Lipstick Jungle

lking into his living room. “Women like me, they’re crazy about me, and then, I don’t know. Something happens and they don’t want to be with me anymore.”

Nico nodded in what she hoped was a sympathetic manner, and glanced surreptitiously at her watch. It was nearly ten-thirty. She’d left the party at ten, when Seymour had taken Katrina home, telling him she had to stop by her office for a moment, where she and Victory and Wendy had agreed to meet for a private celebration afterward. Seymour wasn’t suspicious, but to make sure he wasn’t, she needed to take care of this situation with Kirby, and then she really did have to get back to her office and call Seymour from the phone at her desk. Her heart thumped with urgency. Now that she was here and the end was inevitable, all she wanted was to get it over with quickly, and leave.

“I’m sorry, Kirby,” she said, which sounded completely lame, but what else was there to say? She took a few steps toward him. He was wearing jeans and was shirtless, as if she’d caught him in the middle of changing.

“I thought you and I were different,” he said. He stood at the window with his back to her, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. She hoped he wasn’t going to make a scene.

She swallowed. “Kirby, you knew I was married.”

“So?” he said, spinning around.

“So, I do love my husband, Kirby. He’s a wonderful man. And I don’t want to hurt him.”

This sounded like a prepared speech, and Kirby nodded, as if he’d heard it all before. She crossed her arms with slight irritation. She probably shouldn’t have come at all; she probably should have done what a man would have, which was to simply stop calling, and inform her assistants that if Kirby called her, she was “out.” But that seemed like such a messy and cowardly solution.

“So you used me to find that out,” Kirby said.

“Oh Kirby.” She perched on the edge of the couch and stared at the wall. She could hardly bear to look at him either. She felt guilty, and the guilt made her feel annoyed. She tightened her lips. Had she used Kirby to discover her real feelings for Seymour? She hadn’t intended it that way. She hadn’t known what she was intending when she began the affair with Kirby; she only knew that she’d felt like something in her life was missing. As usual, it had turned out that the missing piece wasn’t another person, or something that she could get from someone else. All she knew now was that every little bit of her felt filled up, and there wasn’t any space for Kirby anymore.

She forced herself to look at him. “If that’s how it feels to you, Kirby, I am sorry. I never meant it that way,” she said. “I thought we were friends, and were just having fun.” Oh God, she thought, that really does sound like a man.

“Fun?” he said.

“Kirby,” she began again. “You’re wonderful, and you’re a young man. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need me in it.” And now I sound like his mother, she thought. “This can’t really be that big a deal.”

“I don’t get it,” Kirby said, turning back to the window. “Maybe I’m missing something. You know, this town sucks.” And after a moment, he exclaimed, “Hey. Did you know that it’s snowing?”

* * *

WELL, NICO THOUGHT, PULLING on her gloves. I just gave a man $5,000 not to have sex with me.

The thought both mildly amused her and made her slightly sad at the same time.

“Home, Mrs. O’Neilly?” Dimitri asked from the driver’s seat, eyeing her in the rearview mirror.

“I’ve got to go back to the office for a minute,” she said, and after a moment, added, “I’m sorry, Dimitri. This is a long day for you. I’m sure you want to go home as well.”

“I like being in the city,” Dimitri said, carefully steering the car out of the driveway in front of Kirby’s building and onto Seventy-ninth Street. “And besides, you’ve gotta work. You gotta do what you gotta do in this town, right?”

“That’s true,” Nico said, feeling guilty again. She looked out the tinted window. Snow was coming down in tiny, glittery flakes, like a shower of diamonds. But it’s over, she corrected herself. She had ended it, and she wouldn’t ever do it again. So, the fact was, she really didn’t need to feel guilty anymore.

What a relief!

Now all she had to do was pray that Seymour would never discover that check she had written to Kirby. But he wouldn’t. She had written the check from her personal and private checking account, and Seymour would consider it beneath him to snoop. And with a tiny smile, she recalled the moment when she’d handed Kirby the check.

“How come nobody ever loves me,” Kirby was moaning, walking in a circle around his living room as he ran his hands over his bare chest. “I’m twenty-eight years old. I want to get married and have kids. Where’s my woman?”

“Oh, please, Kirby,” she finally said, standing up and picking up her bag. “There are hundreds of young women who, I’m sure, are dying to fall in love with you. And if you want to get married, you shouldn’t be wasting your time with women who are already married.”

“So it really is over?” Kirby asked.

“Yes, Kirby. I’m afraid it is.” And then she had taken a check out of her wallet. Naturally, Kirby had protested. “You don’t have to do that,” he said insistently. “I’m not something you can pay off.”

“Don’t be silly, darling,” she said. “It’s not a payment. It’s a present.” And despite his protests, he had taken the check anyway. And then he’d looked at it, his eyes widening at the amount. He folded it up and put it in his back pocket. “Are you sure you don’t want to . . . one more time,” he said, gesturing with his hand. “For old-times’ sake?”

“No, thank you, Kirby,” she said. “I really don’t think it would be a good idea.”

Then she’d walked briskly down the long narrow hallway to the elevator, thinking this was the last time she’d ever be making that journey. Phew.