Chapter 8
Austin Wylie called Eugenia four times on Friday morning, and she finally decided
to take the call. He didn’t wait for her to turn down his offer, he was calling her
to improve it, which showed how anxious he was to invest in her business. “I want to
make you the best offer I can. Natasha is driving me crazy. She wants part ownership in
your business. Name your terms and let’s see if we can make a deal.” His Texas drawl
was more pronounced than ever.
“I’m sure you’ve guessed that your last offer was not acceptable.” She decided to
follow Patrick’s advice, and go for broke, literally. “I’m prepared to give you ten
percent of my business for a thirty-million-dollar investment from you,” she said, with
her stomach in a knot. There was a long pause and he came back at her.
“Twenty percent of the business for twenty million, and that’s my best and final
offer.” She wasn’t sure it was, but she had gotten him exactly where she wanted him,
with Patrick’s help. She was giving up twenty percent of her business for the twenty
million dollars she needed to stay afloat for a very healthy amount of time. He was
going to save her from losing the company she had worked so hard for. She almost
screamed with delight, and then she followed the rest of Patrick’s advice.
“In addition,” she said, “I want to be able to pay you back at any time, without a
penalty. And because I run a very high-end business with demanding, very elite clients,
some of whom have very important positions, I need a morals clause in the contract to
protect the business. I’m sure we’ll never have to implement it, but I can’t take the
chance.” There was silence for an agonizingly long moment, while he digested it, and
then his voice boomed into the phone.
“Done, you’ve got it, whatever you want, Eugenie. I’ll have my lawyers draw up the
papers. It’s Natasha’s birthday next week and I want to give her this as a surprise.
You’ve got yourself a new partner, and you’ll have the money in your account next
week. Consider this call my handshake on the deal. You won’t regret it. Natasha is a
great gal and she’s got great fashion sense. She’s taught me a lot about what women
want to wear.” Eugenia shuddered at the thought, but with Eugenia owning eighty
percent of her business, Natasha would have no influence and little chance to interfere.
And she was getting the impression that Natasha was more interested in taking her
clothes off than putting them on. She almost felt sorry for Austin Wylie and his naïveté
about his wife.
She called Patrick as soon as she hung up with Austin.
“We did it! You did it!” she chortled into the phone. “We got exactly what we
wanted. He called me four times and I finally picked up. I followed your template to the
letter. He got twenty percent of the business, and I get twenty million dollars, which is
exactly what I need to get off the rocks and get afloat again.”
“Well done!” Patrick congratulated her and took no credit for the result. He was a
very modest man and happy to help her. She needed it, and it had been easy for him to
advise her. “Did you tell him about the no-penalty payback and the morals clause?”
“Of course. He hesitated for a fraction of a second on the last one, and then he said
whatever I want and it was done. I’ll have the papers and the money by next week.”
“Make sure your lawyer looks at them closely. I still don’t trust him.”
“Hopefully, I’ll be able to pay him back soon. I’m so relieved, Patrick.”
“So am I, for you. You’ll see, things will turn around now, you can relax.”
“I was almost out of time.” Daphne had certainly given a lucky dinner party for her,
the investor she needed and a man she was crazy about for the first time in years. It was
a double-header.
“How did it go with Gloria last night? Did she calm down?”
“They left,” Eugenia said quietly. She had won with Austin Wylie, but not with her
daughter. “I don’t know if it was Gloria’s idea or Geoff’s, but they walked in on us
during dinner, with their backpacks on, basically told us all to go to hell, and said ‘See
ya at the wedding,’ no thank-you, no goodbye. Sometimes one’s children can be so
disappointing. And the worst thing is she’s going to pay the price for it if she marries
him. I’m not. And she’s determined to do it. It’s them against the world.”
“It’s her decision,” he said gently. “You did everything you could. You can pull the
plug on the wedding, but she’d probably marry him anyway. You can’t stop someone
when they’re as determined as you say she is. You just have to grit your teeth and get
through it.”
“We will.”
“See you tonight, and congratulations again on the Wylie deal. I don’t like the guy,
but you need the money, and he showed up at the right time. And you’ll be protected
with the conditions you asked for,” thanks to him.
“He sure did. See you tonight,” she confirmed.
