Power Play: A Novel (7 page)

They went for a walk on the beach that afternoon, before Ashley picked the girls up from school, and they talked of other things. Bonnie made her laugh, and told her funny stories from the last movie she had worked on, and for a minute or two Ashley looked like the girl she had been before she met Marshall, carefree and beautiful and happy. All Bonnie hoped for her was that she would find that girl in herself again and reclaim her, before it was too late.

When Marshall got back to Palo Alto on Friday afternoon, he went straight to his office. He had two important appointments set up, and his Japanese clients were coming in that night. His secretary had made dinner reservations at Gary Danko for both men and their wives and him and Liz on Saturday, and he had already promised them two days of golf at Lagunitas Country Club, and they were looking forward to it. He was completely focused on his visitors from Japan, and the deal he was trying to make with them. It was an important one for UPI, which was all he could think of as he got to the
office. He sent a quick text to Ashley to tell her how much he missed her and to give his love to the girls, and another text to Liz to say he was back, and would see her in a few hours. And after that he went to work.

He didn’t think of Ashley again until he was driving home that night. He tried to call her from the car, but she had texted him that she and the girls were going to the movies with Bonnie. Marshall didn’t like Bonnie, and knew that she was one of his harshest critics. And he didn’t want her influencing Ashley against him. But he also knew that his relationship with Ashley was sound, and she was as in love with him as he was with her. They were linked to each other by the pleasures of the flesh, the passion they had shared for eight years, and their twins who were the fruit of it. And what bound them was stronger than anything Bonnie could say to her. But he didn’t like her troublemaking anyway.

And as he crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, he began to think about Liz and the weekend they had planned with his Japanese clients. He knew she would handle it perfectly. She always did. And her finesse in handling his clients and being the wife of a CEO was something he knew that Ashley couldn’t handle. She was far too flighty and vague. She was an artist, and a gorgeous, sensual woman. But Liz handled her role as a corporate wife like a profession, with genius and precision. Ashley kept his soul alive, and his body screaming for more. Liz impressed his clients and colleagues. He needed them both, one for his heart, and the other for his career. And he respected Liz in a way that he never had Ashley, and knew he probably never would. Ashley had different talents than Liz, but Liz’s skills were essential to the smooth running of his professional life
and career. It would have been nearly impossible to choose between them, so he never had, although Ashley had begged him a thousand times to divorce Liz. But so far he just couldn’t. He had to think of more than his romantic life. He was, after all, a CEO. And of the second-biggest corporation in the country. He couldn’t ignore that.

When he got home, Marshall was as tired as he always was on Friday nights, after his two days in L.A. Liz expected it, and had cooked a simple dinner. Lindsay was out with friends, and the house was quiet. She knew he was planning to get up early to meet his Japanese clients for a breakfast meeting, followed by a day of golf and a fancy dinner, and he wanted to get some rest that night.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” Marshall said, with a kiss that grazed the top of her head after he thanked her for dinner.

“I figured you would. You look tired.” She smiled at him. “Tough week in L.A.?” He nodded.

“We had a lot of meetings. But everything seemed fine when I left.” Liz nodded and watched him go upstairs while she cleaned up the kitchen after dinner. She had been reviewing her Japanese phrasebook that afternoon, so she could greet their guests properly when they met them for dinner. She knew she would have to keep the wives entertained, while the men talked business. It was second nature to her, and she was looking forward to it. She loved being part of his business life, and doing whatever she could to help him. In the end, it had provided her a more interesting and rewarding life than if she’d become a lawyer. At least she thought so, and she knew how grateful Marshall always was for her help.

And as he lay down on the bed, before Liz came upstairs, Marshall sent a quick text to Ashley, just to tell her he loved her, and as soon
as he had sent it, he erased it. She knew not to respond, while he was at the house in Ross. And by the time Liz came upstairs twenty minutes later, he was fast asleep. Ashley had totally worn him out the night before. Liz smiled as she got into bed beside him, happy he was home.

