Master of the Game

Alexandra did not hear from George Mellis again. Not that day, or the next, or the rest of that week. Every time the phone rang, she rushed to pick it up, but she was always disappointed. She could not imagine what had gone wrong. She kept replaying the evening in her mind: I think you are the one woman who could change all that forever, and I telephoned my mother and father and brothers and told them about the wonderful woman I was with tonight. Alexandra went through a litany of reasons why he had not telephoned her.

She had offended him in some way without realizing it.

He liked her too much, was afraid of falling in love with her and had made up his mind never to see her again.

He had decided she was not his type.

He had been in a terrible accident and was lying helpless in a hospital somewhere.

He was dead.

When Alexandra could stand it no longer, she telephoned Eve. Alexandra forced herself to make small talk for a full minute before she blurted out, “Eve, you haven’t heard from George Mellis lately, by any chance, have you?”

“Why, no. I thought he was going to call you about dinner.”

“We did have dinner—last week.”

“And you haven’t heard from him since?”

“No.”

“He’s probably busy.”

No one is that busy, Alexandra thought. Aloud she said, “Probably.”

“Forget about George Mellis, darling. There’s a very attractive Canadian I’d like you to meet. He owns an airline and…”

When Eve had hung up, she sat back, smiling. She wished her grandmother could have known how beautifully she had planned everything.

“Hey, what’s eating you?” Alice Koppel asked.

“I’m sorry,” Alexandra replied.

She had been snapping at everyone all morning. It had been two full weeks since she had heard from George Mellis, and Alexandra was angry—not with him, but with herself for not being able to forget him. He owed her nothing. They were strangers who had shared an evening together, and she was acting as though she expected him to marry her, for God’s sake. George Mellis could have any woman in the world. Why on earth would he want her?

Even her grandmother had noticed how irritable she had become. “What’s the matter with you, child? Are they working you too hard at that agency?”

“No, Gran. It’s just that I—I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

When she did sleep, she had erotic dreams about George Mellis. Damn him! She wished Eve had never introduced him to her.

The call came at the office the following afternoon. “Alex? George Mellis.” As though she didn’t hear that deep voice in her dreams.

“Alex? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here.” She was filled with mixed emotions. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. He was a thoughtless, selfish egotist, and she did not care whether she ever saw him again.

“I wanted to call you sooner,” George apologized, “but I just returned from Athens a few minutes ago.”

Alexandra’s heart melted. “You’ve been in Athens?”

“Yes. Remember the evening we had dinner together?”

Alexandra remembered.

“The next morning Steve, my brother, telephoned me—My father had a heart attack.”

“Oh, George!” She felt so guilty for having thought such terrible things about him. “How is he?”

“He’s going to be all right, thank God. But I felt as though I was being torn in pieces. He begged me to come back to Greece and take over the family business.”

“Are you going to?” She was holding her breath.

“No.”

She exhaled.

“I know now that my place is here. There isn’t one day or one hour that’s gone by that I haven’t thought about you. When can I see you?”

Now! “I’m free for dinner this evening.”

He was almost tempted to name another of Alexandra’s favorite restaurants. Instead he said, “Wonderful. Where would you like to dine?”

“Anywhere. I don’t care. Would you like to have dinner at the house?”

“No.” He was not ready to meet Kate yet. Whatever you do, stay away from Kate Blackwell for now. She’s your biggest obstacle. “I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock,” George told her.

Alexandra hung up, kissed Alice Koppel, Vince Barnes and Marty Bergheimer and said, “I’m off to the hairdresser. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

They watched her race out of the office.

“It’s a man,” Alice Koppel said.

They had dinner at Maxwell’s Plum. A captain led them past the crowded horseshoe bar near the front door and up the stairs to the dining room. They ordered.

“Did you think about me while I was away?” George asked.

“Yes.” She felt she had to be completely honest with this man—this man who was so open, so vulnerable. “When I didn’t hear from you, I thought something terrible might have happened. I—I got panicky. I don’t think I could have stood it another day.”

