Free Love in Vogue by Eve Bourton Page A

her. No one to make love to her, no arms to hold her. Nothing to distract her from the thought that she was never going to have a child. She could leave him, find someone else. No, she couldn’t. Walk out and leave him with his failure? Poor Hank, who had everything but the power to get her pregnant. She loved him. They were often apart, but they always missed each other, kept saying it was bad and next year they would do something about it. But somehow they never did.
    Althea quickly undressed and showered, then slipped between the sheets, flipped on the bedside lamp, and picked up a magazine from the pile. Couldn’t focus, couldn’t be bothered to read. She tossed the magazine onto the floor and buried her face in the pillows. When Juanita looked in half- an hour later to see if she wanted a nightcap, Althea was still sobbing.
    A grey September morning was breaking over Central Park as Tex Beidecker sprinted across the gracious drawing-room of his Fifth Avenue apartment to answer the telephone.
    ‘It’s Yolande for you, Grace!’ he shouted.
    There was a torrent of words from the other end of the line.
    Tex smiled. ‘How are you, baby? I’m good. Of course it’s early here! You’re coming over? That’s great – yes, we’d love to. Patrick? Of course it’ll be fine. He’s the actor, right? He’s going to audition for Vic Bernitz? Wow, that’s impressive. Look, your mother’s here. Give my love to Corinne, won’t you?’
    Grace Beidecker emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and took the receiver. He kissed her cheek, then went off to finish sorting papers for his briefcase.
    ‘Hello, darling. No, it’s all right. Tex has a board meeting this morning. You’re coming to do the Hervy gala? That’s wonderful! Of course you must stay here. So you’re bringing him? Is it serious? Well, I’m still sorry for Yves. We’ll talk about it when you get here. How was Dorset? Granny wrote me a long letter about it all …’
    ‘I’m glad Yolande’s coming,’ remarked Tex when they sat down to breakfast. ‘I thought she’d forgotten us over here.’
    ‘Did she tell you she’s bringing her new boyfriend?’
    ‘Yes.’ He laughed, and his lined face looked boyishly attractive. ‘The one your mother doesn’t like.’
    ‘That’s the understatement of the year.’
    ‘A free language course with sex thrown in, didn’t she say? Sounds like a smart guy.’
    ‘It’s not funny, Tex.’ Grace’s dark eyes were reproachful.
    ‘I’m sorry, darling. Are you still feeling bad because you didn’t go to Jean-Claude’s funeral?’
    ‘I couldn’t have gone with Toinette Brozard there. But I do so wish Yolande hadn’t broken up with Yves. They’re made for each other. She was always absolutely crazy about him.’
    Tex sipped his strong black coffee. ‘Puppy love. She’s just grown up, that’s all. Yves is a great guy, but if she doesn’t want him anymore, there’s nothing you can do.’
    ‘Marie-Christine is really upset.’
    ‘Ah yes, the baroness … Hell, I was terrified when we first met. And that château!’ He looked rather wistful. ‘That was a fantastic holiday, Grace. We ought to go again sometime. What about Christmas?’
    ‘Are you free?’
    ‘I ought to be when I’ve wound up all this Brenton business for Hank Pedersen. The guy’s a nut. Buys a company everyone thinks has sunk without trace and then goes for a rights issue straight away. Still, it’ll probably work. Stamp Pedersen Corp. on any piece of paper and it’s sure to sell. I’ve never known him back a loser yet.’
    ‘He just rips the heart out of someone else’s company and sacks people as far as I can see,’ she said seriously. ‘It’s not right.’
    Tex laughed. ‘Grace, my sweet – all these years I’ve tried to corrupt you, and you will stick to your principles. Pedersen did his hard work years ago. He built up the myth. Now he’s trading on it. Besides, he usually comes up with the goods. The man’s a