Read Online Sweet Karoline by Catherine Astolfo - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Astolfo
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when I ran the car up onto an embankment, I hadn't realized how preoccupied I was with our conversation. On that day I realized abruptly that I had stepped over the edge, the one that takes you from the shore of daydream to the sea of nightmare without noticing that you're wet.
I also hadn't realized how utterly, completely and definitively I had eventually shut out every single other person in my life. For all my years in school I'd been part of a trio. When we graduated we acquired jobs close to one another. Giulio lived two blocks away. Karoline was my roommate. They were my friends, my confidants, my travel companions. More often than not they were my dates on a Saturday night. I didn't need anyone else. I was safe from the terror of establishing relationships, looking for love, finding the right man.
Only the drive for a sexual encounter ever led me to go out with men. As Karoline and I regularly discussed, those liaisons often caused tears over the agony of unrequited devotion. Or they resulted in obsession and stalking. And not from my side. There were ways, Karoline said, to satisfy my sexual urges by myself. Over the years I slowly began to refrain from dating. We made a pact with Giulio to father our children should we ever want them but Karoline and I came into our thirties with no ticking clocks. We were too busy with careers, travel, shows, openings, parties and dinners.
Then Parris Jeffrey, followed by Glenn Simpson, entered our lives.
Dear Diary,
Everything was so perfect. We didn't need anyone else in our lives. Then those two started to fuck up big time. I've been patient a long while and I don't see how I can put up with it much longer. Am I the only one with brains?
Chapter 7
Parris is a tall, lanky girl with long red hair and luminous blue eyes, two years younger than I. Not quite beautiful with her beefy thighs and knobby hands and freckles smeared all over her cheeks, she is nevertheless the kind of woman to whom attention is paid. Men follow her hearty laugh down a street or a hallway and watch the sway of her hips. She has thick lips that she paints bright red and she uses her long black eyelashes without compunction. She looks and sounds lusty. Parris can tell an off color joke, curse or fart in public and get away with it. She makes everyone laugh and brings everyone into her circle.
Parris worked for me at Grace Productions. These days she has my desk.
At the time, I was thrilled to acquire an assistant. We had a huge number of projects on the go and I found tracking all of them exhausting. Joseph Grayson, one of my employers, approved hiring someone to groom and mentor as well as assist. Grace Productions was expanding. There was even talk of a branch in New York City. For our business, the 80's recession passed right over and flung us toward the future without a blip. Thus I had no thoughts or concerns about competition from a new hire. I sat in on the interviews. Parris was our number one choice.
She immediately proved that we had been correct in our assessment. Smart, funny and personable, she handled the clients like a pro. She asked questions, watched carefully and requested help or advice when she needed it. Parris was a dream. Before I knew it, we were having lunch together or going out for coffee at breaks. She told me her thoughts, ambitions, about her family and her love life. In time I told her some of my secrets, too.
Very slowly it dawned on me that Parris wasn't simply a colleague. She was a friend. It also occurred to me that she listened to and shared far more of my thoughts and opinions than Karoline did. Where my lifelong friend and I were drifting apart, this interesting, younger female was edging closer. It was like a husband and wife who'd become estranged.
Karoline noticed, too. "So you had lunch with your assistant again today?" she asked on our homeward commute, peering at me sideways as she slowed for traffic.
" I did," I replied happily because I
I also hadn't realized how utterly, completely and definitively I had eventually shut out every single other person in my life. For all my years in school I'd been part of a trio. When we graduated we acquired jobs close to one another. Giulio lived two blocks away. Karoline was my roommate. They were my friends, my confidants, my travel companions. More often than not they were my dates on a Saturday night. I didn't need anyone else. I was safe from the terror of establishing relationships, looking for love, finding the right man.
Only the drive for a sexual encounter ever led me to go out with men. As Karoline and I regularly discussed, those liaisons often caused tears over the agony of unrequited devotion. Or they resulted in obsession and stalking. And not from my side. There were ways, Karoline said, to satisfy my sexual urges by myself. Over the years I slowly began to refrain from dating. We made a pact with Giulio to father our children should we ever want them but Karoline and I came into our thirties with no ticking clocks. We were too busy with careers, travel, shows, openings, parties and dinners.
Then Parris Jeffrey, followed by Glenn Simpson, entered our lives.
Dear Diary,
Everything was so perfect. We didn't need anyone else in our lives. Then those two started to fuck up big time. I've been patient a long while and I don't see how I can put up with it much longer. Am I the only one with brains?
Chapter 7
Parris is a tall, lanky girl with long red hair and luminous blue eyes, two years younger than I. Not quite beautiful with her beefy thighs and knobby hands and freckles smeared all over her cheeks, she is nevertheless the kind of woman to whom attention is paid. Men follow her hearty laugh down a street or a hallway and watch the sway of her hips. She has thick lips that she paints bright red and she uses her long black eyelashes without compunction. She looks and sounds lusty. Parris can tell an off color joke, curse or fart in public and get away with it. She makes everyone laugh and brings everyone into her circle.
Parris worked for me at Grace Productions. These days she has my desk.
At the time, I was thrilled to acquire an assistant. We had a huge number of projects on the go and I found tracking all of them exhausting. Joseph Grayson, one of my employers, approved hiring someone to groom and mentor as well as assist. Grace Productions was expanding. There was even talk of a branch in New York City. For our business, the 80's recession passed right over and flung us toward the future without a blip. Thus I had no thoughts or concerns about competition from a new hire. I sat in on the interviews. Parris was our number one choice.
She immediately proved that we had been correct in our assessment. Smart, funny and personable, she handled the clients like a pro. She asked questions, watched carefully and requested help or advice when she needed it. Parris was a dream. Before I knew it, we were having lunch together or going out for coffee at breaks. She told me her thoughts, ambitions, about her family and her love life. In time I told her some of my secrets, too.
Very slowly it dawned on me that Parris wasn't simply a colleague. She was a friend. It also occurred to me that she listened to and shared far more of my thoughts and opinions than Karoline did. Where my lifelong friend and I were drifting apart, this interesting, younger female was edging closer. It was like a husband and wife who'd become estranged.
Karoline noticed, too. "So you had lunch with your assistant again today?" she asked on our homeward commute, peering at me sideways as she slowed for traffic.
" I did," I replied happily because I
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