Meet Me at Macys

Falling in Love

CLAIRE

Claire Ogilvie couldn't get Maxwell's new image out of her mind. At three o'clock in the morning, she was still awake. Behind her mind's eye, she saw him in his tight leather pants with a thick bulge in front. His cockeyed smile and the tilt of his fedora made her pulsing blood run hot. She rolled over, pulling the duvet with her. Finally, she threw it aside and lay across the sheets. Sweat pasted her silk negligee to her stealthy body.

"I can't fall in love," Claire moaned, sitting upright. "I'm married!" She flopped onto the mattress and, pulling her knees up, hugged them tightly.

Dammit, Claire muttered in frustration. Gerald replaced Maxwell in her thoughts. She chided herself for being young and stupid. Her mother and father had wanted her to wait until she was older before plunging into matrimony. Back then, she thought she knew it all. She thought she knew Gerald.

Claire admitted she was wrong. At the time, she was too young to know anything. Now, she wanted Maxwell but could not have him. Her Catholic upbringing would not allow for a divorce. Although her parents were lax in their religion, they clung to certain aspects of it. They were strict about divorce and unhappy about Claire's sudden departure.

Claire did not tell them the reasons for her abrupt flight. She couldn't bring herself to talk about the physical and sexual abuse she endured. Instead, she bottled it inside her and continued her life as though nothing happened. Maxwell's appearance changed the situation drastically. Claire knew she had to do something about Gerald.

Arriving at the recording studio early, Claire sat in on Maxwell's first session with the record producer, Mr. Slim. Maxwell spread out his portfolio on the table, and Mr. Slim studied each one for an interminable period. He had to decide which tracks to record and the arrangements. Finally, he created a pile of possibles and discards.

"What's wrong with this one?" Claire asked, rifling through the discard pile. She picked it at random.

"Nothing wrong with it, young lady," Slim answered curtly. "We are limited to only a few cuts. We might use that one another time, depending."

"Depending on what?" Claire continued caustically.

"On whether Maxwell succeeds or fails," Slim countered abruptly. "I don't see what your interest is, young lady. Either stay in the background or get out."

"I'm an interested party," Claire declared hotly. "I'm going to ensure Maxwell gets a fair shake around here. Uncle Maynard..."

"Your Uncle Maynard wants this guy fast-tracked," the record producer stated, leaning back in his chair. "It won't happen if you interrupt every two minutes. I'll give the boy a fair shake."

Slim returned to his task, and the hours dragged past noon. When Maxwell's stomach growled noisily, Claire insisted on a lunch break. However, instead of breaking up, Slim ordered sandwiches, and they continued to work.

"Dinner tonight?" Claire whispered, leaning into Maxwell's ear. Grinning, he nodded his assent.

"Are you finished playing the dating game?" Slim grumbled.

"Yes," Claire snapped, throwing the producer an arrogant smirk.

Finally, at nine o'clock in the evening, Slim called it a day. Grabbing Maxwell's arm, Claire dragged him to the cloakroom. She pushed his coat at him, donned her own, and rushed for the elevators. On the street, she hailed a cab quickly.

"I thought we would never get out of there," she exclaimed, her heart racing. Giving the cabby an address, Claire sat back and leaned against Maxwell's side. He put his arm around her and drew her close.