Patrick arrived punctually at the house in his blazer and jeans, and with four bottles
of fancy French wine. The chef was grilling steaks on the barbecue, and Patrick had
brought Château Margaux. They opened it immediately to let it breathe, while they drank
martinis on the porch. They were all happy to see him, and Phillip was pleased to see
that his friend and his mother-in-law got along so well. He had noticed it on the boat
too. He could tell that there was a warm connection between them, and he was happy
for them both. Phillip was very fond of his mother-in-law.
Daphne had come to dinner and was being a good sport, but Eugenia could see that
she was more and more uncomfortable. The twins were weighing on her heavily, and
she couldn’t wait to have it over with. The end was hard. There was no position where
she was comfortable anymore.
“I feel like I’ve been possessed by aliens,” she said to Sofia at dinner, and she
laughed.
“You have. It won’t be long now. If you sneeze, they’ll fall out.”
“I wish,” Daphne said, anxious about the delivery ahead of her.
No one mentioned Geoff and Gloria at dinner, but Eugenia was upset by the way
they’d left the night before. It was such a cowardly way to deal with it, to just run away,
and all Gloria cared about was her wedding, not who she was marrying, and they all
agreed he wasn’t a good guy. Gloria was totally under his influence, and believed
everything he said. Eugenia was sure that he was lying about Natasha and had more than
willingly slept with her. No one had had to twist his arm. And she didn’t believe for a
minute that she had held him hostage.
When the others went to bed, Patrick stayed for a little while to talk to Eugenia.
They sat in the porch swing, swaying gently back and forth, and he kissed her in the
moonlight, with the crickets chirping and the fireflies dancing, and a falling star
overhead. It wasn’t as romantic as being on his yacht, but it was warm and comfortable,
and he had enjoyed talking to her children. He wanted to introduce her to his son, but
Quinn was on a ranch in Montana where he went every year, riding and fishing with a
group of friends. “He’s not a sailor like his father, he’s a mountain man,” Patrick said,
and kissed her again. “I’m sorry I can’t have you on the boat tomorrow for your last day.
I’m hoping to sell two of my buildings and the buyer is coming to discuss the deal with
me. He’s flying back to L.A. tomorrow night, so I can’t put him off.”
“I don’t expect you to,” she said with her head on his shoulder, enjoying the moment.
“You’ve already been wonderful to us. And you helped me make that deal today. We’ll
be fine here. The house worked out well for us. These vacations always go so quickly.
Normally, we wouldn’t all be together again until Christmas, but this time we have the
wedding in a few weeks. And I have a feeling it’s going to be a mess. I’ve only met
Geoff’s parents once and they’re as pompous as he is, possibly worse. I’m not a big fan
of threadbare aristocracy, they have a lot more to prove. We’re not off to a great start,”
she said, and then looked at him. “Will you come to the wedding?”
“Do you want me there?”
“Weddings are usually a terrible bore if you don’t know the people, but I suspect
there will be fireworks at this one, so it will be more interesting,” she said, and he
laughed.
“I’m happy to be there to support you,” he said.
“I’ll send you an invitation. I’d love you to come as my date.”
“I’d be honored,” he said, and pulled her a little closer on the swing. “Let’s have
dinner in the city this week.”
“I’d love it,” she said. They kissed for a while, enjoying the end of the evening
together, and then he left.
On Saturday, the last day of their vacation, the family spent their time together at
their rented house and then had dinner at Daphne and Phillip’s. This time no one
mentioned Geoff and Gloria. She hadn’t texted her mother when they arrived nor
thanked her for the trip or the extra expense for the switched tickets in order to leave
three days early. Eugenia enjoyed the others for the last day, and they had a lovely
dinner at Daphne’s house and then went back to their own. They laughed and talked late
into the evening and drank a lot of wine, and after Eugenia went to bed the others went
for a midnight swim. They all agreed that it had been a great vacation and they were
sorry to see it end. Their day on Patrick’s boat had been an added adventure, and they
were curious to see what would happen between Patrick and their mother. It looked like
something was starting, but they were discreet enough that no one was sure if it was
romantic or if they were just becoming friends, but they seemed to enjoy each other’s
company.
“Maybe your mother will marry him and we can all go on vacation on his boat next
year,” Liz suggested, and Stef gave her a look.
“Slow down, they haven’t been on a date yet. They met a week ago.” They didn’t
know about the day Eugenia and Patrick had spent in seclusion on his boat.
“He’s a cool guy and I like his boat,” Liz said simply, and Stef shook his head.
