for her had just begun. It wasn't a fight that Alex Hale was willing to lose.
Chapter 7
At five minutes to eleven in the evening, after a brisk walk up Madison Avenue, Alex Hale turned right on 76th Street and walked into the Carlyle.
He had reserved a table for them in the Caf+! Carlyle, with every intention of chatting with Raphaella for an hour and then enjoying Bobby Short's midnight show. He was one of the greater gifts of New York, and sharing him with Raphaella was a treat Alex had looked forward to all night. He checked his coat at the door and wove his way to the designated table, and then sat there for ten minutes, waiting for her to arrive. At eleven fifteen he began to worry, and at eleven thirty he wondered if he should call her room. But he realized that was impossible. Especially now that he knew about her husband. He realized that he had to wait for her quietly without creating a stir.
At twenty minutes before twelve he saw her staring through the glass door and looking as though she were poised to run. He tried to catch her eye but she didn't see him, and then, after a moment of scanning the room, she disappeared. Almost without thinking, Alex rose from the table and hurried to the door and out into the lobby in time to see her escaping down the hall. Raphaella! he called out softly, and she turned, her eyes huge and frightened, her face very pale. She was wearing a beautiful ivory satin evening dress that fell straight from her shoulders to its black-bordered hem at her feet. On her left shoulder she wore a huge elaborate pin with an enormous baroque pearl at its center, surrounded by onyx and diamonds, and she wore earrings to match. The effect was very striking, and Alex noticed once again how incredibly beautiful she was. She had stopped when he called her, and she stood very still now as he stood in front of her with a look of great seriousness in his eyes. Don't run away yet. Let's have a drink and talk. His voice was very gentle, and he wanted to reach out to her, but he didn't even dare to touch her hand.
I I shouldn't. I can't. I came to tell you that' I'm sorry it's so late' I
Raphaella, it's not even midnight. Couldn't we talk for just half an hour?
There are so many people' . She looked unhappy as they stood there, and suddenly he remembered the Bemelmans bar. He was sorry to miss out on Bobby Short with her, but it meant more to him to spend the time talking about what she had on her mind.
There's another bar here where we'll be able to talk more quietly. Come on. And without waiting for an answer, he tucked her hand into his arm, and led her back down the hallway to a bar across from the Caf+! Carlyle, and here they slipped onto a banquette behind a small table, and Alex looked at her with a slow, happy smile. What would you like to drink? Some wine? Some sherry? But she only shook her head in answer, and he saw that she was still very distressed. When the waiter had left them, he turned to her and spoke softly. Raphaella, is something wrong? She nodded slowly, first looking down at her hands, her perfect profile etched sharply in the darkened room as he watched her.
She looked up at him, her eyes seeking his, as though that alone caused her great pain. The look of sorrow on her face was the same that he had seen that first evening when he had found her crying on the steps. Why don't we talk about it?
She took a little breath and sat back against the banquette, still keeping her eyes locked in his. I should have spoken to you about it earlier, Alex. I have been she hesitated on the words and then went on very deceitful with you. I don't know what happened. I think I was carried away. You were so nice on the plane. Your mother was so charming. But I have been most unfair to you, my friend' . Her eyes were filled with sorrow and she gently touched his hand. I have given you the impression that I am free, I have been very wrong to do so. And I must apologize to you now. She looked at him
Chapter 7
At five minutes to eleven in the evening, after a brisk walk up Madison Avenue, Alex Hale turned right on 76th Street and walked into the Carlyle.
He had reserved a table for them in the Caf+! Carlyle, with every intention of chatting with Raphaella for an hour and then enjoying Bobby Short's midnight show. He was one of the greater gifts of New York, and sharing him with Raphaella was a treat Alex had looked forward to all night. He checked his coat at the door and wove his way to the designated table, and then sat there for ten minutes, waiting for her to arrive. At eleven fifteen he began to worry, and at eleven thirty he wondered if he should call her room. But he realized that was impossible. Especially now that he knew about her husband. He realized that he had to wait for her quietly without creating a stir.
At twenty minutes before twelve he saw her staring through the glass door and looking as though she were poised to run. He tried to catch her eye but she didn't see him, and then, after a moment of scanning the room, she disappeared. Almost without thinking, Alex rose from the table and hurried to the door and out into the lobby in time to see her escaping down the hall. Raphaella! he called out softly, and she turned, her eyes huge and frightened, her face very pale. She was wearing a beautiful ivory satin evening dress that fell straight from her shoulders to its black-bordered hem at her feet. On her left shoulder she wore a huge elaborate pin with an enormous baroque pearl at its center, surrounded by onyx and diamonds, and she wore earrings to match. The effect was very striking, and Alex noticed once again how incredibly beautiful she was. She had stopped when he called her, and she stood very still now as he stood in front of her with a look of great seriousness in his eyes. Don't run away yet. Let's have a drink and talk. His voice was very gentle, and he wanted to reach out to her, but he didn't even dare to touch her hand.
I I shouldn't. I can't. I came to tell you that' I'm sorry it's so late' I
Raphaella, it's not even midnight. Couldn't we talk for just half an hour?
There are so many people' . She looked unhappy as they stood there, and suddenly he remembered the Bemelmans bar. He was sorry to miss out on Bobby Short with her, but it meant more to him to spend the time talking about what she had on her mind.
There's another bar here where we'll be able to talk more quietly. Come on. And without waiting for an answer, he tucked her hand into his arm, and led her back down the hallway to a bar across from the Caf+! Carlyle, and here they slipped onto a banquette behind a small table, and Alex looked at her with a slow, happy smile. What would you like to drink? Some wine? Some sherry? But she only shook her head in answer, and he saw that she was still very distressed. When the waiter had left them, he turned to her and spoke softly. Raphaella, is something wrong? She nodded slowly, first looking down at her hands, her perfect profile etched sharply in the darkened room as he watched her.
She looked up at him, her eyes seeking his, as though that alone caused her great pain. The look of sorrow on her face was the same that he had seen that first evening when he had found her crying on the steps. Why don't we talk about it?
She took a little breath and sat back against the banquette, still keeping her eyes locked in his. I should have spoken to you about it earlier, Alex. I have been she hesitated on the words and then went on very deceitful with you. I don't know what happened. I think I was carried away. You were so nice on the plane. Your mother was so charming. But I have been most unfair to you, my friend' . Her eyes were filled with sorrow and she gently touched his hand. I have given you the impression that I am free, I have been very wrong to do so. And I must apologize to you now. She looked at him
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