The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. She hesitated for a beat, and sounded startled.
“Sure, I’d love to.”
“The Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle, six o’clock. Will that work?”
“Perfectly. I’ll take my beautiful roses home tomorrow. I’d look weird staggering into the Carlyle with an enormous vase of flowers.”
“I can drive you home if you want to bring them.”
“Tomorrow will be fine. I’ll meet you there.” He could see her smiling while they talked, it was in her voice. She seemed like a happy, positive person, despite her family situation.
“See you at six,” he said, and they hung up. He was smiling when he did. He was excited to see her, and not sure why. She was just a young woman he had done something nice for. There was no deeper meaning to it than that.
He left the office in time to meet her, and she arrived five minutes later in a red coat, a short black skirt, and tall high-heeled black suede boots that disappeared under her skirt.
She looked terrific, but he didn’t say it.
He didn’t want her to think that he was hitting on her, because he wasn’t.
It was just a friendly drink. There was soft music playing and they both ordered wine.
“I read online about the ships you just bought,” she said easily, looking interested. “That’s a lot of ships.”
“It is,” he said with a smile. “Seventeen. They’re all going into dry dock to be refitted as container ships.
When they do, the press will have a lot of nasty things to say about me.
All the men who worked on them will be let go.
The previous owners knew that, but it makes me look like the villain, because I own the ships now. ”
“That doesn’t sound very fair to you.” She was sympathetic, and he smiled again.
“That’s the way it works. I’m used to it.
We’ll give them all proper severance, but the papers won’t say that.
We notified the unions, so it won’t come as a surprise.
” She nodded. He seemed to exist in a tough world, but he was equal to it.
She talked about her family but didn’t seem bitter about them, which impressed him, unlike Gabby, who had kept careful track of every sin he’d ever committed in her eyes.
Lillith was matter-of-fact about her father’s penchant for very young women, most of whom were younger than she was.
“He likes them young and not for long. He dazzles them, and then he moves on. He’s the head of an ad agency.
My mother was a model in one of their ad campaigns.
She’s still beautiful, when she’s not expecting twins,” Lillith said with a laugh.
“She’s fifty-one, and her husband is thirty-nine.
She looks amazing for her age. He looks older than she does.
He’s an actor on daytime soaps, which is why they live in L.A.
She’s due on Christmas. I figured they had enough going on, and I’d avoid the craziness.
She’s been on bed rest for three months and she can’t wait for it to be over.
They’re fraternal twins, a boy and a girl.
I haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving. She was huge then.
It makes you think twice about having babies.
They’re happy. I’ve been an only child until now.
It was lonely after the divorce, with both my parents leading their own lives, but otherwise I liked it.
It doesn’t matter now.” Lillith looked so young and innocent, with a wistful smile that touched him.
He could tell that she hadn’t had a happy childhood, but she was philosophical about it.
“I’m an only child too,” he said, “and so is my daughter.”