Eloise was nervous about going back to Paris, perennially worried about her job, and
they were all going back to work on Monday. It was always hard to go back to real life
after the vacations Eugenia provided them, where she took care of everything. It was all
planned to perfection and she spoiled them like the children they had been and no longer
were. Only Gloria was still trying to cash in on everything she could, like her wedding,
with total disregard for the massive expense for her mother. It annoyed Stef and Eloise,
but Sofia assumed that their mother knew what she was doing and could afford the
vacation if she did it every year. It never occurred to her that the pandemic had
impacted her mother’s business. Sofia had no experience in business and financial
affairs.
“I think that the investor’s money she accepted yesterday is a big deal for her,”
Stefano said, sitting by the pool with his sisters at one in the morning. “She doesn’t say
a lot about it, but I think she’s been really worried for the last six months. I hope that
helps.” He was concerned about her.
“Your mother is a smart businesswoman, she knows what she’s doing,” Liz said with
total confidence.
They hated to see the night end, and their vacation, always a bittersweet moment, but
this time they knew they’d be together again soon, at the wedding. Eugenia had made a
point of inviting Brad and had handed him an invitation, which touched both him and
Sofia, and he had promised to be there.
They were all packed when they went to bed that night at two .., and Eugenia’s
bags were standing in the hall outside her suite.
She set her alarm and got up with each of them when they left. Eloise was the first to
go. With a ten .. flight to Paris out of Newark, she had to leave the Hamptons at five
in the morning, and Eugenia gave her a big hug.
“Try to relax and stop worrying,” she reminded her daughter. She stood on the porch
and waved as the car drove away. Brad and Sofia were next, with a flight to Memphis
at eleven. They left at seven, and Eugenia had breakfast with Stef and Liz before they
drove back to the city. He said he thought it was one of their best vacations ever and
Eugenia was pleased. She had worked hard to achieve it.
She checked the houses after they left, closed and locked everything up and left the
keys where she’d found them, and drove to Daphne and Phillip’s house to say goodbye.
Daphne promised to call her if anything happened with the twins. She and Phillip were
driving back to the city that night. They’d already stayed a week longer than the
obstetrician wanted, just in case she went into labor and things moved quickly. Eugenia
doubted she’d make it till the wedding, it looked like she was going to pop any minute,
and Phillip was eager to get her home. Eugenia thanked them for the times they had
entertained all of them, and they stood in the driveway and waved as Eugenia drove
away.
—
It was strange getting back to her empty apartment. It seemed so quiet and lonely now
that the children were gone. Eugenia was used to it, but their vacations always reminded
her of how much she loved being with them, and how sweet it had been when they were
all still at home. It was an adjustment being on her own again with no one to talk to.
After she unpacked, she took out the folder with her drawings and Eloise’s, and did
some more sketches for Cotton Candy. She smiled every time she looked at them. They
were going to be so much fun to produce and she couldn’t wait to see how they’d sell,
and to whom.
Patrick called her that night to make sure she got home safely. She asked him how his
meeting had gone the day before.
“Pretty well,” he said, sounding pleased. “I wanted to sell him two buildings but he
might buy three or even four. That would give me what I need to make some major
changes on the ones I have left. It’s all a chess game, with a little bit of poker thrown in.
I might come out ahead in the end. It’s not over yet,” he said. “How about Tuesday for
dinner? I have a lot going on tomorrow.”
“So do I.” She wanted to speak to the factory again about Cotton Candy, go to the
wholesale market for the right fabrics, and rehire one of her patternmakers and two
sewers to work on the new line. This was a whole new world for her, and for a
completely different client. She was already set for her show during Fashion Week. All
she had to do was hire models and do fittings, starting in two weeks. The runway
samples were already made. She was showing a very reduced line to test the market for
her daywear. She was making big changes to salvage her business, and she was praying
it would work. And now she was going to have fun with Cotton Candy, put the clothes in
a pop-up store she hadn’t chosen yet, and see what would happen. “It’s crazy that we’re
both rebuilding our businesses, isn’t it?” she said to Patrick on the phone.
“That’s what life is all about, reinventing yourself when everything goes to shit. And
if it all fails, we sell everything. I’ll keep the boat, and sail around the world.” He made
light of it. She loved his strength and his humor, his determination and optimism, and his
perseverance. He gave her the feeling that he wouldn’t let the ship go down. He hadn’t
yet, and neither had she. They had that in common, although her business was so much
smaller than his, but it wasn’t negligible either, and he had given her valuable advice.
