Strange Bedpersons Read online

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “Why will we do this?”

  Park shifted on the desk. “Because if we get this, my father will retire.” He paused for a moment, a look of ecstasy on his face.

  “Why?” Nick said.

  “He’s been trying to get Welch for years.” Park shrugged at the inexplicability of it. “He’d consider it going out in style. Leaving the firm after snagging the account of one of America’s greatest novelists is his idea of the perfect exit. Think of the speeches at his retirement dinner. Think of the bragging he could do.” Park looked guiltily at Nick. “Think of you finally making partner.”

  Nick straightened in his chair, trying hard not to leap to his feet at the thought. There was ambition, which was good; and then there was pathetic, deep-seated, naked ambition, which was bad and which he was riddled with. He knew it was bad because it made him look anxious and vulnerable, and because Tess had told him it was morally reprehensible and there were times he thought she might have a point. A small point, but still a point. In the long run, though, it didn’t matter; lust for success was what made him run, and as long as he didn’t actually start maiming people to get to the top, he could live with it. The trick was in not betraying the depth of his need, so he kept his voice as cool as possible as he asked, “I make partner if we sign Welch?”

  “No doubt about it,” Park said. “We could stop sneaking around trying to run this place behind Dad’s back. We could stop cleaning up after his mistakes. And we could definitely make you partner. With my dad retired, it won’t matter that you’re not family. It won’t be a family firm anymore, anyway.”

  It was exactly what Nick wanted, but like everything else he’d wanted in his life, there was a catch to it. There was always a catch. Sometimes Nick got damn tired of catches.

  He leaned back in his chair and shook his head at Park. “But I make partner only if we get the account, which is probably not going to happen, and we both know it. You know, you could just suggest to your father that I should be a partner even though I’m not family. I’m overdue for it, no matter what he says.”

  Park looked appalled. “Disagree with my father?”

  “Right,” Nick said. “I forgot. So what is it I have to do here?”

  “Get married.”

  “No.”

  “My dad thinks it’s time.” Park looked suicidal. “He said that playing the field is for young men. He said unmarried men at forty-two just look pathetic.”

  Nick shrugged. “That’s your problem. I’m thirty-eight.”

  “He said anything over thirty-five is questionable.”

  Nick held on to his patience. “Park, no offense, but I don’t give a rat’s ass what your father thinks about my marital status. I just want to make partner.” He thought for a minute. “And a lot of money.”

  “And you will,” Park assured him. “You just have to get the Welch account.”

  “Right.”

  “So find a wife,” Park said.

  “No.”

  “How about a serious fiancée? Can’t you propose to one of those women you keep dating?”

  “How about a serious breach-of-promise suit when I change my mind after the weekend is over?”

  “Don’t you know anybody who could fake it for a weekend?” Park’s eyes pleaded with him. “Dad said we had to get women who know literature.”

  “Tess,” Nick said promptly, and Park groaned.

  “Not Tess. Anyone but Tess.”

  “She probably wouldn’t do it, anyway,” Nick said. “She pretty much stopped talking to me right after I refused to—” He caught himself and stopped. “What have you got against Tess, anyway?”

  “I just hate to see you limiting yourself to one woman. Never limit yourself. That’s why I want you to get the Welch account. New horizons.”

  “I haven’t exactly seen everything I wanted of Tess’s horizons,” Nick said.

  “Tess is no good for you,” Park said. “Women with brains are bad news. They distract you with their bodies and then they—”

  “Tess would be excellent for impressing an author,” Nick said. “She’s an English teacher. She’s involved in all those censorship protests.” He thought back to the last one he’d seen her at, holding a sign that said Pornography Is in the Mind of the Beholder. She’d been wearing a blue sweater, and his mind had leapt instantly to pornographic thoughts, which were the safest thoughts he could have around Tess. She was tactless and undignified and spontaneous and out of control, but there was something about her that kept pulling him back to her, and he hoped to hell it was her body, because if it was anything more, he was in big trouble.

  Park was still on the trail. “Protesting might not be good. Is it legal?”

  Nick slumped back in his chair. “Park, did you pay any attention in law school?”

  “Only to the good stuff. I knew I wasn’t going to be defending protesters.” Park frowned at him. “What do you see in this woman?”

  Nick started to tell him and then stopped. Park would never understand the attraction of Tess’s cheerfully passionate need to save the world, although he would probably understand the attraction of her cheerfully passionate enthusiasm for life, an enthusiasm that swept away everyone she was with until they almost did incredibly stupid things in Music Hall parking lots....

  Back to Park’s question. Stick to the basics. “She has great legs.”

  Park put his hand on Nick’s shoulder and gave him a fatherly pat. “That’s not enough to build a relationship on.”

  “Oh?” Nick said, surprised at this sudden evidence of depth in his friend. “And what is?”

  “Breasts,” Park said, and Nick had the feeling he was only partly joking. “Breasts are very important for women. Their clothes just don’t hang right without them.”

  Nick nodded. “Thanks, Dad, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Although she does have excellent legs,” Park went on. “Still, you’re better off without—”

  “What were you doing looking at Tess’s legs? I thought you didn’t like her.”

  “Trust me, as soon as she opened her mouth, I stopped looking. What did you do—gag her at night?”

  Nick briefly considered explaining that he’d never spent the night, and then discarded the idea. It would open a whole new conversational distraction for Park, and after his father’s pep talk, Park was distracted enough already.

  Park went back on attack. “You can pull this off for one weekend. Just don’t get Tess to do it. That mouth of hers makes me nervous. She has absolutely no tact, and she always tells the truth no matter who she’s talking to.” He shook his head in disgusted amazement. “Definitely not our kind of people.”

  Nick looked at his friend with resignation. “Why do I get the feeling that if I stick with you, one day I’ll wake up with my hair slicked back, wearing red suspenders and muttering, ‘Greed is good’?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with greed,” Park said. “In moderation, of course. Now, go get a date for this weekend. And remember Welch is an author. She has to have read something besides the society pages.”

  “Really? Then who the hell are you going to bring?” Nick asked.

  “Oh. Good point.” Park frowned. “Can you get me a date?”

  Chapter Two

  “Let me get this straight,” Tess said from her armchair when Nick had finished explaining and the only evidence left of the pot stickers was an empty carton and a tangy memory. “You want me to pretend to be your fiancée in order to deceive one of our greatest living American authors so that you can take another step in your drive toward ultimate yuppiehood.” She thought about it for a minute. “This could be good, I could wear an apron.”

  Nick looked confused. “No, you couldn’t. This is a very ritzy party. Why would you wear an apron?”

  Tess shrugged. “All right, no apron. But it’s your loss.”

  Nick shifted slightly. “Tess, concentrate here. I need to look like somebody who is approaching