Market Street Read online

  Cassie couldn’t remember which corner Alexis’s house was on. She walked up a stone pathway, rang the doorbell, and waited. A girl with short blond hair answered the door. Cassie blinked. When she opened her eyes, the girl was wearing a red lace bra and panties. Cassie turned and ran down the path to the street.

  Cassie tried the house at the next corner. Alexis answered the door wearing a velour sweat suit and UGG slippers. She carried a tiny white puppy swaddled in a blue blanket.

  “Cassie, you’re soaking wet.”

  Cassie looked down at her clothes. She was still wearing the running pants and long-sleeved T-shirt she had put on in the morning. She vaguely remembered folding her raincoat over the shopping cart at the co-op. She must have left her rain boots in the kitchen because she had moccasins on her feet.

  “Can I come in?” Cassie asked.

  “Of course you can come in. Why didn’t you call? What are you doing, where’s Aidan?” Alexis dragged Cassie inside.

  The inside of Alexis’s house looked like the grand salon at the Ritz. The living room had marble floors and thick wool rugs. A grand piano filled one corner and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The walls were painted a glossy eggshell and the curtains were French silk.

  “Sit down, I’ll get some tea.” Alexis moved a stack of magazines from a long velvet sofa.

  “I don’t want tea.”

  “Cassie, you look terrible. Your cheeks are bright red.”

  “I think I have a fever.” Cassie felt her forehead. The light in the room was very bright and everything seemed to be covered by a yellow filter.

  Alexis put the puppy on the sofa and touched Cassie’s head. “You’re on fire. I’ll call a doctor.”

  “I don’t need a doctor.” Cassie shook her head. “But I’d like to lie down.”

  “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll have Pia bring some Tylenol.”

  Alexis led her into a bedroom with white carpet and a canopied bed. She opened the armoire and took out a silk robe and red slippers. She turned down the covers and helped Cassie take off her pants and shirt.

  “Get some sleep; we’ll talk in the morning.” Alexis turned off the bedside light.

  Cassie remembered someone else saying the same thing. She thought it was Aidan, but she couldn’t be sure. She wanted to answer Alexis but she lay back against the silk pillowcase and fell asleep.

  * * *

  When Cassie woke it was dark outside. She listened for the rain, but it had stopped. Her throat was so dry she could barely swallow. Her eyes focused on an antique clock on the bedside table. The hands read eight o’clock. She tried to sit up, but her head was too heavy. She closed her eyes and slept.

  * * *

  “Cassie, have some juice. You haven’t eaten in two days.” Alexis sat in a lacquered red chair next to Cassie’s bed. She held a glass of orange juice on a silver tray. The puppy was curled in her lap, making small snuffling noises.

  Cassie opened her eyes and looked around the room. There was a mahogany desk by the window and framed Chinese writing on the walls. A red ottoman sat at the foot of the bed, and gold pillows were piled on the floor.

  “Let me guess, you call this the red room,” Cassie said.

  “You haven’t talked in two days and the first thing you do is criticize my design.” Alexis handed Cassie the orange juice. “Carter had an extended stay in Beijing last summer. He wanted to re-create the ambience.” Alexis waited until Cassie drank the juice. “I’ve been really worried. You had a fever of a hundred and four.”

  Cassie tried to sit up. Her head still felt heavy and her eyes had trouble staying open.

  “Slow down.” Alexis took the glass back. “One baby step at a time.”

  “Thanks for letting me stay. I hope Carter doesn’t mind me intruding on your love nest.”

  “Carter is still in Luxembourg, followed by Venice, Berlin, and Zurich. The only ones in the love nest are me and Poodles.” Alexis held up the tiny white puppy.

  “That’s a very small poodle.” Cassie frowned.

  “He’s a shih tzu, I just named him Poodles. Carter gave him to me as a going away present.” Alexis kissed the dog on the nose. “Aidan’s been calling every hour. Your mother keeps calling too. What’s going on? You don’t just appear at my door in the middle of a monsoon for tea and biscuits.” Alexis nuzzled the puppy against her sweater.

  “Aidan fucked the student.”

