CHAPTER EIGHT

      Nicole's eyes leisurely flitted from Robin, standing shirtless in the center of the living room, to the unmade blanket and pillow on the couch, to Victoria, awkwardly straightening from where she'd crouched to speak to Eve. Smokey-eyes wide with insincere concern, Nicole inquired, "Don't you own a bed, dear?"
      "Don't talk to her!" Robin stepped forward, but, for a beat, neither woman could tell which one he was addressing, until Robin turned to Nicole and snarled, "Don't you dare talk to Victoria like that. Where the hell have you been the last couple of weeks?"
      His belligerence was clearly aimed solely at Nicole. And yet it frightened Victoria deeply. She'd never seen Robin behave like this. Even at the Elizabeth Fund Gala after it became clear that he was losing their bet, even the other night when he'd stumbled in determined to convince Victoria what a bastard he was, she'd never felt such pure rage radiating from him -- like physical heat. What scared Victoria most though, was her hunch that not only was Robin drifting dangerously close to not being able to control that heat, but that, in fact, the heat was controlling him.
      Nicole lifted Robin's shirt from where he'd hung it over the back of a chair, and smiled as she rubbed the material between two impeccably-manicured fingers. "Did you miss me, darling?"
      He grabbed the shirt out of her hands, stuffing both arms into the sleeves, furiously buttoning it. His hands pulsed with barely bridled violence, a fact that Nicole noted with a satisfied smile. Despite the hostility, she seemed to be drawing pleasure from their exchange. And so, in some perverse way, was Robin. The perception chilled Victoria. It reminded her of Gabriel baiting Terrence even as their foster-father's fists pummeled his face and blood trickled from Gabriel's nostrils, how every blow prodded a twisted smile as Gabriel drew a warped satisfaction from the control that came with possessing the knack for bringing out the worst in another person.
      Robin demanded, "Where were you, Nicole?"
      She shrugged, continuing to walk around Victoria's living room like a tourist unimpressed by the exhibit. "Here and there."
      "Damn you." Robin grabbed Nicole's arm, yanking her with such force, she nearly toppled off her four-inch heels.
      She fell against his chest, face temptingly close to the base of his throat. Smiling wickedly, Nicole nipped at his collar-bone, leaving feint teeth-marks, and purring "Not in public, darling."
      He shuddered, shaking her off him like one would a leech.
      In the doorway, Eve watched the exchange with a numb look that cut Victoria deeper than even the reality of Robin's wife invading her apartment. Victoria took Eve's hand, surprised by how quickly the child acquiesced to being led by a total stranger, and, voice deliberately resonant in the hope that Robin and Nicole would pick up her cue, offered, "Are you hungry, Eve? I have some fruit in the kitchen. Cereal, too. Would you like me to make you some?"
      Eve shrugged, dutifully following Victoria, while her parents watched, both somehow startled by the reminder of Eve's existence.
      As Victoria shut the kitchen door behind them, Nicole offered, "I can see why you're holding on to this one, Robin. So domestic. Just like the mommy you lost."
      For an instant, Nicole actually believed Robin might hit her. He got as far as raising his arm, before a quick glance towards the kitchen reminded him of Pollyana lurking on the other side, and he merely demanded, "What the hell are you doing here?"
      "Considering all the time you've spent in this apartment over the past few weeks, I'd assumed we'd moved."
      "Oh, that's humorous, Nicole." Robin bent his elbow to button his cuff. "I told you in France I'd be sending divorce papers."
      "Send them." Nicole flipped both palms towards the ceiling. "Mail them, messenger them, have them delivered in song. No law says I'm obligated to sign them."
      "Why the hell not?"
      "Because," she crossed her arms smugly. "I don't want to."
      He struggled to control his temper. "Name your price."
      "No." She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. "You're not listening, Robin. But, that's fine. Our marriage wasn't exactly built on communication, was it?" She moved her hips, rubbing against him, until, in spite of himself, she felt Robin start to respond. Nicole smiled.
      He pulled away in disgust, and, through clenched teeth, spat, "Name your price, Nicole. This is your last chance."
      She laughed. "Or you'll what, darling?"
      "I'll cut you off without a cent." The reply came so quickly, he must have been planning for it. The realization shocked Nicole. She'd never known Robin to think further than his next cognac. She wondered what other bad habits his bimbo-de-jour had taught him.