Fiona met her sister, Jillian, for tennis on Saturday morning. They tried to play as regularly as possible, but at least half the time, one of them was busy. Fiona loved seeing Jillian, and they were both strong tennis players and enjoyed the exercise and the time together. Jillian was six feet tall, and as dark as Fiona was fair. Fiona looked like their mother, and Jillian was the image of their father. Jillian was six years older, lived in Palo Alto, and still saw patients at Stanford, as she had since she did her residency there twenty-five years before. She had had a solid and satisfying career and was successful and respected in the psychiatric community. She had published two books for laymen on psychiatric issues, one on the perils of marriage and how to avoid most of them and maintain a relationship that worked for both parties, and the other on navigating the shoals of depression in the modern world. And she was currently working on her third book, on the effects of power and success on both men and women, and how differently it affected them.

When they took a break, Jillian chatted with her sister.

“You realize that you’re my model for the female side of the book, don’t you? Or one of them anyway. I’ve been using you as a guinea pig for years,” Jillian said about her new book.

Jillian had never married and had never wanted children. She had several long-term relationships, and many short ones, and was rarely without an interesting man in her life. She loved men, but it had never even remotely appealed to her to turn any of her relationships into marriage. And usually, after a few years, she moved on, to someone even more interesting and better, after auditioning several new ones. The men in her life adored her, and she stayed friends with them long after they broke up. She had always said that her niece and nephew, Fiona’s children, were enough of a “kid fix” for her, and she was close to both, and called them regularly to see how they were. She was a terrific aunt, but had always been convinced she’d be a terrible mother. “I’m too self-involved,” she admitted readily. “I could never stop what I’m doing long enough to give a child enough attention. Or a man.” She had a busy, extremely independent life. And no matter how intelligent they were, she treated the men in her life as sex objects more than equal partners. They were so startled by it, they loved it. She was unashamedly sexual, even at fifty-five.

“Power acts as an aphrodisiac for powerful, successful men,” Jillian informed her sister, and then went back to the game, as she sent a crushing serve in her direction, which Fiona missed, intrigued by what she said. “And an anesthetic for women,” she concluded, as Fiona listened with interest. “Like you,” Jillian continued. “How long has it been since you got laid?”

“You expect me to answer that?” Fiona looked shocked.

“If you can’t answer that question,” Jillian said smugly, “my guess is you can’t even remember the last time.”

“Of course I can. It was two years ago,” Fiona said, looking momentarily miffed as they continued to play.

“That’s ridiculous, for a woman your age. And you don’t look anywhere near your age, by the way. If you weren’t successful, you could have any guy you want. The problem is that you’re a successful CEO, which scares the shit out of any guy. A man in your same position would have women ten deep lined up at his gate, and be screwing everything that moves. Men in power feel sexy and are driven by sex. Women in the same jobs go underground and forget they’re women. Success is very isolating,” she said, as the game came to an end, and they met at the net. Jillian had beaten Fiona. She almost always did, except if she was exceptionally tired or sick.

“I’m not sure I agree with the anesthetic part, but it is isolating,” Fiona said, looking thoughtful as they both cracked open bottles of water when they left the court, and took a long drink. They always played hard. It was relaxing for them both.

“I don’t think women in your position feel sexy, because men don’t pay attention to them. They’re too threatened by successful women so they ignore them, and treat them like men, which is devastating for any woman’s self-image, to be overlooked as a woman.”

“Maybe,” Fiona said pensively. “I never think about it.”

“That’s my point. I’ll bet you never even think about guys, most of the time. You’re too busy working. The male CEOs I know are having affairs, usually with unsuitable women. When was the last time you heard about a female CEO having an affair with a guy she picked up at a massage parlor?” Fiona laughed at the idea, and Jillian looked
serious about her theories. “Look at you. When was the last time you went on a date, or a guy asked you out for dinner?” Fiona thought about it, and honestly couldn’t remember.

“I don’t know, it’s been a while … a long while … but in my case, loss of memory is a blessing. I’ve had some of the worst blind dates in history.”

“So has every female CEO I’ve interviewed. The good guys are too afraid of them to ask them out, and those women wind up with the dregs who go after them for all the wrong reasons, or some terrible blind dates set up by friends.”