  Alexis’s face crumpled. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “I ran into Molly at the co-op. She said she bought lace underwear with the refund she got for the pendant. I confronted Aidan and he admitted it. She lured him to her apartment to read a paper she was writing. They fucked on the futon,” Cassie replied.

  Alexis stood up and paced around the room. She clutched the puppy so tightly he made choking noises.

  “Aidan’s a goddamn ethics professor. He still looks like a sex god but he wouldn’t cheat on you. You’re his angel.”

  “He said it was a reflex reaction, like Pavlov’s dog. He said it would never happen again.”

  “Does that mean if he sees a topless woman on the beach he goes up to her and sucks her nipple?” Alexis collapsed on the chair. “Aidan.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

  “What did you tell him when he called?” Cassie asked weakly.

  “He wanted to drive over and take you home. I told him the doctor said you weren’t to be moved. I made that up, but I figured there was something going on. If you wanted to be home you would have stayed home.”

  “Thanks.” Cassie smiled.

  “He’s been calling hourly. I told him the doctor thought it was Asian bird flu and you were quarantined,” Alexis continued proudly.

  “I’m impressed.”

  Alexis plumped Cassie’s pillows. “Now we have to figure out what to do next.”

  “Next?” Cassie tried to keep her eyes open.

  “Whether you’re going to give him a second chance or cut his balls off and make them into a necklace,” Alexis replied.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Cassie shuddered.

  “You’re going to stay here. I’ll call Aidan and tell him you’re out of the woods, but you need complete rest for a week.” Alexis scooped up the puppy and walked to the door. “And I’ll call your mother too. She keeps saying she needs you at Fenton’s.”

  “Oh, God,” Cassie mumbled.

  “Cassie, they can get by without you for a few days. Get some sleep.”

  * * *

  When Cassie woke again the room was dark and she felt hot. She pushed off the covers, expecting Aidan to mumble that he was cold, but there was silence. She sat up and looked around the room. Everything was red, like the end of a kaleidoscope.

  Alexis opened the door, carrying a bowl of soup and a plate of saltines.

  “Now that the fever is gone, we’re going to feed you.” She set the tray on the bed.

  “I don’t know what day it is,” Cassie mumbled.

  “Thursday night. I had Pia make your favorite soup, chicken tortellini.”

  “How do you know that’s my favorite?” Cassie sat up.

  “Aidan has been calling with detailed instructions of your favorite soup and how you like your eggs. He wanted to cook the soup and bring it himself but I told him the whole house was quarantined. Asian bird flu can’t be taken lightly.” Alexis put a spoonful of soup to Cassie’s lips.

  “I’m glad my best friend is such a good liar.” Cassie swallowed the soup. It burned her mouth and got stuck in her throat.

  “Fibbing is different than lying.” Alexis put the bowl on the tray. “You can’t go through Sacred Heart without learning to fib.”

  “Remember when Molly came into Fenton’s and you said the whole thing meant nothing? That I had to believe in my marriage?” Cassie asked.

  “Ah, ha.” Alexis tried the soup. “This is good. I hope Pia wrote down the recipe.”

  “This isn’t the time to talk about
Aidan’s cooking skills.” Cassie swallowed another spoonful of soup. She closed her eyes and saw Aidan at the stove, slicing tomatoes and mushrooms and throwing them into the pot.

  “I’m listening.” Alexis brushed saltine crumbs from her lap.

  “Every time I think of Aidan I see Molly Payne wearing red lingerie.” Cassie’s lips trembled.

  “But you won’t always picture that. Think of the ten years you’ve spent together. Skiing in Tahoe, wine tasting in Napa. Remember when you guys went to Mexico, and you celebrated New Year’s in a hot tub overlooking the Pacific Ocean?”

  “Two years ago Aidan took me to Rome and we ate a different kind of pasta every night. We sat in the piazza and drank espressos till midnight.” Cassie nibbled a saltine.

  “Does it really get erased by one fuck?” Alexis put the tray on the bedside table. She stood up and walked around the room. “I’m not advocating cheating. If Carter screwed around I’d probably pack his bags and throw them on the street. But you and Aidan have a history, and you’re so good together.”

  “I know.” Cassie felt a little stronger. Flashbulbs stopped popping before her eyes. “That’s what makes it so hard. I love him, Alexis, but can you love someone who hurt you so badly?”