Full marks for Eve, George thought. Sit tight, Eve had said. I’ll tell you when to call her. For the first time George had the feeling the plan really was going to work. Until now he had let it nibble at the edges of his mind, toying with the idea of controlling the incredible Blackwell fortune, but he had not really dared believe it. It had been merely a game that he and Eve had been playing. Looking at Alexandra now, seated across from him, her eyes filled with naked adoration, George Mellis knew it was no longer just a game. Alexandra was his. That was the first step in the plan. The other steps might be dangerous, but with Eve’s help, he would handle them.

We’re in this together all the way, George, and we’ll share everything right down the middle.

George Mellis did not believe in partners. When he had what he wanted, when he had disposed of Alexandra, then he would take care of Eve. That thought gave him enormous pleasure.

“You’re smiling,” Alexandra said.

He put his hand over hers, and his touch warmed her. “I was thinking how nice it was our being here together. About our being anywhere together.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jewel box. “I brought something for you from Greece.”

“Oh, George…”

“Open it, Alex.”

Inside the box was an exquisite diamond necklace.

“It’s beautiful.”

It was the one he had taken from Eve. It’s safe to give it to her, Eve had told him. She’s never seen it.

“It’s too much. Really.”

“It’s not nearly enough. I’ll enjoy watching you wear it.”

“I—” Alexandra was trembling. “Thank you.”

He looked at her plate. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He saw the look in her eyes again and felt the familiar soaring sense of power. He had seen that look in the eyes of so many women: beautiful women, ugly women, rich women, poor women. He had used them. In one way or another, they had all given him something. But this one was going to give him more than all of them put together.

“What would you like to do?” His husky voice was an invitation.

She accepted it, simply and openly. “I want to be with you.”

George Mellis had every right to be proud of his apartment. It was a tasteful jewel of a place, furnished by grateful lovers—men and women—who had tried to buy his affection with expensive gifts, and had succeeded, always temporarily.

“It’s a lovely apartment,” Alexandra exclaimed.

He went over to her and slowly turned her around so that the diamond necklace twinkled in the subdued lighting of the room. “It becomes you, darling.”

And he kissed her gently, and then more urgently, and Alexandra was hardly aware when he led her into the bedroom. The room was done in tones of blue, with tasteful, masculine furniture. In the center of the room stood a large, king-size bed. George took Alexandra in his arms again and found that she was shaking. “Are you all right, kale’ mou?”

“I—I’m a little nervous.” She was terrified that she would disappoint this man. She took a deep breath and started to unbutton her dress.

George whispered, “Let me.” He began to undress the exquisite blonde standing before him, and he remembered Eve’s words: Control yourself. If you hurt Alexandra, if she finds out what a pig you really are, you’ll never see her again. Do you understand that? Save your fists for your whores and your pretty little boys.

And so George tenderly undressed Alexandra and studied her nakedness. Her body was exactly the same as Eve’s: beautiful and ripe and full. He had an overwhelming desire to bruise the white, delicate skin; to hit her, choke her, make her scream. If you hurt her, you’ll never see her again.

He undressed and drew Alexandra close to his body. They stood there together, looking into each other’s eyes, and then George gently led Alexandra to the bed and began to kiss her, slowly and lovingly, his tongue and fingers expertly exploring every crevice of her body until she was unable to wait another moment.

“Oh, please,” she said. “Now. Now!”

He mounted her then, and she was plunged into an ecstasy that was almost unbearable. When finally Alexandra lay still in his arms and sighed, “Oh, my darling. I hope it was as wonderful for you,” he lied and said, “It was.”

She held him close and wept, and she did not know why she was weeping, only that she was grateful for the glory and the joy of it.

“There, there,” George said soothingly. “Everything is marvelous.”

And it was.

Eve would have been so proud of him.

