Free Summer on the Cape by J.M. Bronston Page B

was fixing gold links into the cuffs of his custom-made shirt as Sanders opened the door for Allie.
    “Come in, my dear. Come in. Sanders will get you a drink.” Adam was standing in front of the tall mirror that hung on the wall of the foyer of his apartment. He had set his scotch and soda on the pier table in front of the mirror and was just turning his attention to arranging his black tie into a perfect bow.
    Allie glanced at Adam’s reflection in the mirror as she passed him on her way into the living room, pausing to let him put a kiss on her cheek. The years had been kind to Adam. He had kept himself healthy and in good shape and, although he was a bit thicker around the middle than he had been in his youth, he had not grown paunchy or flabby. Excellent tailoring helped him preserve his air of easy grace, and he was fortunately still in possession of most of his hair, although its wiry thickness was now quite silver.
    He settled the neat bow into an exactly correct position, and Allie said to herself, Adam Talmadge must be the only man in the world who can do that without a struggle.
    She walked through the living room, feeling her high heels sink into the lush, pale carpeting, and noted for the hundredth time that everything about Adam Talmadge was smooth and elegant, including this penthouse apartment, high above Manhattan’s busy streets. The mirrored walls and marble floor of the foyer reflected gleaming brass fixtures and a crystal chandelier. The enormous living room was a veritable stage setting of fine antiques; exquisite, carefully selected paintings; floral arrangements and small accessories. The huge sofa was covered in an ivory-colored silk, imported at an extravagant price from Italy. “It impresses the clients,” Adam had said, “so it’s worth every penny.” Allie was aware that Adam’s lifestyle appeared excessive, but she knew he never did anything without calculating the effect—and the return.
    He had been an object of Allie’s admiration and respect ever since he had first taken an interest in her work when she was a young student, struggling through her beginnings at the Art Students League. Though she was no longer childishly in awe of his remarkable reputation in the art world and the suave grace of his personal style, she was mature enough now to recognize and appreciate his very special talents as agent and business advisor.
    Sanders arrived with a glass of sherry on a small silver tray just as Allie sat down on the sofa. She took a sip, put the glass on the coffee table in front of her, and settled back into the comfortable cushions, savoring the sumptuous setting that Adam had provided.
    Through the tall, wrap-around windows, the breathtaking view of the East River was spread out beneath her, Manhattan’s exciting skyline sparkling against the black and purple of the water. Up and down the river, the bridges crossing into Queens and Brooklyn were suspended beneath delicate strands of blue-green lights that hung, like jeweled necklaces, in the night. Below the bridges, small boats moved back and forth, their running lights weaving red and green and white through the shadowed depths.
    She lifted her eyes to the Manhattan skyline, and took another sip of her sherry.
    I used to think this was the most important city in the world. The center of the universe. I thought the rest of the world was a big empty space.
    Something had changed. The center of the universe was no longer fixed, immutably, in this city—
    Her thoughts were interrupted by Adam, who had just come into the room.
    “Don’t get too comfortable,” he said. “I’ve been looking at your pictures, and we need to talk about them.”
    “My pictures aren’t the only thing we have to talk about!”
    “Later, my dear. Later. We’ll save that for dinner.” He held out a hand to help her up from the sofa, and led her into the wood-paneled library, where her pictures had been set up on a viewing table.
    Standing in front