Chapter Twenty-one

The following morning, a dozen red roses were delivered to Lara's apartment. So, he enjoyed the evening, too, Lara thought happily. She hurriedly tore open the card attached to the flowers. It read: "Baby, looking forward to our dinner tonight. Paul."

Lara felt a sharp sense of disappointment. She waited all morning for a call from Philip. She had a busy schedule, but she was unable to keep her mind on her work.

At two o'clock Kathy said, "The new secretaries are here for you to interview."

"Start sending them in."

There were half a dozen of them, all of them highly qualified. Gertrude Meeks was the choice of the day. She was in her thirties, bright and upbeat, and obviously in awe of Lara.

Lara looked over her resume. It was impressive. "You've worked in the real estate development field before."

"Yes, ma'am. But I've never worked for anyone like you. To tell you the truth, I'd take this job for no salary!"

Lara smiled. "That won't be necessary. These are good references. All right, we'll give you a try."

"Thank you so much." She was almost blushing.

"You'll have to sign a form agreeing not to give any interviews or ever to discuss anything that happens at this firm. Is that agreeable?"

"Of course."

"Kathy will show you to your desk."

There was an eleven o'clock publicity meeting with Jerry Townsend.

"How's your father?" Lara asked.

"He's in Switzerland. The doctor says he may have a chance." His voice grew husky. "If he has, it's because of you."

"Everyone deserves a chance, Jerry. I hope he gets well."

"Thanks." He cleared his throat. "I...I don't know how to tell you how grateful I..."

Lara stood up. "I'm late for a meeting."

And she walked out, leaving him standing there, looking after her.

The meeting was with the architects on a New Jersey development. "You've done a good job," Lara said, "but I'd like some changes. I want an elliptical arcade with lobbies on three sides and marble walls. Change the roof to the shape of a copper pyramid, with a beacon to light up at night. Any problem with that?"

"I don't see any, Miss Cameron."

When the meeting was over, the intercom buzzed.

"Miss Cameron, Raymond Duffy, one of the construction foremen, is on the line for you. He says it's urgent."

Lara picked up the telephone. "Hello, Raymond."

"We have a problem, Miss Cameron."

"Go on."

"They just delivered a load of cement blocks. They won't pass inspection. There are cracks in them. I'm going to send them back, but I wanted to tell you first."

Lara was thoughtful for a moment. "How bad is it?"

"Bad enough. The point is, they don't meet our specifications, and..."

"Can they be fixed?"

"I guess they could, but it would be expensive."

"Fix them," Lara said.

There was a silence at the other end of the line.

"Right. You're the boss."

Lara replaced the receiver. There were only two cement suppliers in the city, and it would be suicide to antagonize them.

By five o'clock Philip still had not called. Lara dialed the number at his foundation. "Philip Adler, please."

"Mr. Adler is out of town on tour. Can I help you?"

He hadn't mentioned that he was leaving town. "No, thank you."

That's that, Lara thought. For now.

The day ended with a visit from Steve Murchison. He was a huge man, built like a stack of bricks. He stormed into Lara's office.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Murchison?" Lara asked.

"You can keep your nose out of my fucking business," Murchison said.

Lara looked at him calmly. "What's your problem?"

"You. I don't like people horning in on my deals."

"If you're talking about Mr. Guttman..."

"You're damn right I am."

"...he preferred my building to yours."

"You suckered him into it, lady. You've been getting in my hair long enough. I warned you once. I'm not going to warn you again. There's not room enough for both of us in this town. I don't know where you keep your balls, but hide 'em, because if you ever do that to me again, I'm going to cut them off."

And he stormed out.

The dinner at her apartment that evening with Paul was strained.

"You seem preoccupied, baby," Paul said. "Any problems?"

Lara managed a smile. "No. Everything's fine." Why didn't Philip tell me he was going away?

"When does the Reno project start?"

"Howard and I are going to fly there again next week. We should be able to open in about nine months."

"You could have a baby in nine months."

Lara looked at him in surprise. "What?"

Paul Martin took her hand in his. "You know I'm crazy about you, Lara. You've changed my whole life. I wish things could have turned out differently. I would have loved for us to have had kids together."

There was nothing Lara could say to that.

"I have a little surprise for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jewelry box. "Open it."

"Paul, you've already given me so much..."

"Open it."

Inside the box was an exquisite diamond necklace.

"It's lovely."

He stood up, and she felt his hands on her as he put the necklace around her neck. His hands slid down, caressing her breasts, and he said huskily, "Let's check it out."

Paul was leading her into the bedroom. Lara's mind was spinning. She had never been in love with him, and going to bed with him had been easy - the payment for all he had done for her - but now there was a difference. She was in love. I'm a fool, Lara thought. I'll probably never see Philip again.

She undressed slowly, reluctantly, and then they were in bed, and Paul Martin was on top of her, inside her, moaning, "Baby, I'm nuts about you." And she looked up and it was Philip's face she saw.

Everything was progressing smoothly. The renovations on the Reno hotel were proceeding rapidly, Cameron Towers was going to be finished on schedule, and Lara's reputation kept growing. She had called Philip Adler several times over the past few months, but he was always away on tour.

"Mr. Adler is in Beijing..."

"Mr. Adler is in Paris..."

"Mr. Adler is in Sydney..."

