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Authors: Karin Fromwald

Love under contract (22 page)

BOOK: Love under contract
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She felt as if she were going to vomit, and jumped up to run to the toilet – just what she needed.

Gregor sighed. So that’s what it was when he thought she was pregnant. It was only too many tablets, too much coffee, too little to eat . . . how stupid could he be.

When she returned her face was white as a sheet. She drank a little water. “So, are you pregnant again?!” Gregor said sarcastically. Zara raised her chin high. “Ha, I thought that today you were going to give it a rest.” Gregor shook his head. “You’re crazy.” Zara smiled. “I’ve never claimed the contrary.” That’s very true, he admitted to himself.

“You were completely taken in by my number about the pregnancy,” she suddenly laughed aloud. Gregor pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to be reminded of that. He leaned forward and said quietly, “Do you really find that amusing? How was I supposed to know that you can’t have children, after your abortion at age fourteen?” Zara grinned. “Oh, my ex told you that? The old gossip!” Alessandro was going to hear from her!

“Isn’t it true?” He leaned back. Zara turned off the Notebook. These probing questions – she felt very insecure in his presence. What business of his is it – he should live his own life and leave her in peace.

“Yes, it’s true, but it’s absolutely not any of your business.” She looked at him. Her heart beat fitfully; that must be the stimulants. She took his hand, turned it over to see the time on his wrist-watch. “Appointments?” he asked sharply. “That too is no longer any of your business.” She tossed her books into the computer bag and tucked the Notebook in. As if he knew what she was going to do . . . and his good mood was finally gone.

“You are mistaken, you signed a contract.” he said calmly. Zara had gotten up and laughed aloud. “The contract is not legal because it’s not ethical. You know that very well. One can’t buy someone  -- and one doesn’t have to be a lawyer in order to know that,” she rebuked him. “That may be correct, but you signed it nonetheless.” She interrupted him. “My God, Gregor, find a woman who loves you, who will give you children – all this bourgeois crap that you stand for, move on . . .” She shook her head and then said slowly, “Oh, something else – if I had actually been pregnant, I would never have left you.”

 

Gregor looked into her eyes. She really meant it sincerely. Was he supposed to create a miracle? “I’m not Moses who parted the sea, even if I am a Jew.” She put on her heavy down jacket and her gloves, put her bag over her shoulder and wanted to go. Gregor held her by the arm. His fingers sank into the fabric. “I didn’t want you because I wanted children; that was never the reason. Why did you do it? Not because of the money?” He hadn’t understood anything to this point.

Zara tore herself loose from his grasp. “Because of my mother and because it’s fun to torture men.” That’s what he wanted to hear, right?

She tried to turn to leave. “Because of your mother? What the devil does your mother have to do with us?” He didn’t understand, he grasped her arm again. She looked at him, enraged. “Let me go immediately!” The waiter looked at Zara – should he help her?

Gregor saw hate in her eyes, but also fear. “Don’t pretend that you know nothing; but it’s resolved now. I had my revenge and you should forget everything.” she said louder, as she intended. Why was he playing the innocent one? He should know exactly what he had done to her mother.

“No, nothing is resolved.” Here was this rage again. “You will marry me, you will honor the contract – and believe me, you can’t fight me on this and win.” What is this crazy blueblood imagining? What am I supposed to do penance for?

His voice was so cutting that cold shivers ran down Zara’s spine, although she was wearing the heavy down jacket and gloves. “What do you want to do, kidnap me?” He had finally loosened his grip and she hurried to the door.

She couldn’t get his words out of her mind and she had to admit that she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she would have liked to have been – even if it wasn’t love that she felt for him. But what was love, actually? She didn’t know exactly, either. Did she ever love Alessandro?

 

Gregor, on the other hand, wanted to teach her a lesson – and he made a few phone calls. It wasn’t possible to get through to the little arrogant aristocrat in a nice manner, so she should experience the opposite. Yes, he loved her, but no one was going to play games with him!