In every love affair, there are misunderstandings, jealousies, small hurts, but not in the romance between George and Alexandra. With Eve’s careful coaching, George was able to play skillfully on Alexandra’s every emotion. George knew Alexandra’s fears, her fantasies, her passions and aversions, and he was always there, ready to give her exactly what she needed. He knew what made her laugh, and what made her cry. Alexandra was thrilled by his lovemaking, but George found it frustrating. When he was in bed with Alexandra, listening to her animal cries, her excitement aroused him to a fever pitch. He wanted to savage her, make her scream for mercy so he could have his own relief. But he knew if he did that he would destroy everything. His frustration kept growing. The more they made love, the more he grew to despise Alexandra.

There were certain places where George Mellis could find satisfaction, but he knew he had to be cautious. Late at night he haunted anonymous singles’ bars and gay discos, and he picked up lonely widows looking for an evening’s comfort, gay boys hungry for love, prostitutes hungry for money. George took them to a series of seedy hotels on the West Side, in the Bowery and in Greenwich Village. He never returned to the same hotel twice, nor would he have been welcomed back. His sexual partners usually were found either unconscious or semiconscious, their bodies battered and sometimes covered with cigarette burns.

George avoided masochists. They enjoyed the pain he inflicted, and that took away his pleasure. No, he had to hear them scream and beg for mercy, as his father had made him scream and beg for mercy when George was a small boy. His punishments for the smallest infractions were beatings that often left him unconscious. When George was eight years old and his father caught him and a neighbor’s son naked together, George’s father beat him until the blood ran from his ears and nose, and to make sure the boy never sinned again, his father pressed a lighted cigar to George’s penis. The scar healed, but the deeper scar inside festered.

George Mellis had the wild, passionate nature of his Hellenic ancestors. He could not bear the thought of being controlled by anyone. He put up with the taunting humiliation Eve Blackwell inflicted upon him only because he needed her. When he had the Blackwell fortune in his hands, he intended to punish her until she begged him to kill her. Meeting Eve was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him. Lucky for me, George mused. Unlucky for her.

Alexandra continually marveled at how George always knew just what flowers to send her, what records to buy, what books would please her. When he took her to a museum, he was excited about the same paintings she loved. It was incredible to Alexandra how identical their tastes were. She looked for a single flaw in George Mellis, and she could find none. He was perfect. She grew more and more eager for Kate to meet him.

But George always found an excuse to avoid meeting Kate Blackwell.

“Why, darling? You’ll love her. Besides, I want to show you off.”

“I’m sure she’s wonderful,” George said boyishly. “I’m terrified she’ll think I’m not good enough for you.”

“That’s ridiculous!” His modesty touched her. “Gran will adore you.”

“Soon,” he told Alexandra. “As soon as I get up my courage.”

He discussed it with Eve one night.

She thought about it. “All right. You’ll have to get it over with sooner or later. But you’ll have to watch yourself every second. She’s a bitch, but she’s a smart bitch. Don’t underestimate her for a second. If she suspects you’re after anything, she’ll cut your heart out and feed it to her dogs.”

“Why do we need her?” George asked.

“Because if you do anything to make Alexandra antagonize her, we’ll all be out in the cold.”

Alexandra had never been so nervous. They were going to dine together for the first time, George and Kate and Alexandra, and Alexandra prayed that nothing would go wrong. She wanted more than anything in the world for her grandmother and George to like each other, for her grandmother to see what a wonderful person George was and for George to appreciate Kate Blackwell.

Kate had never seen her granddaughter so happy. Alexandra had met some of the most eligible young men in the world, and none of them had interested her. Kate intended to take a very close look at the man who had captivated her granddaughter. Kate had had long years of experience with fortune hunters, and she had no intention of allowing Alexandra to be taken in by one.

She was eagerly looking forward to meeting Mr. George Mellis. She had a feeling he had been reluctant to meet her, and she wondered why.

Kate heard the front doorbell ring, and a minute later Alexandra came into the drawing room leading a tall, classically handsome stranger by the hand.