      Robin said, "Either sign the divorce papers and help yourself to the largest settlement your greedy little soul can come up with, or fight me on this and lose everything."
      For a man who thrived on cultivating an image so detached, so bored, and so cynical that, at times, it bordered on catatonic, he certainly sounded like he meant to carry out his threat. But, that was impossible. Robin had asked for divorces before, and he always ended up changing his mind. Because, deep down, Robin knew he and Nicole belonged together. They were each other's dark-side. They fed off each other. They were, as Robin so eloquently expressed it once: each other's punishment for a wealth of past and future sins.
      And so, instead of answering him one way or the other, Nicole only flashed an enigmatic smile guaranteed to drive Robin mad, and gaily called out, "Come along, Eve. We're leaving."
      Her daughter came out of the kitchen, pausing to let Victoria wipe a milk-mustache off her face with a napkin. Robin's slut wore a navy, tailored business suit that, except for the skirt, might as well have been cut for a man, and a blouse that even a seventy year old maid wouldn't wear, for fear of appearing too dowdy. Her hair, which had to come from a bottle, or else surely there'd be grey in it by now, was pulled back off her face and into a knot no capable hair-dresser on the Riviera would ever consider a French twist.
      Nicole shook her head, sympathetically asking Robin, "Was this the best you could do, darling? I didn't realize the pickings were getting so slim out there."
      Undaunted, Victoria matched Nicole sweet smile for sweet smile as she remarked, "It makes you wonder what sort of harridan he was running away from, doesn't it, if I looked good in comparison?"
      Robin's lips twitched. He shot Victoria a look of admiration. At least, that's what Nicole assumed it to be. He'd never looked at her that way. He'd never smiled at her with anything save lust or contempt in all the six years they'd known each other.
      Victoria grinned back, then winked at him. It was a gesture devoid of eroticism. And yet, it reeked of an intimacy that Nicole and Robin, despite marathon sessions of passionately exploring each other to exhaustion, had never come even close to reaching.
      Nicole approached Victoria, voice low, almost hypnotic in it's intensity. "You think you know everything, don't you? A couple of sweaty nights screwing my husband, and you're an authority on him. Well, let me tell you something, you don't know a damn thing." She smiled viciously. "I do dare you to ask him, though."
      Victoria's glance wavered in confusion from Nicole to Robin. "Ask him what?"
      "Ask him about oh, the demons that live along the outskirts of his conscience, and how they have a nasty tendency to pop up with- out warning. Ask him about the dark days that stretch into weeks and months when all he wants to do is wound and humiliate anything and anybody he sees. Ask him, Miss Morgan."
      Uncertain of how to respond, and more frightened by her threat than she wished to admit, Victoria seized the opportunity to avoid -- or at least put off -- a confrontation, by, out of the corner of her eye, noting that Eve had found the frame Robin cracked earlier, and was now playing with the shards.
      Grateful for a reprieve, Victoria pivoted from mother to child and cautioned, "Careful, honey, don't cut yourself."
      Nicole peered down at the torn photo of Victoria and Gabriel.
      "Who's that?" she snapped. "Your previous conquest?"
      "Actually, he's my brother."
      Victoria couldn't understand Nicole's reaction to the picture. Robin's wife went totally still, all color draining from her face. She grabbed Eve's arm, flashing Victoria a look more venomous than anything that had come earlier, and stormed out of the apartment.
      The subsequent silence proved stifling.
      "Well...." Victoria couldn't shake the sensation that she had just been battered by a hurricane.
      Robin, immune to comparable scenes, planted both hands on his hips, and shook his head. "That woman," he said, "That woman really makes me want to -- steal her television set."
      Victoria turned to face him, both scared and eager to hear his answer to her next question. "Why do you think she came?"
      "To terrorize you." He had no doubt about it. "She's done it before. Using Eve, pretending we're this happy family, and you're the intruder who destroyed it. She wants to make you feel guilty."
      "Well, she succeeded." Victoria stood behind Robin, rising on her toes, and resting her chin atop his shoulder. "Why didn't you ever tell me about Eve?"
      "You knew I had a daughter."
      "Yes, but, until this morning, she wasn't real. Now, that I know what a sweet little girl she is, how can I -- "
      He sighed. "Can't you see this is exactly what Nicole wants?" Robin turned around. "Just like that speech about my, what did she call them? demons? She thinks she can frighten you away from me."