His first act was arranging for a search of a club where Zara and her friends were celebrating one evening – and of course, something was found – no one had expected a raid; the next day Zara was driving to Insead and ran into a police trap, where her driver’s license was taken away because she was speeding and had taken stimulants. A number of these significant coincidences piled on within the course of a single week. But Zara didn’t make the connection to Gregor so quickly -- how could she?

But when she didn’t receive a single job offer, despite her excellent qualifications,  from any of the investment banks where she applied, doubts began to trouble her.

She considered the rejections in despair – not a single interview! How could that be? She wanted to know. It was already after Easter and she picked up the telephone receiver and called one of the best known investment banks where she knew someone in the Personnel Department, a fellow student from Harvard.

After a few attempts, she reached Andrew, the former student-colleague, on the phone. They spoke briefly about Harvard and then Zara asked directly whether he was aware of her application. Andrew was silent, briefly. Zara said, “Andrew, are you there?” becoming a little insecure. “Yes, and to be honest, you should perhaps return to being a lawyer.” Zara didn’t quite understand. “Why, I don’t understand exactly . . .” Her heart beat faster. “You have an enemy – and he has very, very good contacts; your application was immediately rejected.” “You can’t be serious, I’ll sue the guy, who is it?” “Zara, please, I can’t say anything; I’m happy working here.” But she knew who was behind all this; only Gregor had these good contacts.

Zara hadn’t been so angry in a very long time. She slammed the receiver onto the cradle, threw a book at the bare, white wall of her living room and screamed loudly, “Just you wait!” Tears of rage welled up in her eyes. She slipped into her light coat and took a taxi to the LHM Headquarters . Her driver’s license wouldn’t be activated again until August. “Watch out; if Gregor is there, he’ll experience something that he never has; how did he dare to interfere with my life!”

She rushed through the revolving door toward the two receptionists who recognized her immediately. “Oh, Madame Valois, how can we help you?” Zara was hardly aware of the two women. “I have to see Doctor Levy, is he here?” That she had had something going with Gregor had also been common knowledge in Paris and the redhead smiled. “I’m sorry, Madame, Doctor Levy left LHM a month ago.” Zara stared at her. “What!” Did she miss something? Had she not read a news report? Shit!

 

Gregor had turned his back on the fashion business once again – after two successful years as the head of the concern he had simply had enough, and if he was honest with himself, Zara was also at fault. Everyone seemed to have known, but no one said anything. He had always been happy as an investment banker; he had earned an extremely good salary and was very successful. When a friend in Paris made him an offer in January to come back – and at the executive level – he did not hesitate for very long in taking his leave as CEO.

Zara had simply not read any papers and the people with whom she spent her leisure time did not read the
Wall Street Journal
  -- which is why she preferred going out with models and artists rather than lawyers and managers.

She found the announcements regarding his departure on the Internet and she had an “Aha” moment as she read that he had once again become an investment banker. That explained certain things.

After a few phone calls and a night without sleep, she knew that Gregor was in London for some business meetings.

 

Gregor was at dinner with some important business partners and billionaire clients, in the trendy restaurant of the Claridge Hotel. It must have already been 11:00 p.m. as he, deep in conversation with Sir Anthony Lodon, was nudged in the side by his colleague in the seat next to him. “Say, Levy, don’t you know that young woman?” Gregor looked up and saw Zara at the entrance of the restaurant talking with the waiter.

He sensed trouble, since he knew full well how he had disrupted her life in the last few weeks. “Yes, I know her,” he said. She would know how to behave in public, he hoped.

Zara had seen him immediately and she also recognized Sir Lodon. And there were enough guests in the restaurant who recognized her, the delicate dark-blonde in the sexy lilac YSL-dress with the high-heeled sandals. Her hair hung loose to her shoulders, and she looked like a knock-out, as always – but she wasn’t smiling; she stared at Gregor and before he knew it, she was standing at their table. She smiled charmingly at Sir Lodon. “Nice to see you, Madame Valois,” he said and got up to kiss the hand she extended. She smiled briefly, then turned to Gregor. He had never seen a hand raised so quickly, and his cheek was already burning. She had slapped him in front of everyone! He hadn’t figured on that!

