what she was doing on Friday night, and felt guilty and like she was letting him down when she hung up. Theresa was going to babysit for Bethanie for the weekend. It didn’t seem fair that she was leading the life of a fairy princess and Sam was the drudge in his, with Tamar badgering him for money, in love with another man, his mother kibitzing from the sidelines and putting her oar in, and his four children constantly sick. It was definitely a nightmare, and a little too real. And Tamar made no pretense of helping him at all.
* * *
—
Charlie picked her up in his Bentley on Friday morning, and drove her to Teterboro in New Jersey where his plane was waiting. It was a Gulfstream, which comfortably accommodated a dozen people, and could travel long distances without refueling, so he used it to go to Europe frequently. There were two flight attendants to serve them, and they had a hot breakfast waiting. The captain and copilot were pleasant and professional. They took off twenty minutes after they got there, while Charlie and Coco had breakfast, with The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal neatly folded next to them.
They flew directly to Saint Martin, where his boat picked them up to take them to Saint Bart’s, avoiding the ride on the terrifying puddle jumper that usually landed there. The boat was beyond fabulous, with every imaginable comfort and filled with priceless art. A Rolls was waiting for them with his houseman driving in Saint Bart’s, and they went straight to his house, which had a magnificent view of the ocean, and an enormous pool.
He had given her her own room, so she would have privacy, and enough space for her things, and they could move at the pace that seemed most natural to them. There was no pressure on her at all, although they both knew what would happen that weekend and why they were there. They had waited a month for this. The house was filled with flowers, and her room was as well. He opened a bottle of champagne for her when they arrived, and they sat by the pool for a little while, before they went to put bathing suits on, before having lunch at the pool.
He sat admiring her, as she looked at him, and an odd question popped into her mind. He made everything so easy for her, and himself. He was a man who liked his comforts and the fruits of his huge success.
“Does this ever seem unreal to you, Charlie?” she asked him and he smiled.
“No, why would it? It’s my real life and the way I want it. Some of us are lucky enough to live the way we choose. I have no encumbrances, no children to worry about, and this is the way I want to live.” She wondered if he ever felt guilty about indulging himself to that degree, or missed going to McDonald’s, or riding the subway or doing the things that other people did. Her father had built a successful empire and amassed an enormous fortune, but she couldn’t imagine them sitting by the pool, surrounded by servants, waited on hand and foot, with their own plane, and a yacht in the harbor. At a certain point, it became excessive, and she wondered where that line was for him, or if it even existed.
She was enjoying it thoroughly, but it didn’t feel real. It was the flash to the highest degree, the Mount Everest of consumption. She wondered if maybe Texans just did things bigger, but she also couldn’t imagine him taking care of four young children like Sam, or even like her with Bethanie. She liked to be comfortable too, but in Charlie’s lifestyle, you missed the simple, precious moments that she also enjoyed. The times when you could be alone, or made dinner, just the two of you, which her parents had done. Charlie was always surrounded by employees and liked to be waited on.
They swam before lunch, and ate the lobster prepared by the French chef he kept there. After lunch, they dozed in the sun for a while. She awoke to his touch, as he sat on her chaise and gently stroked her back. She had unhooked her top, and he had told her she could swim topless since everyone did in Saint Bart’s since it was French, but she didn’t feel quite ready for that with him