Meredith, his first mistress, was almost an exact replica of Allwater’s wife: old money and new breasts. His second mistress was a midlife crisis cliché—early twenties, tight clothes and big earrings. She had an expensive beauty that would grow more costly as she aged, because she likely wouldn’t age well. She was reckless with her skin care and smoked and drank as if they were a dietary requirement. But she was young enough to keep the consequences of her behavior at bay, for at least a decade.
Meredith was no less expensive, just better at maintaining herself. Good breeding and care had given her an advantage, but while Meredith was more sophisticated, Elissa was more clever than she looked. Allwater usually kept them separate. The fact that they were both here meant that something had gone terribly wrong.
Meredith flicked back a strand of blond hair, her hand trembling with anger. “I was with him first and have known him a lot longer than you.”
Elissa’s full, pouty mouth spread into a cold smile. “Honey, every man eventually likes to get a younger model.”
“New toys always get replaced.”
Elissa’s smile fell and she picked up a glass statue of two swans in the shape of a heart.
Nikki had had enough. “Put that down,” she said. She saw Elissa’s mouth kick up in a quick malicious grin. “Drop it and I’ll throw a punch that will have you flying through that window.”
Elissa blinked, surprised by Nikki’s violent threat, and slowly set the statue down when she realized from Nikki’s stance that she wasn’t bluffing. “Who are you?”
“The owner of this place,” Abby said, disgusted by the woman’s ignorance.
“Oh, the decorator.”
“The designer,” Nikki corrected.
“She wouldn’t know the difference,” Meredith said with disdain.
Elissa narrowed her eyes. “I know the difference between a cow and a heifer.”
“Sure you do, dear. They were your parents,” Meredith returned.
Nikki spoke up before Elissa lunged at Meredith. “Now, let’s be civil.” She stepped forward and winced at the sound of crunching glass beneath her feet. “I think we can come up with a compromise. There’s enough room to accommodate both of you. I will create two entirely separate apartments—each with its own entrance—and will design your own special space to reflect you intimately, a space that will keep your favorite playboy entertained for life.” She knew she’d hit on the perfect solution when Meredith began asking for a gazillion mirrors and chandeliers, while Elissa requested items for a “naughty” lair to call her own. She recorded their requests and made two separate appointments for further discussion. “Consider it done. I’ll let Angelo know that I’ll be making some changes,” she said, using Allwater’s code name.
After the two women left, Nikki collapsed into her chair.
“I’m so sorry,” Abby said, glancing around the room. “They just showed up and then—”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
Her phone rang and Abby answered. She put it on hold and turned to Nikki. “It’s Benjamin.”
Nikki groaned. Benjamin Leano was a bad habit she needed to break. She thought of coming up with an excuse not to talk to him, then sighed and held out her hand. Abby gave her the phone, then left the room.
“You’re in town?” she said, trying not to sound bored.
“Yes,” he said, surprised. “How did you know?”
It wasn’t a hard deduction. He called her only when he was in town. He was a photojournalist who traveled the world but managed to remember her whenever he was in New York. Two years ago it had seemed like a great arrangement, but now it was wearing thin. “Just a guess.”
“What’s wrong? You sound distracted.”
She looked around her office at the broken vases, the glass, the crooked picture and the tilted plant. She briefly shut her eyes, feeling the slight pounding of an oncoming headache. “Client issues.”
“Poor baby. Let me take you out.”
“That sounds good, but I’m busy.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t working.”
“I’ll wait if you need to switch phones.”
“Not the lines, us.”
He paused. “You want something more? Marriage? Fine. I’ll marry you.”
Nikki laughed at his flippant attitude. “No, I don’t want to marry you.”
“Why not?”
“Benjamin, you don’t want to get married.”
“That’s not the point. Why wouldn’t you want to marry me? I’m a great catch.”
“Yes, for someone else.”
“Are you interested in someone else? Are you seeing another man?”
“No, it’s not that.” She was just bored. Everything about her life had become routine. The wealthy clients and their tirades, the social events. There were no happy surprises or new discoveries. “I just need a break.”
“We don’t have to go to—”
“Sorry. I have another call I have to take. I’ll call you later.” She hung up before he could argue.
Abby came into the room, looking composed again. She straightened the tilted plant. “I’ve called housekeeping.”
“Thank you.”
“Is Benjamin stopping by?”
“No, never again.”
“Good.”
Nikki looked at her, shocked. “What do you mean?”
“You deserve better. When are you going to start designing your own home?”
“I’ve already designed my place.”
Abby shook her head. “No, not a place. A home—with a fully furnished kitchen and a big family room.”
“And a picket fence and lawn?” Nikki shook her head and laughed. “You’re talking to the wrong sister. That’s not me.”
“Everyone deserves their own space, where they feel complete.”
“Right.”
She knew that better than most. That was why she’d become a designer. She knew what a room could do, how it could make a person feel. But she didn’t need a home of her own. She really liked her apartment and the friends and parties she hosted there. She was just restless. She only wished she knew what to do. She was young, attractive, with a good job and nothing really to complain about, yet she felt like running away.
Nikki stood. “What I need is a challenge. Something big and a little scary. Something to test my skills. Unpredictable.” She looked around her destroyed office and groaned. She obviously wouldn’t find it here. She needed the outdoors; she thought better there. “I’m going to go for a walk.” She grabbed her bag and sunglasses.
Nikki walked several blocks, but the restless feeling still followed. She crossed over to go into Central Park. Then her phone rang. “Yes?” she said as she saw a driver give another the finger and a young child drop his ice cream on the pavement and burst into tears.
“It’s Monica. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” She stepped around a pile of dog poop someone had neglected to pick up. “What’s up?”
“It’s Lucian.”