The other men at the table were silent and a bit bewildered, and then grinned broadly. What should they say when their banker had just been slapped – by this beautiful woman?

Gregor touched his cheek, which burned, and he was so stunned that for several seconds words failed him. But if he had any, he wouldn’t have been able to use them, because Zara hissed at him,  “You dare to destroy my career? What right do you have to do this?”

 

He was satisfied; he had at least disturbed her composure – although four months was a really long period of time. He didn’t think that she would hold out that long.

Her eyes glimmered angrily. He shouldn’t have smiled with such satisfaction, for Zara already had the bottle of red wine in her hand. At the last moment he held her hand tightly and steered her out of the restaurant with an iron grip, and with a short “I believe I must speak with Madame alone.” The others were still grinning – and it wasn’t just the four men who had watched everything, the other guests too – and Gregor knew full well that he would be reading about the incident in every tabloid the next morning.

He let her loose from his clutches in the foyer. She did not go quietly – she struggled, and cursed him. She reminded him of a wild cat.

She stood facing him, furious, and he still held her hands in his grasp. He was afraid she would hit him again or throw something at him.

He was not as amused now as he had been in the restaurant. She had simply made an exhibition of herself; the men at the table were, after all, business partners. “How can you behave like a fishwife!” he shouted at her. “You repulsive, conceited asshole,” she yelled back at him, angrily. “Now moderate your voice!” The guests in the foyer turned to look at the beautiful couple, giving both Gregor in his expensive dark blue designer suit and Zara in her thin designer dress the once-over. Many wondered if they were actors . . . and not only because they were conducting their public squabble so dramatically.

“I can raise my voice here if I want to – leave me in peace!” Her cheeks glowed with excitement and actually he would have liked to have kissed her and to have made love to her on the spot, but he knew that he mustn’t show weakness with regard to her in any way.

“You’ll get your peace when you marry me.” he said then, calmly. “Never, ever. You overestimate yourself; you can’t blackmail me.” How could he possibly think that she would marry him now? But her heart beat faster, as it did the first time that he said he wanted to marry her.

Gregor let her hand go. “Let’s see how long you can hold out,” he said slowly and smiled again. “My career isn’t that important,” she said, sounding somewhat resigned. He felt sorry for her, but he mustn’t show or tell her that either.

“We’ll see, but you’ll come ‘round, and beware if you make another scene!” He raised his index finger, not intending to be serious any longer; he almost had to laugh as he thought about the scene, and it was difficult for him to keep a straight face.

He had missed her in the last weeks, and how keenly he felt her absence at night. No other woman could replace her, despite her faults, her wildness, and her craziness. He would be able to tame her.

He turned and went back to his guests. Zara stood there nonplussed, and watched him go. He can’t be serious, can he?

 

Zara called her father but he had recently become a father again, and after a few words it was clear that he really was not interested in helping her. Zara didn’t want to judge whether he wouldn’t or couldn’t, but she assumed that he was more interested in his new child.

 

One could hardly believe it – the blonde bimbo had given him a daughter. Zara actually had no interest in seeing the child, but at her father’s urgings, she became the baby’s godmother. Her father’s new wife came to Paris that summer, shortly before Zara finished her MBA without having found a job, and she was pressed into watching the little one so that her mother could go shopping.

How could she say no? Zara actually was quite different than her superficial, arrogant vanity might have one believe – but her young stepmother knew it; in her plain and simple way she had noticed that there was more to Zara than met the eye.

So there she was, sitting on a park bench in the Jardin du Luxembourg, the child in a tram next to her as she tried to read a book.

The little one was named Coralie and was a pretty blonde baby, although Zara thought she looked a little dumb, which she kept to herself. She would never mention it to her father and his wife.

 

And as it seemed to happen more often than not, Gregor always appeared when she felt her worst, like now.

He was in Paris again. He still hoped, even after half a year, that she would give up and return to him, now that he had set everything in motion, but she was really stronger than he expected, and she continued to hold out.

BOOK: Love under contract
7.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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