      "Isn't that what you were trying to do last night?"
      "No. Last night, I was being straight with you. I wanted you to know what you were getting into with me."
      "And what's that?" Victoria tightened her arms around Robin's waist, peering up at him. "What am I getting into with you?"
      His eyes danced. He returned Victoria's embrace, pressing her to his chest, and confessed, "I don't know. Last month, last week, hell -- yesterday, if you'd asked me that question, I'd have been full of answers. I'd have said you were in for the erotic ride of your life, a neverending party, pleasure after pleasure beyond --"
      "Okay, okay." She butted his chest playfully with her head. "Remind me never to challenge you to a self-confidence contest."
      Robin stroked Victoria's hair, cradling her head in his palm. "That was yesterday. Today, I haven't the slightest idea what weare getting into. You're different, Victoria. I've never met any- one like you and that means I haven't got any glib answers or over- rehearsed pick-up lines to fall back on. All I know is, when I'm with you, those demons Nicole mentioned feel boundlessly far away, like somebody else's bad dream. Don't get me wrong, now, I'm still a bastard -- I'd say a son-of-a-bitch, except I refuse to insult my mother that way. I'm not a nice guy, I have never been a nice guy. The strange thing is though, Victoria, when I get around you, I'm periodically struck with this unfamiliar urge... to become one."

      She'd seen him nearly every day since that first afternoon in the parking garage. Gabriel took her and Eve to the beach, to the park, to the zoo -- after which Nicole passed nights lying awake, trying to figure out his angle, until, exhausted, she crumbled and accepted that, just maybe, he was telling the truth when he swore he came to visit her and Eve because he enjoyed their company.
      They were always chaperoned by Eve, so Nicole couldn't invoke impropriety as an excuse to keep her distance from him, and, after a week, her protests became largely ceremonial. She found herself looking forward to Gabriel's visits. He was sweet. He was funny. He was generous -- especially in light of the finances she knew he didn't have. And, most important, while Eve ran from the monkey's cage to the alligator pool, Gabriel walked a few steps behind, and quietly listened to every word Nicole said.
      She was telling him about how excruciating her pregnancy had been, how she'd felt sick from morning till night, from the first day to the last, to the point where she actually lost weight rather than gaining it, and of how, by the time she went into labor, she'd felt so decimated by it all that she'd simply curled up on her bed, willing herself to die and stop the misery.
      "The doctor said he'd never had a patient in labor who fought her progress so hard. But, by then, I'd changed my mind. I didn't care how much money she was worth, I just didn't want a baby."
      She expected him to tell her what a horrible monster she was. How could any woman not want her own infant? She prepared herself for his attack, just as Nicole constantly braced for the day when he would finally realize how rotten she was and take off for good.
      But, instead of condemning, Gabriel patted Nicole's hand and told her, "Many women feel totally overwhelmed at the last minute. It doesn't mean anything, it's just the pain talking."
      He thought he was reassuring her, but Gabriel's message only made Nicole feel more guilty, and so she masochistically inquired, "You don't think it's unnatural, though, not wanting your baby? I mean, not wanting one at all, not just at the last minute."
      Gabriel shrugged. "If I had my way, every baby born would be a wanted baby. I see so much in my clinic. Kids getting the crap beat out of them by their parents, girls ripping themselves in half with knitting needles and broom handles and anything else they can get their desperate hands on. Every child," he repeated with near- religious fervor. "Should be a wanted a child. If there's a creed I believe in with all my heart, it's that. And I'm willing to put my money where my mouth is." Realizing he'd articulated more than he'd meant to, Gabriel abruptly looked away, reluctant to continue.
      Nicole hoped that he would. Not because she was particularly interested in his divulgence, although his assertion that there was nothing wrong with not wanting a child did make her feel a fraction better about herself. But because she ached for a sign that, after everything she'd confessed to him over the past few weeks, Gabriel now, at least, believed he could trust her as much as she did him.
      He appeared to comprehend as much, and, despite the sensitive nature of his disclosure, finally continued, more for her peace of mind than his, "When I was in medical school, abortions were still illegal. But, this professor of mine let me in on a secret. If he had a patient who needed any procedure -- not just abortions, any- thing -- that, for whatever reason, couldn't be performed, he'd do it regardless. And call it something else in his records."