“Gran, this is George Mellis.”

“At last,” Kate said. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Mr. Mellis.”

“On the contrary, Mrs. Blackwell, you have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this moment.” He was about to say, “You’re even more beautiful than Alex told me,” but he stopped himself.

Be careful. No flattery, George. It’s like a red flag to the old lady.

A butler came in, fixed drinks and discreetly withdrew.

“Please sit down, Mr. Mellis.”

“Thank you.”

Alexandra sat beside him on the couch, facing her grandmother.

“I understand you’ve been seeing quite a bit of my granddaughter.”

“That’s been my pleasure, yes.”

Kate was studying him with her pale-gray eyes. “Alexandra tells me you’re employed by a brokerage firm.”

“Yes.”

“Frankly, I find it strange, Mr. Mellis, that you should choose to work as a salaried employee when you could be heading a very profitable family business.”

“Gran, I explained that—”

“I would like to hear it from Mr. Mellis, Alexandra.”

Be polite, but for Christ’s sake, don’t kowtow to her. If you show the slightest sign of weakness, she’ll tear you apart.

“Mrs. Blackwell, I’m not in the habit of discussing my personal life.” He hesitated, as though making a decision. “However, under the circumstances, I suppose…” He looked Kate Blackwell in the eye and said, “I’m a very independent man. I don’t accept charity. If I had founded Mellis and Company, I would be running it today. But it was founded by my grandfather and built into a very profitable business by my father. It does not need me. I have three brothers who are perfectly capable of running it. I prefer being a salaried employee, as you call it, until I find something that I can build up myself and take pride in.”

Kate nodded slowly. This man was not what she had expected at all. She had been prepared for a playboy, a fortune hunter, the kind who had been pursuing her granddaughters ever since Kate could remember. This one appeared to be different. And yet, there was something disturbing about him that Kate could not define. He seemed almost too perfect.

“I understand your family is wealthy.”

All she has to believe is that you’re filthy rich, and madly in love with Alex. Be charming. Keep your temper under control, and you’ve got it made.

“Money is a necessity, of course, Mrs. Blackwell. But there are a hundred things that interest me more.”

Kate had checked on the net worth of Mellis and Company. According to the Dun & Bradstreet report, it was in excess of thirty million dollars.

“Are you close to your family, Mr. Mellis?”

George’s face lighted up. “Perhaps too close.” He allowed a smile to play on his lips. “We have a saying in our family, Mrs. Blackwell. When one of us cuts his finger, the rest of us bleed. We are in touch with each other constantly.” He had not spoken to any member of his family for more than three years.

Kate nodded approvingly. “I believe in closely knit families.”

Kate glanced at her granddaughter. There was a look of adoration on Alexandra’s face. For one fleeting instant, it reminded Kate of herself and David in those long-ago days when they were so much in love. The years had not dimmed the memory of how she had felt.

Lester came into the room. “Dinner is served, madame.”

The conversation at dinner seemed more casual, but Kate’s questions were pointed. George was prepared for the most important question when it came.

“Do you like children, Mr. Mellis?”

She’s desperate for a great-grandson…She wants that more than anything in the world

George turned toward Kate in surprise. “Like children? What is a man without sons and daughters? I am afraid that when I marry, my poor wife will be kept very busy. In Greece, a man’s worth is measured by the number of children he has sired.”

He seems genuine, Kate thought. But, one can’t be too careful. Tomorrow I’ll have Brad Rogers run a check on his personal finances.

Before Alexandra went to bed, she telephoned Eve. She had told Eve that George Mellis was coming to dinner.

“I can’t wait to hear all about it, darling,” Eve had said. “You must call me the moment he leaves. I want a full report.”

And now Alexandra was reporting. “I think Gran liked him a lot.”

Eve felt a small frisson of satisfaction. “What did she say?”

“She asked George a hundred personal questions. He handled himself beautifully.”

So he had behaved.

“Ah! Are you two lovebirds going to get married?”

