Fine things by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online Page A

girl?” She sounded pained, as though it were something he did all the time, although the truth was they had met none of his lady friends since Isabelle. None of them had lasted long enough to bother with.
    “Why should I bring a girl?”
    “Why wouldn't you? You never introduce us to your friends. Are you ashamed of us?”
    He almost groaned into the phone. “Of course not, Mom. Look, I've got to go. I'll see you next week. Seven o'clock, my place.” But he knew that repeating it wouldn't keep her from calling four more times just to make sure they were still on, that he hadn't changed the plans, that the reservation had been made, that he didn't want to bring a girl. “Give Dad my love.”
    “Call him sometime …You never call anymore …” She sounded like one of those jokes, and he smiled to himself as he hung up, wondering if he would be like her one day if he ever had kids, not that there seemed to be a danger of that anyway. There had been a girl the year before who had thought she was pregnant for several days, and for a moment he had considered letting her have the child, just so that he'd have a baby after all. But it turned out she'd been wrong anyway, and they were both relieved. But it had been an interesting thought for a day or two. He didn't want children desperately anyway. He was too involved in his career, and it always seemed a shame to him not to have a baby born of love. He was still idealistic about that, and there was certainly no likely candidate at the moment to fill that bill. He sat staring at the snow, thinking of what it would be like to give up his entire social life, to stop seeing all his favorite girls. It almost made him want to cry as he left the office that night, on a night that was as cold and clear as an icy crystal bell. He didn't try to catch a bus this time, and the wind had finally died down. He walked straight to Madison Avenue, and then walked uptown, glancing at the shops as he strode past rapidly. It wasn't snowing anymore, and it looked like a fairyland, as a few people skied past, and children threw snowballs. There hadn't even been any rush hour traffic to mess it all up, and he felt better as he walked into his house and rode the elevator upstairs. It was a hideous thought leaving New York now. He couldn't even imagine it. But he couldn't think of a way out. Unless he quit, and he didn't want to do that. There was no way out for him, he realized, as his heart seemed to fall against his ribs. No way out at all for him.

Chapter 3
    “You're going where?” His mother stared at him over her vi-chyssoise, and she seemed not to understand, as though he had said something truly ridiculous. Like he was joining a nudist colony, or having a sex change. “Are they firing you, or just demoting you?”
    He appreciated the vote of confidence, but that was typical. “Neither one, Mom. They're asking me to manage the new San Francisco store. It's the most important store we have, aside from New York.” He wondered why he was trying to sell it to her, except that he was still trying to sell it to himself. He had told Paul after two days, and he had been depressed about it ever since. They had given him a phenomenal raise, and Berman had reminded him that he would be running Wolffs himself one day. Perhaps not long after he returned to New York. And more important, he knew that Paul Berman was grateful to him, but still it was hard to take, and he wasn't looking forward to it. He had decided to keep his apartment anyway and sublet it for a year or two and just take something temporary in San Francisco. He had already told Paul that he wanted to try to be back in New York in a year. And they hadn't promised him anything, but he knew they would try. And even if it was eighteen months, he'd survive. Anything more than that was questionable, but he didn't say that to his mother now.
    “But San Francisco? They're all hippies out there. Do they even wear clothes?”
    He smiled.