Smart House Read Online Free
her in any way, but kept his gaze on the approaching brothers, watching them with a remote, unreadable look.
Beth turned to watch them also; their voices were still raised in argument. She could make out some of the words, but before they made sense—going over budget, going broke, going for broke, whatever—Gary spotted her and abruptly cut off what he had been saying. He hurried to her and seized her arms, shook her.
“It’s about time you came back,” he said. “You know I want your input. My wife belongs at home.”
Chapter 2
If it had not been for Laura Westerman, Beth might have hit him, but she knew it would vastly amuse Laura. She gritted her teeth and yanked away, spilling her wine on him in the process. He wiped at it halfheartedly and turned to Laura.
“Come up with any ideas about the campaign yet?”
“Gary, darling, you put it in my lap two hours ago! Come on!”
“Okay, okay. But, listen: Alice in Wonderland, how about that? A ballet dancer exploring Wonderland, Smart House.” He took Laura’s hand and pulled her toward a table, at the same time drawing a notebook from his pocket. “Greatest character in English lit exploring the greatest house ever built…”
Beth realized that Milton was taking her wineglass from her hand, and she breathed deeply. She was shaking. The others drifted in, chatting or talking with intense concentration, or maintaining a sullen silence, and she paid hardly any attention. She sipped wine, grateful to Milton, and decided to leave the next day. It had been stupid to come in the first place, to have expected any changes in Gary. She would get a lawyer to handle the entire matter, including a divorce, she thought with surprise. Actually she had not come around to that decision until just now, but having arrived at it, she knew it was part of her reason for being here this weekend.
At dinner she was seated with Alexander Randall on one side and Jake Kluge on the other. Alexander was twenty-seven, painfully shy, painfully thin, so adolescent in every way that it was an ordeal to have to spend any time at all with him. His fingernails were bitten off, his fingers red and sore. He was terrified of women. When the talk wound back to computers, as it did repeatedly, he became statue-still listening, then withdrew again when any other subject was raised. He ate with furious energy, barely glancing away from the food before him. Jake Kluge appeared to be preoccupied, either in deep thought or else totally absorbed in the conversation at the far end of the table, where Gary was going on about his plans for advertising Smart House. TV, of course, national magazines, tours. Jake’s gaze was on Gary, but Beth didn’t really believe he was listening any more than she was. She felt almost a malicious satisfaction seeing Laura squirm as Gary demolished her one reason for being in the company at all. If he took on advertising, along with every other phase of company business that he had already assumed, Laura would be as valuable an asset to the company as Maddie was. And that was zilch.
Beth paid no attention to the food, or the two middle-aged people who served it—husband and wife presumably, Mexicans maybe. She was vaguely aware that the food was good, the service excellent. She was thinking: They would finish dinner by nine; she would follow Gary and speak to him about her share of stock, if he would listen. If he would not listen, she would still follow him out, wish him a happy birthday, and tell him she was leaving first thing in the morning. He would have a tantrum, and Maddie would cry again, but she no longer cared. Coming here had been a mistake, staying would be a bigger mistake; she knew with certainty that if he manhandled her ever again, she would hit him. Clobber him, she amended.
Across the table from her Bruce suddenly threw down his spoon. “What the fuck makes you think you’ll have another million or two for advertising, you asshole?” he yelled at
Beth turned to watch them also; their voices were still raised in argument. She could make out some of the words, but before they made sense—going over budget, going broke, going for broke, whatever—Gary spotted her and abruptly cut off what he had been saying. He hurried to her and seized her arms, shook her.
“It’s about time you came back,” he said. “You know I want your input. My wife belongs at home.”
Chapter 2
If it had not been for Laura Westerman, Beth might have hit him, but she knew it would vastly amuse Laura. She gritted her teeth and yanked away, spilling her wine on him in the process. He wiped at it halfheartedly and turned to Laura.
“Come up with any ideas about the campaign yet?”
“Gary, darling, you put it in my lap two hours ago! Come on!”
“Okay, okay. But, listen: Alice in Wonderland, how about that? A ballet dancer exploring Wonderland, Smart House.” He took Laura’s hand and pulled her toward a table, at the same time drawing a notebook from his pocket. “Greatest character in English lit exploring the greatest house ever built…”
Beth realized that Milton was taking her wineglass from her hand, and she breathed deeply. She was shaking. The others drifted in, chatting or talking with intense concentration, or maintaining a sullen silence, and she paid hardly any attention. She sipped wine, grateful to Milton, and decided to leave the next day. It had been stupid to come in the first place, to have expected any changes in Gary. She would get a lawyer to handle the entire matter, including a divorce, she thought with surprise. Actually she had not come around to that decision until just now, but having arrived at it, she knew it was part of her reason for being here this weekend.
At dinner she was seated with Alexander Randall on one side and Jake Kluge on the other. Alexander was twenty-seven, painfully shy, painfully thin, so adolescent in every way that it was an ordeal to have to spend any time at all with him. His fingernails were bitten off, his fingers red and sore. He was terrified of women. When the talk wound back to computers, as it did repeatedly, he became statue-still listening, then withdrew again when any other subject was raised. He ate with furious energy, barely glancing away from the food before him. Jake Kluge appeared to be preoccupied, either in deep thought or else totally absorbed in the conversation at the far end of the table, where Gary was going on about his plans for advertising Smart House. TV, of course, national magazines, tours. Jake’s gaze was on Gary, but Beth didn’t really believe he was listening any more than she was. She felt almost a malicious satisfaction seeing Laura squirm as Gary demolished her one reason for being in the company at all. If he took on advertising, along with every other phase of company business that he had already assumed, Laura would be as valuable an asset to the company as Maddie was. And that was zilch.
Beth paid no attention to the food, or the two middle-aged people who served it—husband and wife presumably, Mexicans maybe. She was vaguely aware that the food was good, the service excellent. She was thinking: They would finish dinner by nine; she would follow Gary and speak to him about her share of stock, if he would listen. If he would not listen, she would still follow him out, wish him a happy birthday, and tell him she was leaving first thing in the morning. He would have a tantrum, and Maddie would cry again, but she no longer cared. Coming here had been a mistake, staying would be a bigger mistake; she knew with certainty that if he manhandled her ever again, she would hit him. Clobber him, she amended.
Across the table from her Bruce suddenly threw down his spoon. “What the fuck makes you think you’ll have another million or two for advertising, you asshole?” he yelled at
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