  “The only point in Aidan’s favor”—Alexis smoothed her blond ponytail—“is he hasn’t lied. He fucked up but he copped to it.”

  “So?”

  “Think about it. He gave Molly the pendant for innocent reasons. Stupid, but innocent. Her boyfriend dumps her. Aidan hands her this Fenton’s box, makes her happy. And he didn’t go to her apartment to fuck her. He thought her roommate was there. I can’t see Aidan in a ménage à trois, he’s not that kind of guy.”

  “What are you getting at?” Cassie leaned forward.

  “Fucking up and admitting it is one thing. Lying is another. If a guy can lie he can screw around forever. Secret cell phones, bogus e-mail accounts, credit cards in different names for clandestine weekend trysts.”

  “Let me guess, The Ellen Show?” Cassie smiled.

  “Honestly, you should hear what some guys do. But Aidan’s clean in that department.”

  “He had sex with another woman.” Cassie lay back against the pillows. Suddenly she felt hot and shivery.

  Alexis sat down and touched Cassie’s hand. “I just don’t want you to do anything quickly.”

  “I need to talk to him.” Cassie sighed.

  “How about if I tell Aidan to come here on Saturday. I’ll take Poodles for a walk, give you two some time alone,” Alexis suggested.

  “How about I walk Poodles and you talk to him?” Cassie smiled. “You understand this stuff better than I do.”

  “We’ll watch Dr. Phil together tomorrow afternoon.” Alexis picked up the silver tray. “You’ll do fine.”

  7.

  On Saturday morning, Cassie put on the red Chinese silk robe hanging in the armoire and ventured downstairs. Her hair sat limply on her shoulders, her cheeks were pale, and her stomach was completely flat. The smell of blueberry pancakes wafted up the stairs, and suddenly Cassie had a craving for maple syrup and whipped cream.

  Pia stood at the chrome counter and poured pancake batter onto the griddle. She turned to Cassie and smiled, motioning for her to sit at the kitchen table. Alexis’s kitchen was the opposite of the regally elegant living room. Every surface was chrome, polished so you could see your reflection. There were matching chrome dishwashers under the sink, and a chrome fridge with a built-in juice bar.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Blake,” Pia said in her Norwegian accent. “Would you like orange juice or coffee?”

  “Coffee please,” Cassie replied. Pia had the kind of Scandinavian beauty that made most women leery of hiring her. She was six feet tall with white blond hair and creamy skin no cosmetic could reproduce. It was a testament to Alexis’s supreme self-confidence that she hired her on the first interview when she discovered Pia knew how to make a bed military style and could iron Carter’s shirts without creasing a collar.

  “Hey, you made it downstairs.” Alexis held Poodles in her arms. She wore a pink Juicy sweat suit and knee-high black UGGs. “It’s freezing outside, but at least it’s sunny.”

  “I feel like Miss Havisham in Great Expectations.” Cassie sipped her coffee.

  “Never read it.” Alexis shook her head. “You do look really pale. Here, try some of these.” Alexis walked over to the pantry and put an assortment of bottles on the kitchen table.

  “What are these?” Cassie asked.

  Alexis read the labels. “Codfish oil, vitamin C, vitamin A, chewable calcium, and wheatgrass to rejuvenate your digestive system.”

  “I think I’ll stick with pancakes.” Cassie grimaced.

  “You want to look amazing when Aidan arrives.” Alexis swallowed two vitamin C tablets. “What are you going to wear?”

  “This robe and slippers? I don’t have any other clothes.” Cassie shrugged.

  Alexis looked at Cassie critically. “Only Hugh Hefner can wear a robe and be taken seriously. Aidan has to know you’re hurt but not broken. After breakfast, we’ll find you something in my closet.”

  “You’re three inches taller than me and your waist is two inches smaller.”

  “I’ve got a bunch of miniskirts that will fit perfectly. And you look like you lost ten pounds. A woman should write the ‘Adultery Diet.’ It would be an instant bestseller.” Alexis poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “I’d rather keep on the extra pounds.” Cassie sighed. She hadn’t talked to Aidan in days and she realized she was desperate to hear his voice. She thought about what he was doing right now: working out at the gym, showering, eating egg whites on toast.

