Read Online Acts of Love by Judith Michael - Free Book Online Page B

working on? You haven’t told me anything about it.”
    â€œNo.” The sommelier brought the wine and Luke sat back and looked at Claudia. She was wearing a dark blue dinner suit, beaded at the deep cuffs and collar and cut with such dramatic angles that it was almost a costume. She wore it with style, attracting glances. But they were brief, because her beauty was the kind that left people feeling puzzled, wondering why they were not drawn to such perfection. Her face was a perfect oval framed by straight black hair that swung smoothly when she turned her head; her black eyes were spaced perfectly, her cheekbones made gentle shadows in her smooth, lightly powdered skin. Her mouth . . . well, that was one of the problems, Luke thought. Her mouth would have been perfect but for the tiny tug of dissatisfaction at each corner, like a perpetual complaint that the world was not living up to Claudia Cameron’s expectations. And then there was something wrong with her perfection itself: she always looked a little as if she were lacquered, her features unmarked by warmth. Even when she smiled, her eyes were watchful and a little suspicious.
    Once, Luke had been overwhelmed by her beauty, when he was young and beginning to be noticed. He knew she would help him to be noticed, and she did: they were such a striking couple that their photographs appeared in magazines more often than couples with greater fame and more impressive credentials. And Claudia helped him in other ways. She was an amiable hostess who followed Luke’s directions perfectly in hiring caterers, florists and valets; she tolerated unexpected guests with a bright smile; and she could talk lightly and amusingly at parties of ten or a hundred for an entire evening without saying one word of significance or making one remark that anyone could construe as controversial.
    â€œWhat are you thinking about?” she asked, having held her pose for several minutes so that he could gaze at her without interruption.
    Luke nodded to the sommelier to pour the wine. “What a good hostess you are.”
    â€œOh, was. I don’t entertain anymore. There doesn’t seem to be any point. Is the eighteen-year-old real, or is she in a play?”
    â€œShe’s real.”
    â€œWho is she?”
    â€œAn actress.”
    â€œAt eighteen?”
    â€œShe’s in the theater program at Yale.”
    â€œAnd fired up with ambition? That’s what you find so attractive about her?”
    â€œDo I find her attractive?”
    â€œEnough to make you forget I’m sitting here.”
    â€œI didn’t forget; I was distracted. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”
    Claudia beckoned to the waiter. “Ravioli alla quattro funghi, ” she said, “and the tre colore salad to start. Keep the dressing on the side. What are you having, Luke? Maybe the same thing? You always did like mushrooms.”
    An old trick, Luke thought, remembering all the ways Claudia had tried to bind them into one when it was clear their marriage had failed to do that. “Lobster risotto,” he said to the waiter, “and the same salad as the lady.” He turned to Claudia. “Is it money again?”
    â€œOh, Luke, how crude you are.”
    â€œYou’re right. I’m sorry. But you did say you had to talk to me.”
    â€œWell, I am.” He made a gesture of impatience that she recognized and she said hastily, “It’s just that I need to talk. You know that, Luke. All these years and I haven’t found one person who understands me the way you do. You know there’s more to me than people think. I was a good hostess, wasn’t I? People always talked about our parties; some of them would have killed to get invitations. I loved being your hostess; I remember every party we ever gave. Remember the time that prince, the short one, what’s-his-name . . .”
    Luke drank his wine and