“Tuesday would be great for dinner,” she responded to his invitation. When they
hung up, she went back to her Cotton Candy sketches, and started making lists of
everything she needed to do. She still had her assistant in New York, Pamela Atkins, but
Pamela had been on vacation for a month with nothing to do until the weeks right before
Fashion Week. Eugenia had reduced the staff dramatically in the last year as their
business slowed down to a trickle, and finally dried up entirely. She was hoping to hire
many of them back when they got started again, but for the moment, she couldn’t afford
them, and had no work to offer them. Most of her employees had been on unemployment.
She tried to pick and choose among them, and decide who would be best suited to
working on an inexpensive youthful line. But she wanted to do it with quality too. All
the people in her atelier, which was dormant now, had been trained in Paris and were
overqualified for what she had in mind.
She explained it all to Pamela on Monday morning. Eugenia knew she was an early
riser and went to the gym every day, so she called her at seven. Pamela was thrilled to
hear about the new project. It had been incredibly sad, watching the business stall in the
last eight months, and it had taken a toll on Eugenia’s spirits. She’d been anxious and
nervous for a long time, and there had been nothing Pam could do to help. Their
customers just weren’t buying, with everyone locked down. They were going to put on a
beautiful show for Fashion Week, but the new daywear was an experiment and by no
means a sure thing. It was expensive, made with the best high-quality fabrics available,
although getting the fabrics and trimmings in from Europe wasn’t easy, and Pam wasn’t
sure their clients would adjust to the change.
But Cotton Candy was a concept she could wrap her mind around. She had a
fourteen-year-old daughter herself, and it sounded right up her alley, at the right price
point for even Pam to afford. She was forty-four and a single mom. She had decided to
have a baby on her own at thirty, and hadn’t regretted it, although she was finding the
early teenage years harder than she’d expected. She and her daughter, Isabelle, had been
so close, and now Isabelle disapproved of everything her mother did, and was vocal
about it. But Pam knew she was going to love Eugenia’s new line.
“This is a whole new market for us,” Pam said, excited. “How did you come up with
it?” She wondered if Eugenia had been seeking advice from consultants. The new line
didn’t sound like her at all and it was hard to imagine her doing it, or even coming up
with the concept.
“Sofia wore one of her crazy outfits. Distressed denim overalls, with a pink tulle
skirt and sequin heart appliques. After Eloise stopped complaining about it, she got
inspired, and the next thing I knew she handed me a folder full of sketches, and I knew it
was the right way to go.” It was one of the things Pam loved about Eugenia, how open
she was to new ideas, always reaching and stretching. The new high-end daywear line
was the evidence of it, and it was beautiful. But this was a leap of faith off the high
diving board, and a real tour de force, with a great chance to be a commercial success.
It was a brilliant idea and just what they needed to expand.
“Where are we going to sell it? Department stores?” It was better suited to that
market, but they needed orders to do it for next season, and Eugenia wanted to move a
lot faster than that to test the market.
“Eventually, but that would be for next spring. We can take orders at the Seventh
Avenue showroom and do some kind of presentation during Fashion Week if I can get
the pieces made fast enough. I want to get it out there quickly. I’m thinking of a pop-up,
maybe in SoHo, or maybe we just turn the Madison Avenue store around for a couple of
weeks, and see how we do uptown. Or we could do both. We don’t have anything new
in the store right now anyway.” They had made one sale on Madison in the last month,
which was disastrous, and she had practically given a gown away on sale to a good
customer.
“This is going to be so new and fresh,” Pam said. She had a teenager’s body herself
and looked young for her age, and she and her daughter often traded clothes when she
wasn’t working. She could easily see herself and Izzie in matching outfits from what
Eugenia was describing. Pam was gutsy enough to wear it, even at forty-four. She loved
variety and fun clothes.
“I’m calling the factory this morning, and I want to look at fabrics this afternoon. No
high-priced denim, maybe we put together some one-of-a-kind combined vintage pieces,
but mostly I want to make items we can mass-produce in bulk, so we make some real
profit with it. Do you want to help me pick fabrics this afternoon?” she asked her, and
Pam jumped at it, but she had no one to leave her daughter with. Izzie was off for
another two weeks, until she started school.
“Can I bring Izzie?” Eugenia thought about it, and then realized it was a great idea.
