Fairytales by Cynthia Freeman Page B

hell, he had nothing else to do. So, without another thought, he went into the small washroom, shaved with his electric razor, applied after-shave lotion, combed his thick auburn hair, changed into a clean shirt (which he always kept a number of in the office), then quickly left. Once out in the street, he felt slightly better at least. On the way toward Montgomery Street, he thought maybe he would have Dom come home from summer school so they could be together, but just as quickly, he dismissed the thought as being selfish. Besides, what would happen when he had to be away on business. It would mean Dom would be alone during the day if he were to take him along. He’d just have to accept things as they were and God only knew how long Catherine would be away, or more to the point, what her final intentions were. Maybe she would decide on a permanent separation and stay in New Orleans, knowing how much she missed her own people. She had always thought of that as home. Okay, Dominic, that’s enough, trying to second-guess life. Just go have a few drinks and get a little high … or better still, even plastered. He entered the building and got into the elevator, where he pressed the button to the penthouse. When the doors opened, it seemed to him that the immediate world was present. He heard his name being called above the sounds of voices and laughter, “Dominic, come over here,” Lawrence Henricks called out as he held a glass of champagne in his hand. Dominic weaved through the crowd. When he approached, Henricks said, “I’m glad to see you, Dom … thought you were busy tonight.”
    “I … was, but my conference ended much earlier than I expected.”
    “Glad you could make it … here, let me see if I can get you a drink … scotch, bourbon, champagne?”
    “Bourbon on the rocks, please.”
    “Good enough.” With that, he was away.
    Soon Dominic found a glass in his hand, served by a Negro waiter. As he started to walk toward the windows, he was stopped by a dozen different people, exchanged a few brief hellos, glad to see you, what’s new … fine, fine … fine … thanks … thanks. He smiled his best smile, but inside he had never felt more alone in his life. Finally, he stood staring out at the panoramic view. Fleetingly, he thought, this building wasn’t here when I was a kid growing up in North Beach, imagine, how the city had changed … just about as much as my life has changed, Dominic thought, but he was brought up sharply. “Enjoying the view, Mr. Rossi?” He turned around and saw Victoria Lang, beautiful as ever … her hair was soft blonde, streaked with golden highlights, worn simply. Her figure, slim with just enough fullness above to make it exquisitely feminine, as indeed she was. The white raw silk suit embellished the fine creamy texture of her suntanned face and her eyes were amber, the color of warm brandy. She was thirty-five and divorced six years, which to all outward appearances, seemed to have left no scars. She was a junior partner of the firm, having won her priorities the hard way, in spite of the fact her father was Lawrence J. Henricks, a name she no longer carried and which, in a sense, pleased her since she no longer felt the need to trade on her father’s reputation. Dominic looked at her standing against the background of the city lights that sparkled as she did, and for the first time, he realized how truly exquisite Victoria Lang was. There was a gentility about her … an inbred poise that came from the genes of distinction, but she was also a phenomenon of beauty and brains. She had graduated from Vassar and Stanford, had cut her eyeteeth on the law and could pit her brain against any man while remaining a woman.
    “Yes, I am enjoying the view … it’s really magnificent,” he said, not able to take his eyes from her.
    “I wasn’t sure, you seemed so … well, so lonely, standing here … here, let me refill your glass. What are you drinking?”
    “Bourbon on