Chapter 34

After his confession, Johnny took Robert to Stanley’s office, while I continued to process what he had said. Bruni must have seen me as I walked back to the house. She met me as I opened one of the french doors that led to the drawing room and asked if I might take a walk with her. I agreed. A breeze kicked up as we stepped out the front door. She brushed her hair from her eyes as we walked up the driveway to the private road that led west toward the Hudson and, east, toward the main public road. There was at least an hour before we had to meet in the drawing room before lunch. We turned left toward the river.

After we had gotten well away from the house, she asked, “Do you have any idea what I dreamed about last night?”

“You and me?”

“You’re right, of course. Do you have an explanation for that?”

“None that comes easily.”

“But you have one.”

“A possibility only, and I’m not sure I understand it. Frankly, I felt turned upside down by you last night, and I don’t know what to do about that, either. I’m surprised we’re even talking right now.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“Yes, but mad is not the word. Confused and little betrayed, if you must know.”

“Malcolm announced that he’d seen my husband. That’s what did it, didn’t it?”

“It did. Would you care to enlighten me?”

“I would, only it’s complicated.”

“Then explain it.”

“Very well. I’m in a state of flux in my marriage. It’s over but not ended. The dream I had last night has made me more confused than ever, and that is on you, I think. Would you like to know why?”

“Yes.”

She stopped walking and looked at me. Her eyes were so blue — I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to.

“Before I tell you, I want to clear something up. I admit I was not forthcoming, but did you really expect me to blurt out that I was married right from the start? Would you have handled it any differently had you been me?”

“No, I would’ve done the same. It was your bad luck and Ault’s bad timing, although I did ask you about your marriage.”

“Did you really ask me?”

“No, you’re right again. I didn’t have the nerve to ask you straight out, although I wanted to.”

I was surprised by my answer. I spoke the truth. Revealing how I really felt was not something I did routinely, if at all. At that moment, all I knew was that it was very important that I be honest. Explaining what actually happened last night was another matter. There were levels of truth, but I had made a different start than I had before.

Bruni nodded her head slowly as she looked at me. “You surprise me. Now you know why I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t have the nerve either, although I wanted to tell you as well.”

There was truth in what she said. I sensed it. We had begun.

A gust picked up, and we had to turn away from looking at each other.

She took my arm as we walked along the black road that disappeared beneath the trees. She continued. “There is something I wish to say.”

“By all means, and thank you for explaining about your marriage.” I felt better.

“You’re not out of the woods yet, and frankly, neither am I. You have some explaining to do, but I’m willing to let you tell me in your own time. Talking truth is hard. It comes in layers. Someone once told me that you can’t get to the heart of things without first cutting through the skin. I’m not open as a rule. Being a lawyer I suppose does that, but I want to tell you a personal story about me anyway, if I can.”

“I’d like that.”

“A number of years ago, I fell in love in a dream. It was passionate, and it consumed me. I woke up completely hooked on this guy. I saw him in person a few days later. I suppose I expected to take up where the dream left off, but his dreams, if any, must have been very different. When I threw myself at him, he freaked out. I knew at once I’d made a terrible mistake. The moment was extremely awkward. I backpedaled, but the damage was done. He avoided me after that. A long time later, he apologized for his reaction. I think he regretted not taking me up on my offer, but by then the very thought of us together made me cringe. It still does.”

She smiled at the thought and said more seriously, “I don’t trust dreams in general, and I doubt dreaming of someone induces a similar dream in the person we dream about.” She looked at me.

“I would tend to agree. I had a similar experience. I dreamed about this girl I knew and woke up in love with her. The girl in question responded to my overtures, but whether because of my dream, my advances, or my looks, I was never sure. I didn’t have the nerve to ask her if she’d had the same or a similar dream. I suspect she hadn’t. The relationship didn’t last. I was fickle and easily distracted at the time.”

“Are you generally fickle?”

“I suppose I am, but then, I don’t find myself in many situations where that might be an issue.”

“Did you dream of me last night?” she asked, looking straight ahead.

“I was in your bed. I just don’t know if I was dreaming that. It’s hard to explain.”

She stopped walking and looked at me again. Her eyes were so blue. “It was realer than a dream, wasn’t it?”

“It was, but I never saw Raymond — the man in the hallway — and he didn’t see me, so it couldn’t have been real; yet it seemed so.”

“I knew it. That’s why I had to talk to you. I needed your…I needed confirmation.”

On impulse, I pulled her toward me and kissed her. We melted together. After a time, we separated, slightly out of breath. She said finally, “You kissed me the same way in the dream.”

