“You’re hired. Martha was right. You’re amazing. I like every single idea you just shared with me. Would you take the job, after I see an estimate for your fees?” But she had the distinct impression that cost wasn’t going to be an obstacle, and the woman in London who had referred her had said that Nadia wasn’t cheap but she was very good.
“Of course I’d take the job.” She smiled at him. “That’s why I’m here. I think it will be fun to work with you. How soon would you like a presentation? And I’ll include a time and fee estimate with it,” she said, respecting his businesslike get-right-to-the-point style.
“Does a week from today sound too unreasonable?” he asked her. “I’m better dealing with something like this on the weekends.” A week was going to be a race against time to gather all the materials she wanted to show him, and enough options to excite and inspire him, but not overwhelm or confuse him.
“I can make it work,” she said with a look of determination. She was going to have to ask their babysitter to work for a few hours on Saturday mornings, until she didn’t need weekly meetings with him.
“Great.” He smiled broadly at her and seemed to relax. He held out a hand and shook hers. He had a firm handshake, and a gentler look in his eyes than he had at first. “You seem like a powerhouse, Nadia. At least your separation or divorce hasn’t slowed you down any, from what I can see. I was a mess for two years the first time. I felt dead inside. The second time took me about eight months to get back on my feet. The world lost all its color for me for a while.” It was hard to imagine his being overly emotional and upset by anything. He seemed to be in full control of his life.
“It was a difficult summer,” she admitted, “but I’m better now.” She didn’t want him to think she was falling apart just when he needed her. “It was all a bit of a surprise.”
“It usually is,” he said with just the thinnest razor-sharp edge of bitterness in his voice. “Somebody told me you don’t know the people you’re married to until you get divorced. I think it’s true. Some people know it’s wrong right from the beginning. I never did. I got blindsided by my own stupidity, I guess. Anyway, I hope your situation goes okay. I’m sure it’s even harder with kids involved, emotionally speaking. The economics can be pretty ugly either way.” She could easily imagine that greedy women would have wanted a fortune from him. He seemed like he came from old money, had made a fortune on his own, and had a big job on top of it. It was a recipe for people wanting to take advantage of him, which wasn’t her situation with Nicolas. There were no vast fortunes involved, and what Nicolas had inherited from his parents was entirely his, and she had no problem with that. She had a successful business of her own. It wasn’t about money with Nicolas. She imagined that Gregory lived a lonely life in a rarefied world, which wasn’t her situation. Gregory Holland was all business.
“I’ll have everything to present to you next week,” she said with a smile, and they took a last run-through to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. She would need a set of blueprints from him if he hired her. Nadia made a few notes and then he set the alarm, and they walked out together. She could hardly wait to get home and get started over the weekend. He got in his car and left, and she walked out to hers on the street.
Two hours after she’d left home, she had an enormous new project, which she thought could turn out brilliantly, and a new client. She went to meet Nicolas in the park to pick up the girls. She was going to do errands with them that afternoon.
“How did it go?” Nicolas asked her. He was having fun with the girls, running around and letting them chase him. His eyes lit up when he saw Nadia. He thought she looked beautiful in a red sweater and jeans, with black Hermès riding boots that were just broken in enough to look chic.
“It went great. I think he’s going to hire me. He found a beautiful little house in a courtyard. He’s a typical American businessman, probably very tough, but smart, sharp, honest, direct, no games, and lots of money.”
“That type of guy scares me to death.” Nicolas had the soul of an artist, and had been writing since he was a child. In better times, he was sensitive, gentle, and funny. Gregory Holland wasn’t any of those things. Her new client didn’t seem to have an artistic nature, but in some ways it was a relief. She didn’t have to massage his ego or play games with him. All she had to do was work like a dog and make the interior of his new home beautiful. A tall order, but one she felt she could achieve. And the house had good bones. It was a lot easier than dealing with the mess her husband had foisted on them.
She left with the two girls then, and Nicolas said he’d be in touch when he came back from Brittany in a few days. He said he wasn’t staying long. Pascale’s mother’s house was tiny, with one bathroom, and there was barely room for all of them. Nicolas was accustomed to bigger spaces and more comfort, and he wasn’t crazy about her mother. Nicolas found her brassy and common. But she was useful, and had promised to take the baby off Pascale’s hands to make up for her own past sins with her daughter.
Nadia began working on concepts and drawings for Gregory Holland on Saturday night, and again on Sunday night after Sylvie and Laure were asleep. By Monday, she was on a roll and knew what direction she was heading in. She pulled fabrics from the mills she liked to work with, and included a few photographs of sculptures on her suggestion boards. She computerized drawings and photographs to show him what it could look like.
* * *
—
On Tuesday, she finally got to see her lawyer, whom she hadn’t seen since late July. She told him what she was thinking about the divorce, and their current separation.
“You want to file the divorce, Madame Bateau, or wait until he does it?” That idea didn’t appeal to her. It put the controls back in his hands, on his schedule. If he didn’t want a divorce, he could drag it out forever, or for a very long time. And if their marriage was truly over, she wanted to close the door for good and be free.
“He just got a small apartment last week,” she informed her attorney. “He hasn’t moved his things out, but I’m sure he will soon.”
“It sounds like he’s still got a foot firmly planted in your camp, and probably wants to keep it that way, while he makes up his mind,” the attorney said wisely.
“He says that he doesn’t want a divorce, and wants to come back. But he’s still with his mistress, and they’re having a baby.”
“Are you sure you want a divorce, Madame Bateau?” he asked her pointedly. He had had plenty of clients change their minds. Sometimes it was just too hard to let go, and he suspected that she was still in love with him, despite her brave words about how “done” she was.