“I—He hasn’t asked me yet, Eve, but I think he’s going to.”

She could hear the happiness in Alexandra’s voice. “And Gran will approve?”

“Oh, I’m sure she will. She’s going to check on George’s personal finances, but of course that will be no problem.”

Eve felt her heart lurch.

Alexandra was saying, “You know how cautious Gran is.”

“Yes,” Eve said slowly. “I know.”

They were finished Unless she could think of something quickly.

“Keep me posted,” Eve said.

“I will. Good night.”

The moment Eve replaced the receiver, she dialed George Mellis’s number. He had not reached home yet. She called him every ten minutes, and when he finally answered Eve said, “Can you get your hands on a million dollars in a hurry?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Kate is checking out your finances.”

“She knows what my family is worth. She—”

“I’m not talking about your family. I’m talking about you. I told you she’s no fool.”

There was a silence. “Where would I get hold of a million dollars?”

“I have an idea,” Eve told him.

When Kate arrived at her office the following morning, she said to her assistant, “Ask Brad Rogers to run a personal financial check on George Mellis. He’s employed by Hanson and Hanson.”

“Mr. Rogers is out of town until tomorrow, Mrs. Blackwell. Can it wait until then or—?”

“Tomorrow will be fine.”

At the lower end of Manhattan on Wall Street, George Mellis was seated at his desk at the brokerage firm of Hanson and Hanson. The stock exchanges were open, and the huge office was a bedlam of noise and activity. There were 225 employees working at the firm’s headquarters: brokers, analysts, accountants, operators and customer representatives, and everyone was working at a feverish speed. Except for George Mellis. He was frozen at his desk, in a panic. What he was about to do would put him in prison if he failed. If he succeeded, he would own the world.

“Aren’t you going to answer your phone?”

One of the partners was standing over him, and George realized that his phone had been ringing for—how long? He must act normally and not do anything that might arouse suspicion. He scooped up the phone. “George Mellis,” and smiled reassuringly at the partner.

George spent the morning taking buy and sell orders, but his mind was on Eve’s plan to steal a million dollars. It’s simple, George. All you have to do is borrow some stock certificates for one night. You can return them in the morning, and no one will be the wiser.

Every stock brokerage firm has millions of dollars in stocks and bonds stored in its vaults as a convenience to customers. Some of the stock certificates bear the name of the owner, but the vast majority are street-name stocks with a coded CUSIP number—the Committee on Uniform Security Identification Procedures—that identifies the owner. The stock certificates are not negotiable, but George Mellis did not plan to cash them in. He had something else in mind. At Hanson and Hanson, the stocks were kept in a huge vault on the seventh floor in a security area guarded by an armed policeman in front of a gate that could only be opened by a coded plastic access card. George Mellis had no such card. But he knew someone who did.

Helen Thatcher was a lonely widow in her forties. She had a pleasant face and a reasonably good figure, and she was a remarkable cook. She had been married for twenty-three years, and the death of her husband had left a void in her life. She needed a man to take care of her. Her problem was that most of the women who worked at Hanson and Hanson were younger than she, and more attractive to the brokers at the office. No one asked Helen out.

She worked in the accounting department on the floor above George Mellis. From the first time Helen had seen George, she had decided he would make a perfect husband for her. Half a dozen times she had invited him to a home-cooked evening, as she phrased it, and had hinted that he would be served more than dinner, but George had always found an excuse. On this particular morning, when her telephone rang and she said, “Accounting, Mrs. Thatcher,” George Mellis’s voice came over the line. “Helen? This is George.” His voice was warm, and she thrilled to it. “What can I do for you, George?”

“I have a little surprise for you. Can you come down to my office?”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid I’m in the middle of—”

“Oh, if you’re too busy, never mind. It will keep.”

“No, no. I—I’ll be right down.”