“So did you.”

She stepped in closer and played with the collar of my shirt and said softly, “It was more than a dream. I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you wish to do?”

“I’m not sure. It’s not that simple.” She stepped back from me. “You know, you’ve changed. And I don’t understand that either.”

“From the dream?”

“No, that part seems familiar. I mean, from yesterday. You’re all of a sudden less uptight, more open, and more certain of yourself — more in control. I like it, but that’s a problem for me. I don’t want to like anyone right now, but I can’t seem to help myself.”

She stepped away and looked back along the road. “I was the one who started this thing between us. I like to play games with people — men, in particular. I enjoy unsettling them. I liked unsettling you. It was easy, and it was fun, but now the tables appear to be…turned.”

“And that bothers you?”

“I can’t find my footing, and I can’t explain it. One moment I’m in control. The next, I wake up completely besotted. You are so completely under my skin, I hurt. I can barely think of anything else except you. I almost lost it and started screaming at breakfast. This doesn’t happen to me. I don’t fall in love at the drop of a hat, particularly when I don’t want to or because it’s convenient. I woke up and started shaking just thinking about that dream. What happened to me? What have you done to me? How?” She looked at me, perplexed. There were tears in her eyes, which she quickly hid by holding me.

One part of me was thrilled to have this beautiful woman in my arms. I wanted to say, “There, there. It’ll be all right.” And continue to hope it would be. But there was another unfamiliar part I was becoming aware of since last night that processed things differently and counseled caution. At some point, it noted, I would have to explain. I could fool myself into thinking that I didn’t understand what had happened to her last night, but that was false. I had wanted her from the moment I saw her. Something made that dream come true: a demon. How could I possibly disclose that without a firmer foundation between us?

Bruni was also not like other women I had known. Bruni was like a tiger — an exquisite one, but still a tiger. There was a dark and predatory side to her. I knew this. My knowledge was intuitive but no less true. She was vulnerable now, but that would change. It was one thing to willingly surrender to another. Having one’s normal defenses stripped away without consent was something else entirely. When she understood what happened, which she would eventually, there would be hell to pay — and pay I would. And willingly, if I was honest. I wondered as well if my circumstances were much different from hers?

I continued to hold her and stroke her hair. I understood her distress. I had once fallen in love so hard, I hurt physically. The girl had been delightful. For me, I loved her at first sight, but passion that intense was neither pleasant nor wholesome. All I thought about was her. I was insanely happy, extraordinarily so, but with that feeling came jealousy, possessiveness, and a peevish desire for her attention. If she failed to look at me or spoke with another man, I felt betrayed. Crimes of passion were spawned from such feelings.

It would take real skill to manage Bruni’s feelings and emotions so that the passion she felt now wouldn’t turn to hatred of the same intensity. Once she righted herself, I thought it might be possible to build a more stable structure, but I did not give it much hope. Passion can turn sour in an instant. The truth was I didn’t feel the same intensity. I barely remembered last night, while obviously she did in detail. I thought it just as well. If I did, I knew instinctively that we would be consumed by a fire that would scorch all those around us, including each other.

She pushed me away. “I’m sorry. I’m not like this. I’m really not. Let’s walk. We’ll be late.”

“Not so fast. Wait.” I turned her face toward me. “We seem to have skipped several steps.”

She looked me in the eyes and said, “You don’t love me.”

“I barely know you, and you barely know me.”

“You don’t deny it? Oh God. I’ve done it again, haven’t I? I swore I’d never fall in love with someone who didn’t love me, and I have. Shit!”

She pulled away and stormed off. I could have caught her, but then I decided to let her go. What would happen, would happen. She was angry with me but furious at herself for assuming I felt the same. We would talk again. We had shared a truth between us that we had shared with no one else. Its feeble flame seemed dull against the raging backdrop of her passion, but it was there burning nonetheless.

I followed her back to the house. By the time I reached the top of the driveway, she was opening the front door. I heard it slam from where I was. It was hard to imagine a door of that size slamming, but she had managed it. Logic and passion do not speak the same language.

Whether I finessed it or not, the situation with Bruni was bound to get stormy. Storms were in her nature, but I had another more pressing thought that nagged at the back of my mind: what exactly might I expect from her mother? It was a question I could barely comprehend, let alone answer. Bruni was a tiger, but a young one in comparison to the adult female of the species. Bruni might rip me to shreds, but Elsa would eat me alive. I needed to get through lunch, and then Johnny and I needed to consult with Stanley most urgently.