Читать книгу A Liberal Temptation - Delilah Jay - Страница 5

“Yes, I’m listening. What did you just say honey? I can’t understand you. Bad line. Sure I’m in the office. Listen, I haven’t got time. I’m gonna be in a meeting in a minute. Let’s catch up later.” I hang up.

My office is close to San Francisco airport. My private jet charter business is booming as never before and my turnover raised about 130 per cent each year since the Taliban attack. It’s been a successful 9/11 for me! I look out the window and inhale the smell of kerosene deep into my lungs. In about an hour I will meet my lawyer for lunch. Oh yeah, soon I will make Edwina become Mrs. Edward D. Wilton IV! But hang on ... I’ll need some time for preparation. Four months until the wedding—that’s not long.

I met Edwina at that dinner party in Queen’s Club in London. She sat next to me at the table. The first question I ask any woman is: “How many doctors do you have?”

“What kind of question is that?” she asked me and laughed. “Two of course, a GP and well you know—one for these women things.” She blushed.

I kind of liked it. Yeah, she was Mrs. Right. She told me about the separation from her husband, about being in the middle of a divorce. She still got on perfectly well with her almost ex husband. Three sons they’ve together and one of them even is Eddie’s age. Edwina is a tiny spindly woman, I would say she almost appears anorexic thin. Not a beauty at all, no definitely not. She rather has the body of a young lad. Small breasts, no butt. She is blond and pale and she has that kind of sad sense of humor that always inspires my sympathy. She often laughs to hide her wish to burst out in tears. Before they got married she was her husband’s PA. Victor made career as a liberal Scottish lobbyist in England while she stayed at home. I liked that! She was used to be left by herself, looking after the children just waiting for her man. She is that kind of woman, satisfied with little: she wouldn’t go for my empire, oh no! Victor and she even shared the same lawyer in the divorce. That sounds loyal to me. I’m 68 years old and far to experienced to be a fool!

“Hello Edward! You made your way to Fillmore Street!”

Anthony taps on my shoulder.

We meet in the SPQR, an Italian restaurant of his choice.

I would have suggested something more common for having lunch with him. The place is very small and the tables are very close to each other. I don’t really like that for the kind of conversations I’m planning to have with my lawyer.

“The food is fantastic! Matthew Accarrino is the best Italian chef in town! The pasta is superb and the exquisite wines come from Italy—not only Nappa Valley!” Anthony laughs. Today is a Saturday and the restaurant is fully booked.

“Anthony, I’ll marry Edwina.” Anthony isn’t enthusiastic about it.

“I don’t believe you! You, Edward, you had more wives than Henry VIII! You found another one saying ‘yes’ to your proposal? How did you do that?” He isn’t joking at all. I know that. Since he rescued me from my marriage with Mary Grace he can’t stand the idea of me being married ever again.

“Edward, you know what another divorce could mean to you. You are wealthy enough for having a mistress in every single country of the world. Come on, why does it have to be a marriage again?”

We both keep silent.

“Have you chosen a starter?’

We stick our noses in the menu.

“She is the right one, Anthony!” I try to rise the subject again.

“They all were, Edward, including Mary Grace. Don’t forget how much it cost you to take your son Eddie away from her. Beware: Edwina might be a fabulous stepmother but he’ll grow up and will be older. Soon he’ll be at boarding school. It’ll be much easier for you. You don’t need a wife, Edward, you need a nanny for him. Or a few nannies. Forget about the marriage—you had more wives by now than you should have had.”