“That sounds about right. Why do you suppose my male counterparts have more fun?”

“Probably because they go after it. And a successful man is a hero, particularly one with power. A woman in a powerful position is automatically presumed to be a bitch.” It was true, but the theory sounded depressing to Fiona, who had encountered the results of that stereotype too. Most of the men she had met had been afraid of her, and didn’t want to get involved. And now she didn’t either. She’d given up. “Everybody wants to date a successful guy, they’re in high demand. No one wants to date a successful woman, or damn few men anyway. They’re too scared. Powerful, successful women get a bad rap. Not every female CEO is a bitch,” Jillian said, thinking about it, and Fiona laughed nervously.

“That’s reassuring. I was beginning to worry. Am I one of the good ones or the bad ones?” She looked concerned for a minute, as they sat down on a bench with their water.

“What do you think?” Jillian asked with a wry smile, sounding like a shrink.

“I don’t know. Maybe a little of both.”

“Welcome to the human race. I’m not so charming every day either, and I’m not a CEO,” Jillian said as they put their rackets in their cases.

“I try to be strong but fair at the office, otherwise they’d walk all over me, especially the chairman of the board.” She thought of Harding Williams as she said it. “But I tried to leave the gladiator stuff at the office and be a woman at home when I was married. According to David, I failed abysmally.”

“Look what he married. Would you want to be her? She’s a nice woman, but her greatest accomplishment is making three-dimensional snowflakes and Easter bunnies from Martha Stewart’s book. Come on, Fiona, you don’t want to be that. You never did.” She would have been disappointed in her sister if she had. Jillian had enormous respect for her. Fiona was capable of so much more than that, which David had never appreciated. Fiona had always wanted more for herself too, much to Jillian’s relief. The two sisters were very different in their lifestyle choices, but they were similar in some ways. Both were high achievers and perfectionists, and harder on themselves than on anyone else, and successful in their fields. And Fiona was powerful as well. Jillian thought it was their way of living up to their parents’ expectations for them, even after they were dead. And Fiona didn’t disagree. They had both been terrific students in school. Fiona was a gentler person. Jillian was tougher and more direct. And Fiona liked the commitment of marriage. Jillian never had.

Fiona was still thinking about what Jillian had said about David’s wife. “No, I don’t want to be like Jenny. But I’m not so sure I want to be me either. You’ll notice there’s no one in my bed at night, or knocking on my door. So something isn’t working right. Snowflakes and Easter bunnies are a hell of a lot less scary than a woman who
runs a major corporation.” Fiona didn’t look distressed as she said it, and knew it was the truth, and Jillian didn’t disagree.

“That’s my point. If you were a guy, everyone would want you. As a woman, it’s
much
harder to find a good man. Particularly one who likes you for who you are, and isn’t angry about it.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Get a sex change to get a date, if I ever want one again?” Fiona was laughing by then. She wasn’t desperate by any means, or even interested, but once in a while she thought it would be nice to have someone to talk to at night, after work, or wake up next to on the weekends. It had been a long time. And at other times, she was convinced that she was happier now alone.

“No, you’ve got to find a guy with guts, who’s not scared of you, or your job, who’s not jealous of you, and has the brains to look beyond the title on the door.” Jillian was serious about it. She thought Fiona should have a partner, a good one, which was easier said than done.

“I don’t think that man’s been born,” Fiona responded. “Maybe I’m too old,” she said quietly, and Jillian looked enraged.

“At forty-nine? That’s ridiculous. You could live another fifty years. Seventy-five-year-olds date and fall in love. One of my patients got married last year at eighty-nine, and he’s still going strong.”

“They’re retired and not CEOs anymore. I don’t have a hell of a lot of free time. And I have a feeling that as long as I’m working, in this job anyway, no guy is going to come near me. I’m not sure I care, in fact I don’t, but I think it may just be the way things are. And I’m not giving up my job for a date. My dating life hasn’t exactly been stellar since the divorce, which happens to be when I started this job, six years ago.”