      "Isn't that illegal?" Nicole asked, confused.
      "Yes. But, as far as I'm concerned, it's moral. Now that I run my own practice, I remember what he taught me. If my patients need a procedure that I think is vital, but they can't afford it, or maybe, it's a drug the law prohibits, or their insurance won't cover it -- I do it regardless."
      "And call it something else?"
      "Yes." He nodded fervently. "I took an oath to save lives. I have to do whatever is required, no matter what the price. The people who come to me, they're in such desperate straits to begin with, least I can do is -- hell, if you don't want a child, by all means, don't have one. Just don't mutilate yourself, and don't let poverty force you into having a kid you'll only end up bouncing off the walls before you dump them in a garbage can to die."
      He'd turned his face away from her as he spat out that closing part, so Nicole could see neither his eyes nor his expression. All she heard was the bitterness in his voice. And something else. A longing, a sadness. The recognition amazed her, because, frankly, Nicole had never been what you'd call a sensitive person.
      So why then, did her unexpected suspicion that there was more to Dr. Gabriel Scott than the sunny front he insisted on showing her and Eve, prompt Nicole's heart to constrict, ever so slightly, with a missed beat? Why did it make her yearn to rest her arm in the crook of his elbow and make him turn around so she could brush her fingers against his cheek and caress his face until the sadness that she somehow knew was buried deep down left his eyes for good.
      "Gabriel," she whispered, unsure of what she intended to say next. When he turned, Nicole felt herself struck anew by just how blue his eyes were, and by how soft his mouth seemed, how inviting.
      Why was she hesitating? Why was she acting like some bashful virgin, instead of like a woman whose past totaled so many men, she and Robin once stayed up trying to count them all, and fell asleep before the list was complete. Gabriel, after all, was just another man. And it had been so, so long since Robin had touched her.
      But, even as a part of her mind told Nicole her feelings meant nothing beyond a physical hunger gone too long unattended, she knew that it was more than that. That she didn't merely want Gabriel to satisfy her. She wanted him to improve her, to pass his gentleness and his kindness and his goodness on to her, to enrich her, to make her whole. And, in return, she wanted to reassure and hearten him, as he so often did her. For the first time in a long while, Nicole didn't just want to take. She was also aching to give.
      "What is it, sweetheart?" Gabriel's smile made her soul dance. He clasped both her hands in his, playfully swinging them from side to side. "What did you want to tell me?"
      She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this way. She doubted she ever had. Nicole wondered what Robin would make of it. After all, he was the one who always told Nicole she never thought about anybody's happiness except her own, boasting, "That's why you and I compliment each other so well. None of those pesky, generous impulses to get in the way of our instant gratification."
      If Robin knew what was going through Nicole's mind right now, he'd probably laugh. He'd tell her she was losing her edge. She was dropping her standards. What was Nicole thinking?
      She knew exactly what she was thinking. She was thinking that Gabriel was her friend, the first friend she'd ever known. She was thinking that he was decent, and he accepted Nicole for who she was and he made her feel, if not suitable, than, at least less squalid, about the transgressions she'd committed to survive. And, when he smiled at her, she melted in a way she never had before, not even in the early days with Robin.
      She also knew that she had no right to think that way.
      From the day she turned thirteen, the newly christened Nicole Simonge had lived for only one objective, and everything she'd done since then had been a stepping-stone to her achieving it. Now that she finally had it all -- well, alright, granted, maybe not all, in the original fantasy her husband had rarely expressed a wish to see her drop dead, but, hell, she could work on that -- Nicole was not about to surrender it.
      And so she told Gabriel, without meeting his eyes, "We've had enough zoo for today. It's time to go home."
      What exactly she planned to do once she got back to that sty, Nicole couldn't say. After Gabriel dropped her and Eve off, she spent an hour pacing the cramped room, growling at anything, from cockroach to daughter, that dared scurry in her way, and wondering what the hell had come over her that afternoon. She felt out of sorts, ready to leap from her own skin at the pettiest provocation, so on edge that she could feel her skin vibrating from the tension. Finally, unable to stand another minute, Nicole grabbed the phone, dialed the Fairmont, and asked for Robin's room. When he answered and confirmed that he was there, she hung up. Telling Eve to order something from room-service, Nicole grabbed her purse and left.
