She walked out her front door, and he was sitting there looking like a movie star in his brand-new red Ferrari. It was the one he had driven to Long Island the night before, which his entire family had politely ignored. His parents drove matching Mercedes, as did his sister-in-law and brother, his brother-in-law drove a BMW, and his sister didn't drive at all. She expected other people to turn their lives upside down, stop whatever they were doing, and drive her. As far as they were concerned, a Ferrari was so beyond the pale and so vulgar as to not even be worth discussing. But Adam loved it.
“Oh my God! Look at that car!” Maggie was standing there, looking at him, and jumping up and down on the sidewalk. Adam grinned while he watched her, and then opened the door and told her to get in. She had never seen anything like it, except in movies, and she was riding in it with him. She couldn't believe it. She wished that someone she knew could see them driving by. “Is this yours?” she asked him excitedly.
“No. I stole it.” He laughed at her. “Of course it's mine. Hell, let's face it, I went to Harvard.” They both laughed, and then she handed him a small package. “What's that?”
“A present for you. I went to the grocery store and got it for you this morning.” She had bought him a bottle of Tylenol in case he got another headache.
“That was nice of you,” he said, smiling at her. “I'll save it for the next time I see my mother.”
Adam drove through Central Park. It was a beautiful afternoon. He stopped on Third Avenue at a restaurant that had a sidewalk café and a garden. He ordered eggs Benedict for both of them, after she assured him that she liked them. She had never had them before, but they sounded good to her when he described them. Afterward, they sat at their table in the garden and drank wine, and when they finally left the restaurant, they went for a walk. She loved looking in the shop windows with him, and talking about the people he represented. He talked about his children, the demise of his marriage, and what an agony it had been for him, and then he talked about his two best friends, Charlie and Gray. By the end of the afternoon, she felt as though she knew everything about him, and she had cautiously told him some things about herself.
Maggie was more reserved than he was, and she seemed to prefer talking about him. She told him little anecdotes about her childhood, her foster parents, the people where she worked. But it was obvious to both of them, and always had been, that her life was a lot less exciting than his. Most of the time, all she did was eat, sleep, go to movies, and work. She didn't seem to have a lot of friends. She said she didn't have time to spend with them. She worked long hours at Pier 92, and she was vague when he asked what else she did with her time. She smiled and said, “Just work.” He was surprised at how easy it was being with her. She was nice to talk to, and although she'd led a simple life, she seemed wise in the ways of the world. She'd seen a lot, some of it none too pleasant, for a woman of twenty-six. She looked younger than she was, but she was a lot older in her head. Older even than Adam in some ways.
They got back in his car at six o'clock, and she was thinking to herself that she hated to see the day end. It was almost as though he read her mind. He turned to her with a hopeful expression. “How about if I barbecue some steaks for us on my terrace? How does that sound to you, Maggie?”
“Extremely good,” she said, beaming at him. He said he had some in the fridge.
She had only seen buildings like the one he lived in in movies. The doorman greeted them on the way in, and smiled at her. She was a pretty woman, and people looked at her everywhere they went. Adam pressed the elevator button marked Penthouse, and as soon as he let her into the apartment, she stood there in silence, staring at the view.
“Oh my God,” she said, just as she had about the Ferrari. “Just look at that.” He was on the thirty-second floor, and he had a wraparound terrace complete with hot tub, deck chairs, and barbecue. “This
“Just lucky, I guess.” He teased her. The thing that made him sad for her, now that he knew her better, was that it hadn't happened to her. It had happened to him. After dinner, she would have to go back to the miserable tenement where she lived. He hated the realities of her life, for her sake. She deserved so much more than fate had dished out to her. Some things really weren't fair. All he could do was give her a pleasant evening, feed her well, spend some time together, and send Maggie back to her own world. Nothing he did would change the stark realities for her, but the funny thing was, she didn't seem to mind. She didn't have a jealous bone in her body, and whatever facet of his life she saw or heard about, she was happy for him.
