Little did he think, when he’d dreamed of moving to London, that he’d end up on Wall Street, with a mistress – his second – to boot. His parents would have been disgusted with him, Des thought ruefully. But his marriage had grown stale in the last few years. Colette was so engrossed in the demands on her time as a result of their high-powered lifestyle she didn’t give a lot of time to him! It was so refreshing, so energizing and affirming to be with a woman who found him sexy and responded with passion to his advances. With Colette he sometimes felt she was going through the motions. And she never made the first move. She’d married him on the rebound from some rugby-playing medic. He’d known that and it had made her somewhat bitter towards men. Conquering that latent hostility had been challenging. It excited him and spurred him on in his wooing and he had felt he’d succeeded. The early years of their marriage in London had been good. They’d been a formidable team with a common goal, and they’d flourished, and how? But at what cost? Des thought dispiritedly. Colette would have liked another child. She’d hated being an only child and wanted a sibling for Jazzy, but after years of trying they’d gone for tests and discovered that the fault lay with him. He had a low sperm count. They had been lucky to conceive Jasmine. Once she knew the score Colette had been pragmatic and he’d felt secretly relieved on one level that she didn’t have to endure pregnancy and childbirth again. It was a blow to his ego, though. He’d felt a failure and coming on top of the onset of middle age when he’d seen younger, more qualified, hotter guys powering up the scale, it had made Des begin to realize that he had more good years behind him than before him and life was for living. He had taken the opportunity to hook up with Kaylee when it came his way. His relationship with her was different from the one he’d had with Skylar, who, he wasn’t proud to admit, he had used purely for sex. Kaylee reminded him in ways of a younger Colette. Vibrant, intelligent, sexy but much more laid-back and easy to be with.
He had thought Kaylee was cool with their situation, even though she had mentioned once or twice that she thought it would be nice if they could be together all the time. That was never going to happen. Colette and he had a lifestyle that they had slogged for, and a place on the social register that had been hard won. A divorce would cost a hell of a lot. Colette and old man O’Mahony would take him to the cleaner’s. It was too high a price to pay.
What was it with women? Even the most independent of them, the most ardent feminists, the most ambitious in their careers – like Kaylee – they all wanted the ring on their finger, no matter what. Even his own daughter Jazzy wanted to be married and not ‘left on the shelf’, she told him once. Nothing had changed for women in that regard despite their so called liberation, he’d thought, surprised, remembering how livid Kaylee had become when he’d suggested easing back on their relationship. For him the relationship had been a respite from real life, but for Kaylee, although he hadn’t realized it, it had been a means to an end. Marriage!
The financial crises that had come crashing down around him had been the catalyst for this calamity. Kaylee’s studio was an expense he couldn’t sustain after taking the Madoff hit. He’d hoped she’d understand, hoped she’d offer to pay the rent herself, but she had been so mad with him that he wouldn’t divorce Colette and move in with her that she’d gone off on one when they were lying together after sex, and that was when the pain had hit.
He’d actually thought he was croaking it, Des remembered, shivering at the memory. Perhaps he’d have been better off if he had kicked the bucket. He was gutted that Kaylee had phoned Colette. She could have let the hospital phone his wife instead of doing it herself and dropping him in it. That was very low. He’d been ultra careful never to give Colette any inkling that he was seeing someone. He never socialized with Kaylee above Canal Street, never invited her to anything at work, and she’d accepted this. And because she had, Des had thought she was OK with it. Big mistake. Her clock was ticking and she wanted to be married, she’d shrieked at him last night. He’d never seen her so crazy and irrational. But if his mistress had flipped big time it was nothing to how Colette would react when she found out that he’d lost a mint with Madoff, as well as been having an affair. There was going to be hell to pay and more! He closed his eyes, and opened them again. What would Colette tell Jazzy? He’d have to face his daughter’s wrath too.
A technician in a white coat knocked and came into the room. ‘I need to take some blood, Mr Williams,’ she said chirpily. She tightened the tourniquet around his arm and placed a pillow under it.