  “We’ll make you look like Jessica Alba.” Alexis attacked half of a grapefruit.

  “How are we going to do that?” Cassie rolled her eyes.

  “I’ve been taking makeup lessons with Damien White. Give me a few hours and I can turn you into Angelina Jolie.”

  Cassie studied her reflection in the chrome fridge. “I’ll settle for Drew Barrymore. She always has that wounded-but-sexy thing going.”

  Alexis studied Cassie’s face. “I can do Drew Barrymore in twenty minutes.”

  Cassie followed Alexis into the master bedroom suite, which occupied half of the second floor. Double French doors led into a private foyer with a framed Matisse over the mantel. The bedroom had a circular bed with an enormous white headboard. White curtains trimmed with fox fur covered the windows, and there was a sable throw on the love seat.

  “You’ve redecorated.” Cassie ran her hand over the mink bedspread.

  “Carter spent a month in Moscow last winter. He wanted the bedroom to resemble the Winter Palace. He has one of Czar Nicholas’s footstools in his closet, and a Fabergé egg in the bathroom.” Alexis led Cassie through a short hallway.

  “Don’t you feel guilty about all the fur?” Cassie asked tentatively.

  “It’s faux fur.” Alexis opened the door to her walk-in. “Carter would kill me, he likes things to be authentic. But how could I hug my adorable Poodles knowing that animals have been killed to make my bedspread?”

  Cassie stepped into Alexis’s closet and took a deep breath. She had never seen so many clothes in a small space. There were rows of blouses, drawers of cashmere sweaters, baskets of lacy underwear, a whole wall of shoes and boots.

  “If I walk in deep enough do I end up in Narnia?” Cassie turned around.

  “I told you I don’t have anything to do but shop. Maybe I should get another puppy to keep Poodles company, or I could start a dog-walking business. The only problem is dogs Poodles’s size don’t like to actually walk, they want to be carried. And I miss him, Cassie. I propped our wedding photo on Carter’s pillow and I talk to it before I go to bed. Honestly, sometimes I think I’m going crazy.” Alexis collapsed onto a velvet ottoman.

  “When Carter gets back from Yugoslavia or wherever he is, tell him you want a job.” Cassie fingered a silk shirt with
pearl buttons.

  “Carter’s ego is bigger than his bank account. He doesn’t want his wife in the workforce; he thinks it makes his penis smaller.”

  “I’ll settle for a husband with a small penis, as long as he keeps it in his pants.” Cassie touched gabardine slacks in a pink-and-black check.

  “What do you think, miniskirt and boots for the retro ‘I’m too hip to give a fuck’ look or cashmere twin set with pearls for the ‘I’m too good for you, I’m a former deb’ message?” Alexis held up a pink-and-white mini and white Moon Boots and a cashmere pleated skirt and matching sweater.

  “How about jeans and a T-shirt that says ‘You broke my heart’?” Cassie slumped down on the ottoman.

  “Aidan is coming to see you with his tail between his legs. You hold the power, dress accordingly,” Alexis admonished her. “How about this Stella McCartney dress with Tory Burch pumps?”

  “Dress designed by the daughter of Aidan’s favorite Beatle. Shoes by New York socialite who started her own fashion empire.” Cassie held the dress up in front of the mirror.

  “By George, I think she’s got it.” Alexis grinned. “And we’ll tease your hair into a Jennifer Lopez tousle.”

  “What is a Jennifer Lopez tousle?” Cassie tried on the burgundy pumps with the round gold buckles.

  “I learned it in my hair design class; you’re going to love it.”

  * * *

  The doorbell rang as Alexis put the finishing touches to Cassie’s makeup. Cassie studied herself in the full-length mirror. The dress was navy with burgundy trim. The wide leather belt made her waist look small and the thick black mascara made her lashes seem wet. Alexis brushed a light bronzer on her cheeks “so you don’t look like you’re dying of consumption,” and pinned her hair with a diamond Tiffany clip. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” she said, examining her handiwork. “What do you think?”

  “I think I’d rather be in my garden wearing gardening gloves and a co-op T-shirt.” Cassie adjusted the diamond hair clip.

  “How about a shot of brandy for courage?”

  “I still feel as if my head’s about to crack open.”