“Definitely, she can be our market advisor. That’s perfect.”
“I warn you everything she picks will be pink or purple.”
“That’s exactly what we want, and a lot of sparkle, ruffles, and bows. Girly. Nearly
kitsch, but not quite. We can catch the wave on that, there’s a big market out there we’ve
never explored.”
Pam smiled. “I don’t think your couture clients are ready for that.”
“My couture clients are hibernating, but don’t kid yourself, they’re buying mass
market items online. I want their daughters and granddaughters now, and Izzie can point
us in the right direction on that.”
“And Sofia. It sounds like she is the inspiration for the whole line.”
“Exactly.” They made a date to meet after lunch at a huge wholesale fabric market at
the lower end of the garment district. Eugenia had never been there but she knew where
it was. Eventually they could buy in volume, but she wanted to see what their
bestsellers were first.
They met that afternoon and Pam’s daughter was the poster child for who Eugenia
wanted their youngest clients to be, with a little more sophistication for customers in
their twenties. It was a hot day in New York and Izzie had on pink denim shorts and a
crop top with sparkly hearts on it. She had on the latest trendy sneakers, which looked
used and cost eight hundred dollars, which Eugenia thought sinful for a child her age but
Pam said she had to have them to keep up with her friends. Izzie was carrying a sparkly
heart-shaped purse and had braces on her teeth, and long straight blond hair like her
mother’s. Pam was wearing white shorts and a pink T-shirt with a silver heart, pink
Manolo flats, and a white Chanel bag she’d bought secondhand. It was a modified
youthful look suitable for her age.
“Okay, Izzie, tell us what you love,” Eugenia told her. They looked at bolts and bolts
of fabric, at least half of it pink, some lavender, pale blue, a little white, lots of
metallics, fabrics with silver threads, a great red. Every fabric they picked popped, and
Izzie had a great eye for color and for what her peers would love. Eugenia was
fascinated by some of her choices, and trusted her advice. They picked some great
patterns and stripes. They bought the fabric on the spot, got a good deal on it, and took it
to the store in three cabs, with Izzie in one. She was having a ball. They put it all in the
haute couture fitting rooms, which were big enough to use as temporary stockrooms.
Their patternmaker was coming in the next day, delighted to have work again. The
designs were going to be simple at first, with variations on the theme. This collection
wasn’t about chic, it was about young and fun, and Eugenia wanted the fit to be right.
She wanted to play with some of the fabrics and see how they draped and held up. They
had work to do, and the factory had promised that if she got the fabric and the patterns to
them by the end of the week, they could produce a modest first run very quickly. Eugenia
was moving fast with Pam’s help. Pam was used to multitasking, and following her boss
at full speed. It had been a very productive day, and Eugenia thanked Izzie for her help,
and asked Pam to get her a pair of her most coveted trendy sneakers to thank her. Izzie
was thrilled and said she knew just the ones she wanted.
“What are we doing about a pop-up?” Pam asked her before she left, and Eugenia
looked pensive.
“I have a crazy idea. I want to empty the store and fill it with the Cotton Candy line
for a couple of weeks.” Pam wasn’t sure about the store, but they weren’t selling any
gowns at the moment. As long as it was temporary, she approved.
Eugenia had another idea too. The next day, she searched the internet and found a
company in the Bronx that rented carnival and vending machines. They had a great
vintage-looking cotton candy machine and she rented it and hired the operator to go with
it, to make cotton candy and hand it out on Madison Avenue for two weeks. She
assigned Pam to get the permit, which the vendor said was easy. It was all falling into
place. The fabric hadn’t been expensive, and the factory was giving her a good deal, as
they wanted her business if she went into mass production with it. The factory owner
was desperate, and people were grateful now to have a job and get work.
By the time Patrick picked Eugenia up at her apartment for dinner, she had been
working on the project for two days, and the patternmaker and an assistant were busy in
her couture atelier. Austin Wylie had emailed her the contract and she’d sent it to her
attorney to check.
She told Patrick all about it, as she poured him a glass of wine and he admired the
view from her apartment. It was modern and airy, the décor mostly white with colorful
contemporary art. She had some of the same artists he did on the boat, although his
collection was more impressive, but he liked what she had too. He sat down with a
smile, admiring her. She was wearing a pink silk summer dress and high heels. He had
come from the office, and wore a light beige cotton summer suit with a blue shirt. He
had showered at the office, and was freshly shaved for their date. She loved his looks
with his thick salt-and-pepper hair.
