I'm a corporate attorney...I don't deal with unions.
Martin shook hands with the mayor's assistant and some of the union officials there, then went up to Lara.
"I'm glad you could come," Lara said.
Paul Martin looked around at the huge building and said, "Congratulations. You've done a good job."
"Thank you." She lowered her voice. "And I do mean thank you."
He was staring at her, bemused by how ravishing Lara looked and the way he felt, looking at her.
"The party's almost over," Lara said. "I was hoping you would take me to dinner."
"I told you, I have dinner with my wife and children." He was looking into her eyes. "I'll buy you a drink."
Lara smiled. "That will do nicely."
They stopped at a small bar on Third Avenue. They talked, but afterward neither of them would remember what they talked about. The words were camouflage for the sexual tension between them.
"Tell me about yourself," Paul Martin said. "Who are you? Where are you from? How did you get started in this business?"
Lara thought of Sean MacAllister and his repulsive body on top of hers. "That was so good we're going to do it again."
"I came from a little town in Nova Scotia," Lara said. "Glace Bay. My father collected rents from some boardinghouses there. When he died, I took over. One of the boarders helped me buy a lot, and I put up a building on it. That was the beginning."
He was listening closely.
"After that I went to Chicago and developed some buildings there. I did well and came to New York." She smiled. "That's really the whole story." Except for the agony of growing up with a father who hated her, the shame of poverty, of never owning anything, the giving of her body to Sean MacAllister...
As though reading her mind, Paul Martin said, "I'll bet it wasn't really all that easy, was it?"
"I'm not complaining."
"What's your next project?"
Lara shrugged. "I'm not sure. I've looked at a lot of possibilities, but there's nothing I'm really wild about."
He could not take his eyes off her.
"What are you thinking?" Lara asked.
He took a deep breath. "The truth? I was thinking that if I weren't married, I would tell you that you're one of the most exciting women I've ever met. But I am married, so you and I are going to be just friends. Do I make myself clear?"
"Very clear."
He looked at his watch. "Time to go." He turned to the waiter. "Check, please." He rose to his feet.
"Can we have lunch next week?" Lara asked.
"No. Maybe I'll see you again when your next building is finished."
And he was gone.
That night Lara dreamed they were making love. Paul Martin was on top of her, stroking her body with his hands and whispering in her ear.
"You ken, I maun hae ye, and onie ye...Gue forgie me, my bonnie darlin', for I've niver tauld you how mickle I love ye, love ye, love ye..."
And then he was inside her and her body was suddenly molten. She moaned, and her moans awakened her. She sat up in bed, trembling.
Two days later Paul Martin telephoned. "I think I have a location you might be interested in," he said crisply. "It's over on the West Side, on Sixty-ninth Street. It's not on the market yet. It belongs to a client of mine who wants to sell."
Lara and Howard Keller went to look at it that morning. It was a prime piece of property.
"How did you hear about this?" Keller asked.
"Paul Martin."
"Oh, I see." There was disapproval in his voice.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Lara...I checked on Martin. He's Mafia. Stay away from him."
She said indignantly, "He has nothing to do with the Mafia. He's a good friend. Anyway, what does that have to do with this site? Do you like it?"
"I think it's great."
"Then let's buy it."
Ten days later they closed the deal.
Lara sent Paul Martin a large bouquet of flowers. There was a note attached: "Paul - please don't send these back. They're very sensitive."
She received a call from him that afternoon.
"Thanks for the flowers. I'm not used to getting flowers from beautiful women." His voice sounded gruffer than usual.
"Do you know your problem?" Lara asked. "No one has ever spoiled you enough."
"Is that what you want to do, spoil me?"
"Rotten."
Paul laughed.
"I mean it."
"I know you do."
"Why don't we talk about it at lunch?" Lara asked.
Paul Martin had not been able to get Lara out of his mind. He knew that he could easily fall in love with her. There was a vulnerability about her, an innocence, and, at the same time, something wildly sensual. He knew that he would be smart never to see her again, but he was unable to control himself. He was drawn to her by something more powerful than his will.
They had lunch at the "21" Club.
"When you're trying to hide something," Paul Martin advised, "always do it out in the open. Then no one will believe you're doing anything wrong."
"Are we trying to hide something?" Lara asked softly.
He looked at her and made his decision. She's beautiful and smart, but so are a thousand other women. It will be easy to get her out of my system. I'll go to bed with her once, and that will be the end of it.
As it turned out, he was wrong.
When they arrived at Lara's apartment, Paul was unaccountably nervous.
"I feel like a fuckin' schoolboy," Paul said. "I'm out of practice."