      She didn't have too long of a wait outside the Fairmont. As was his habit, Robin exited around ten, dressed so divinely it made Nicole physically pine for the days when he liked to escort her on shopping sprees along the Riviera, demanding closing approval over everything she bought because, as he explained, "I insist on making my entrance with just the right accessories."
      She shadowed Robin to a succession of night-clubs, thrilled to catch him flirting with any woman who wriggled across his path, and accepting phone numbers scrawled on everything from business cards to cocktail napkins to lipstick on his palm. The sight made Nicole grin. Obviously, Miss Morgan hadn't proven enough of a distraction to keep Robin's eye from wandering further.
      Nicole could have told him that from the start.
      At two-thirty in the morning, she assumed Robin was on his way to another club, and even considered calling it a night -- she had a hunch Gabriel wouldn't like her leaving Eve for this long -- when Nicole realized that Robin was headed for Victoria's apartment.
      She watched him go in, and, quite patiently, waited for him to come out again. He never came out.
      Nicole couldn't believe it. He was spending the night? Robin never spent the night. He preferred to fuck and get the hell out. Less complications that way.
      This was getting way, way out of hand. Victoria Morgan had to be stopped. Quickly.
      And so Nicole hurried home to pick up Eve.
      Three hours later, she was feeling sorry she'd ever gotten out of bed. And not just because the sight of Robin defending his slut had made Nicole nauseous. But, because of the picture of Gabriel.
      Victoria Morgan's brother.
      Not even Robin's repeated infidelity had made Nicole feel as betrayed and as devastated as the sight of that photo. Maybe that was because Robin never claimed to be trustworthy, and Gabriel had worked so hard to convince her he was. And because she'd been fool enough to believe him.
      Nicole was still shaking when she got back to the motel. She sat down on one of the beds, hugging herself so tightly her fingers left bruises on her forearms, and rocking back and forth, trying to regain control. Through tears, she swore she'd make them pay. All of them. Robin, Victoria, Gabriel.
      Especially Gabriel.

      At the conclusion of his shift at the clinic, Gabriel picked up the phone to call Nicole without fully realizing that it was a habit he'd gotten into over the past weeks. Their association had crept up on him almost without Gabriel's knowledge. When he first saw Nicole in the Cooper parking garage, his only goal had been to rescue the beautiful damsel in distress. Later, he'd been moved by Eve's hunger for affection. Gabriel might have blamed her mother for the neglect, if only Nicole weren't suffering so severely from the same ill. She touched him. He couldn't explain it. Despite the misery he encountered daily at work, Nicole touched him deeper than anyone he'd ever known. She reminded him of a princess forced to survive in a world of ugliness. A changeling of sorts.
      Gabriel chuckled. Such flights of fancy were out of character for his usual, pragmatic approach to life. Yet, Nicole aroused him to poetry. If not honesty.
      He hated himself for deceiving her about his relationship with Victoria. But, once he'd chickened out of telling her immediately, the moment was permanently lost. He couldn't tell her now. Nicole would never understand why he had kept quiet for so long. Frankly, sometimes Gabriel didn't understand it, either. All he knew was, the prospect of being cut out of Nicole's life for good was a risk he'd rather sacrifice his principles for, than take.
      He'd planned on taking her and Eve to the movies that evening, and, since the theater was closer to his place than theirs, Gabriel gave Nicole a key to his apartment, telling them to meet him there and wait, in case Gabriel got held up at work. Which, of course, was precisely what happened. However, by the time Gabriel arrived home, forty minutes late, there was still no sign of Nicole or Eve. Thinking maybe they'd gotten their signals crossed, Gabriel called Nicole at the motel, and, when there was no answer, drove over.
      When she opened the door, all it took was one glimpse into her eyes, and Gabriel saw that she knew everything.
      She stared at him with such hate, such malice, and with such heartbreaking grief, it was all Gabriel could do to prevent himself from taking her in his arms and comforting her. The notion that he was responsible for contributing pain to the life of a woman who'd already suffered so much tore at his soul, and he would have been willing to do anything at that moment, to make it all better.
      Nicole never gave him the chance.
      He expected her to yell, or to call him some of the expletives she'd accumulated to heave at Robin over the years.
      But, Nicole only swallowed hard and slammed the door, leaving Gabriel outside. Alone.