George’s phone was ringing again. He ignored it. He picked up a handful of papers and walked toward the bank of elevators. Looking around to make sure no one was observing him, he walked past the elevators and took the backstairs. When he reached the floor above, he checked to make sure Helen had left her office, then casually walked in as though he had business there. If he was caught—But he could not think of that. He opened the middle drawer where he knew Helen kept her access card to the vault. There it was. He picked it up, slipped it in his pocket, left the office and hurried downstairs. When he reached his desk, Helen was there, looking around for him.

“Sorry,” George said. “I was called away for a minute.”

“Oh, that’s all right. Tell me what the surprise is.”

“Well, a little bird told me it’s your birthday,” George said, “and I want to take you to lunch today.” He watched the expression on her face. She was torn between telling him the truth and missing the chance of a lunch date with him.

“That’s—very nice of you,” she said. “I’d love to have lunch with you.”

“All right,” he told her. “I’ll meet you at Tony’s at one o’clock.” It was a date he could have made with her over the telephone, but Helen Thatcher was too thrilled to even question it. He watched as she left.

The minute she was gone, George went into action. He had a lot to accomplish before he returned the plastic card. He took the elevator to the seventh floor and walked over to the security area where the guard stood in front of the closed grilled gate. George inserted the plastic card and the gate opened. As he started inside, the guard said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

George’s heart began to beat faster. He smiled. “No. This isn’t my usual territory. One of my customers suddenly decided he wanted to see his stock certificates, so I’ve got to dig them out. I hope it doesn’t take me the whole blasted afternoon.”

The guard smiled sympathetically. “Good luck.” He watched as George walked into the vault.

The room was concrete, thirty feet by fifteen feet. George walked back to the fireproof file cabinets that contained the stocks and opened the steel drawers. Inside were hundreds of stock certificates that represented shares of every company on the New York and American stock exchanges. The number of shares represented by each certificate was printed on the face of the certificate and ranged from one share to one hundred thousand shares. George went through them swiftly and expertly. He selected certificates of various blue-chip companies, representing a value of one million dollars. He slipped the pieces of paper into his inside jacket pocket, closed the drawer and walked back to the guard.

“That was fast,” the guard said.

George shook his head. “The computers came up with the wrong numbers. I’ll have to straighten it out in the morning.”

“Those damned computers,” the guard commiserated. “They’ll be the ruination of us all yet.”

When George returned to his desk, he found he was soaked with perspiration. But so far so good. He picked up the telephone and called Alexandra.

“Darling,” he said, “I want to see you and your grandmother tonight.”

“I thought you had a business engagement tonight, George.”

“I did, but I canceled it. I have something very important to tell you.”

At exactly 1:00 P.M. George was in Helen Thatcher’s office returning the access card to her desk drawer, while she waited for him at the restaurant. He desperately wanted to hang on to the card, for he would need it again, but he knew that every card that was not turned in each night was invalidated by the computer the next morning. At ten minutes past one, George was lunching with Helen Thatcher.

He took her hand in his. “I want us to do this more often,” George said, looking at her searchingly. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow?”

She beamed. “Oh, yes, George.”

When George Mellis walked out of his office that afternoon, he was carrying with him one-million-dollars’ worth of stock certificates.

He arrived at the Blackwell house promptly at seven o’clock and was ushered into the library, where Kate and Alexandra were waiting for him.

“Good evening,” George said. “I hope this is not an intrusion, but I had to speak to you both.” He turned to Kate. “I know this is very old-fashioned of me, Mrs. Blackwell, but I would like your permission for your granddaughter’s hand in marriage. I love Alexandra, and I believe she loves me. But it would make both of us happy if you would give us your blessing.” He reached into his jacket pocket, brought out the stock certificates and tossed them on the table in front of Kate. “I’m giving her a million dollars as a wedding present. She won’t need any of your money. But we both need your blessing.”

Kate glanced down at the stock certificates George had carelessly scattered on the table. She recognized the names of every one of the companies. Alexandra had moved to George, her eyes shining. “Oh, darling!” She turned to her grandmother, her eyes imploring, “Gran?”