“You didn’t waste any time,” he said, impressed by what she told him. The Cotton
Candy project, and the influx of money from Austin Wylie, which gave her some
security, had energized her.
“It’s a long way from what I usually do, but I’m loving it. My assistant’s fourteenyear-old
daughter was my market consultant on the fabrics. If you’d told me two years
ago I’d be designing for fourteen-year-olds, I’d have laughed at you.”
“You may wind up with an even bigger success than you had before. Volume is a big
deal with the internet now. Fashion was a huge moneymaker before the pandemic, and it
will be again.”
“We’ll see where it goes,” she said, open to anything, which she hadn’t been before.
She’d had very definite ideas about how far she would go and what real fashion was,
not unlike Eloise, but not quite as rigid. “How were your meetings?” she asked him.
“Encouraging,” he said. “It’s interesting how people react when you hit a rough spot.
There used to be people calling day and night, begging to talk to me. The minute they
smell trouble, they run like hell, and it’s surprising who won’t take your calls. I’m
getting used to it, but it startled me. It’s shortsighted of them. The tables turn fast in
business, especially at this level. I found it humiliating at first. Now, after a year, I don’t
care. The minute it hit Page Six that I had seventeen empty buildings, the dogcatcher
didn’t want to know me, but now the brave ones are coming back, and they figure I may
have some winning cards up my sleeve. I hope they’re right.” Eugenia was touched by
how open Patrick was about his fall from grace and how painful it had been. She had
experienced the same thing in the world of fashion. People weren’t as nice to her or as
respectful as they had been before, and it hurt her feelings too. Like him, she had gotten
used to it, but she noticed, and she would remember.
She had just decided not to show at the next haute couture show in Paris in January,
to skip a season and show again in July, to give the haute couture market time to
recover. She thought it would be the last to come back to normal, and didn’t want to
show to an empty hall, which would be expensive and embarrassing. With her Eugenia
Ward brand, she was going to focus on high-end ready-to-wear for the next year, and
Cotton Candy at the low end, if it looked promising. She was about to find out.
He took her to Elio’s on Second Avenue, which was doing a booming business with
a sidewalk terrace. It wasn’t romantic, but it was fun and noisy and crowded, and they
both loved it. The food was good and it was easy, and they walked back slowly to her
apartment, which was a long enough walk for them to continue their conversation. He
had a town house on Seventieth Street, not far from her. As they approached her
building, he stopped and kissed her and asked the question he had wanted to ask her all
night, and hoped it wasn’t too soon. He wanted to spend time with her, and they were
both busy in the city, and worked late. He never left his office early, in good times or
bad. Particularly now that he was networking to find buyers for some of his buildings.
“I’d love you to come to the boat this weekend,” he said cautiously. “Maybe it’s too
soon to ask, and you can have one of the guest staterooms if you like. It’s the only place
I really disconnect from real life and all the problems, and you seem to love it as much
as I do.”
“Who wouldn’t?” she said with a smile, thinking about the invitation. The offer of
the guest stateroom didn’t make it seem shocking or premature. By normal standards, it
was early in the relationship to go away with him for a weekend, but she loved the idea
too, and he wasn’t forcing her to sleep with him. He wanted to share his world with her,
and he had been a perfect gentleman with her so far, and nothing but kind on the day
she’d spent on the boat with him.
“I’d love it,” she responded to his invitation, and he kissed her again.
“I promise to behave myself,” he said earnestly, and she believed him. She had no
reason not to, and it sounded like a fabulous weekend. She could hardly wait, and again
she had no intention of telling her kids. Her private adult life was her business and not
theirs. She had met the first man she’d been attracted to and really liked in a long time,
and he seemed to like her. Where it would go no one could predict. They were both
struggling with overwhelmingly complicated business situations and had almost lost
everything they’d built. It was a common bond between them, and he was helping her
with good advice and she was grateful for it. They were working twice as hard now to
salvage what they could. And at their ages, she didn’t feel she owed her children any
explanations. She walked into her apartment thinking about him. Having met Patrick
seemed like a gift, and spending the weekend on his yacht, nothing short of a miracle.
Maybe the tides were finally turning. She enjoyed his company more than she’d
expected to. She trusted him, and was willing to take a risk