To hell with him, Lara thought.

During the next six months Lara managed to outbid Steve Murchison on three properties he was after.

Keller came to Lara, worried. "The word around town is that Murchison is making threats against you. Maybe we should cool it with him. He's a dangerous enemy, Lara."

"So am I," Lara said. "Maybe he should get into another business."

"It's not a joking matter, Lara. He..."

"Forget about him, Howard. I just got a tip about a property in Los Angeles. It's not on the market yet. If we move fast, I think we can get it. We'll fly out in the morning.

"

The property was on the site of the old Biltmore Hotel and consisted of five acres. A real estate agent was showing Lara and Howard around the grounds.

"Prime property," he was saying. "Yes, sir. You can't go wrong with this. You can build a beautiful little city in this area...apartment buildings, shopping centers, theaters, malls..."

"No."

He looked at Lara in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not interested."

"You're not? Why?"

"The neighborhood," Lara said. "I don't think people are going to move into this area. Los Angeles is moving west. People are like lemmings. You aren't going to get them to reverse direction."

"But..."

"I'll tell you what I am interested in. Condos. Find me a good location."

Lara turned to Howard. "I'm sorry I wasted our time. We'll fly back this afternoon."

When they returned to their hotel, Keller bought a newspaper at the newsstand. "Let's see what the market is doing today."

They looked through the paper. In the entertainment section was a large advertisement that read: "TONIGHT AT THE HOLLYWOOD BOWL-PHILIP ADLER." Lara's heart gave a little jump.

"Let's go back tomorrow," Lara said.

Keller studied her a moment. "Are you interested in the music or the musician?"

"Get us two tickets."

Lara had never been to the Hollywood Bowl before. The largest natural amphitheater in the world, it is surrounded by the hills of Hollywood, the grounds a park, open year-round for visitors to enjoy. The Bowl itself seats eighteen thousand people. It was filled to capacity, and Lara could sense the anticipation of the crowd. The musicians began to come onto the stage, and they were greeted with expectant applause. Andre Previn appeared, and the applause grew more enthusiastic. There was a hush, then loud applause from the audience as Philip Adler walked out on the stage, elegant in white tie and tails.

Lara squeezed Keller's arm. "Isn't he handsome?" she whispered.

Keller did not answer.

Philip sat down at the piano, and the program began. His magic took over instantly, enveloping the audience. There was a mysticism about the night. The stars were shining down, lighting the dark hills surrounding the Bowl. Thousands of people sat there silently, moved by the majesty of the music. When the last notes of the concerto died away, there was a roar from the audience, as the people leaped to their feet, applauding and cheering. Philip stood there, taking bow after bow.

"Let's go backstage," Lara said.

Keller turned to look at her. Her voice was trembling with excitement.

The backstage entrance was at the side of the orchestra shell. A guard stood at the door, keeping the crowd out. Keller said, "Miss Cameron is here to see Mr. Adler."

"Is he expecting you?" the guard asked.

"Yes," Lara said.

"Wait here, please." A moment later the guard returned. "You can go in, Miss Cameron."

Lara and Keller walked into the greenroom. Philip was in the center of a crowd that was congratulating him.

"Darling, I've never heard Beethoven played so exquisitely. You were unbelievable..."

Philip was saying, "Thank you..."

"...thank you...with music like that, it's easy to be inspired..."

"...thank you...Andre is such a brilliant conductor..."

"...thank you...I always enjoy playing at the Bowl..."

He looked up and saw Lara, and again there was that smile. "Excuse me," he said. He made his way through the crowd, toward her. "I had no idea you were in town."

"We just flew in this morning. This is Howard Keller, my associate."

"Hello," Keller said curtly.

Philip turned to a short, heavyset man, standing behind him. "This is my manager, William Ellerbee." They exchanged hellos.

Philip was looking at Lara. "There's a party tonight at the Beverly Hilton. I was wondering..."

"We'd love to," Lara said.

When Lara and Keller arrived at the Beverly Hilton's International Ballroom, it was filled with musicians and music lovers, talking music.

"...have you ever noticed that the closer you get to the equator, the more demonstrative and hot-blooded the fans are..."

"...when Franz Liszt played, his piano became an orchestra...."

"...I disagree with you. De Groote's talent is not for Liszt or Paganini etudes, but more for Beethoven...."

"...you have to dominate the concerto's emotional landscape...."

Musicians speaking in tongues, Lara thought.

Philip was surrounded, as usual, by adoring fans. Just watching him gave Lara a warm glow.

When Philip saw her arrive, he greeted her with a broad smile. "You made it. I'm so glad."

"I wouldn't have missed it."

Howard Keller watched the two of them talking, and he thought, Maybe I should have learned to play the piano. Or maybe I should just wake up to reality. It seemed so long ago when he had first met the bright, eager, ambitious young girl. Time had been good to her, and it had stood still for him.

Lara was saying, "I have to go back to New York tomorrow, but perhaps we could have breakfast."

"I wish I could. I'm leaving for Tokyo early in the morning."

She felt a sharp pang of disappointment. "Why?"

He laughed. "That's what I do, Lara. I give a hundred and fifty concerts a year. Sometimes two hundred."

"How long will you be gone this time?"

"Eight weeks."

"I'll miss you," Lara said quietly. You have no idea how much.

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