Kate looked at the two of them standing together, and there was no way she could deny them. For a brief instant, she envied them. “You have my blessing,” she said.

George grinned and walked over to Kate. “May I?” He kissed her on the cheek.

For the next two hours they talked excitedly about wedding plans. “I don’t want a large wedding, Gran,” Alexandra said. “We don’t have to do that, do we?”

“I agree,” George replied. “Love is a private matter.”

In the end, they decided on a small ceremony, with a judge marrying them.

“Will your father be coming over for the wedding?” Kate inquired.

George laughed. “You couldn’t keep him away. My father, my three brothers and my two sisters will all be here.”

“I’ll be looking forward to meeting them.”

“You’ll like them, I know.” Then his eyes turned back to Alexandra.

Kate was very touched by the whole evening. She was thrilled for her granddaughter—pleased that she was getting a man who loved her so much. I must remember, Kate thought, to tell Brad not to bother about that financial rundown on George.

Before George left, and he was alone with Alexandra, he said casually, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to have a million dollars in securities lying around the house. I’ll put them in my safe-deposit box for now.”

“Would you?” Alexandra asked.

George picked up the certificates and put them back into his jacket pocket.

The following morning George repeated the procedure with Helen Thatcher. While she was on her way downstairs to see him (“I have a little something for you”), he was in her office getting the access card. He gave her a Gucci scarf—”a belated birthday present”—and confirmed his luncheon date with her. This time getting into the vault seemed easier. He replaced the stock certificates, returned the access card and met Helen Thatcher at a nearby restaurant.

She held his hand and said, “George, why don’t I fix a nice dinner for the two of us tonight?”

And George replied, “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Helen. I’m getting married.”

Three days before the wedding ceremony was to take place, George arrived at the Blackwell house, his face filled with distress. “I’ve just had terrible news,” he said. “My father suffered another heart attack.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Kate said. “Is he going to be all right?”

“I’ve been on the phone with the family all night. They think he’ll pull through, but of course they won’t be able to attend the wedding.”

“We could go to Athens on our honeymoon and see them,” Alexandra suggested.

George stroked her cheek. “I have other plans for our honeymoon, matia mou. No family, just us.”

The marriage ceremony was held in the drawing room of the Blackwell mansion. There were fewer than a dozen guests in attendance, among them Vince Barnes, Alice Koppel and Marty Bergheimer. Alexandra had pleaded with her grandmother to let Eve attend the wedding, but Kate was adamant. “Your sister will never be welcome in this house again.”

Alexandra’s eyes filled with tears. “Gran, you’re being cruel. I love you both. Can’t you forgive her?”

For an instant, Kate was tempted to blurt out the whole story of Eve’s disloyalty, but she stopped herself. “I’m doing what I think is best for everyone.”

A photographer took pictures of the ceremony, and Kate heard George ask him to make up some extra prints to send to his family. What a considerate man he is, Kate thought.

After the cake-cutting ceremony, George whispered to Alexandra, “Darling, I’m going to have to disappear for an hour or so.”

“Is anything wrong?”

“Of course not. But the only way I could persuade the office to let me take time off for our honeymoon was to promise to finish up some business for an important client. I won’t be long. Our plane doesn’t leave until five o’clock.”

She smiled. “Hurry back. I don’t want to go on our honeymoon without you.”

When George arrived at Eve’s apartment, she was waiting for him, wearing a filmy negligee. “Did you enjoy your wedding, darling?”

“Yes, thank you. It was small but elegant. It went off without a hitch.”

“Do you know why, George? Because of me. Never forget that.”

He looked at her and said slowly, “I won’t.”

“We’re partners all the way.”

“Of course.”

Eve smiled. “Well, well. So you’re married to my little sister.”

George looked at his watch. “Yes. And I must get back.”

“Not yet,” Eve told him.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going to make love to me first, darling. I want to fuck my sister’s husband.”