He shouldn’t have canceled on me, Adair thought as she drove wildly toward Le Beau Château on Monday morning. She had already stopped by Jack’s Westport apartment, his Cannondale yoga studio, and the charity office. How could he cancel on me two weeks in a row so close to our benefit? We have things to discuss. Details that need to be worked out. And I miss him. Doesn’t he miss me? He didn’t even give me an explanation. “Can’t meet today. Sorry. -J.T.” was the extent of it. He didn’t even respond to my return text. For all I do for him, the least he can do is keep our private sessions.
Once the gate opened, Adair whirled her hunter-green Volvo V50 Sport station wagon into the estate’s gravel driveway, kicking up more stones than a municipal snowplow. Once her car was close to the home, Adair noted several cars parked in its courtyard.
So Jack is here, she thought, spying his white Toyota Prius. Having finally found him, she began to calm down. Whose car is next to his? she wondered. Is that Kate Musto’s car? Looks like it, but there are so many black BMW M5s in this town. Why would they be here together? He told me he doesn’t hold private sessions here. Maybe they’re going over the final details of the dinner menu? If so, I should be involved. Adair parked and stormed toward the home.
Entering the double-height foyer, Adair was halted by its elegance. They rarely design homes like this anymore, she thought. Everything is in proper proportion; its details are all congruous.
The lavish mansion was decorated in a Swedish country style common in original French château homes. The paneled walls were custom-tinted an ethereal, pale bluish-gray. Cream limestone lined the floor and ran up the stately staircase, which, along with its hand-wrought bronze banister, gently curved toward the second floor. A large, antique bronze lantern hung in the hall’s center above a round French country antique table, and a series of gilt-framed abstract landscapes in subtle hues of blue, gray, and lavender lined the walls. Just being in the space relaxed her, as classically designed homes often did.
Adair had never been in Le Beau Château before. Jack had never invited her. He had never told her about his sexcapades, understanding that, despite her dedication to him, she wouldn’t approve. Even if she was a full believer in kundalini, sexcapades fell too far out of her model of good behavior. It would be righteous and hypocritical of her—she was a married woman sleeping with her yoga instructor after all—but Adair had always found ways to justify what she called her “guilty pleasures.” With Jack, it was Hugh’s fault. There was no intimacy left in their marriage. His only interest in their life together was what directly involved their children.
Adair walked through the impressive foyer’s large coffered arches in search of the kitchen.
If they’re planning the menu, they’ll be in the kitchen, right? she thought. Adair found it. It was the original scullery kitchen and butler’s pantry, filled with industrial-style appliances, zinc countertops, and handsome custom cabinetry complete with hand-wrought pewter knobs. It was just like the ones in period homes she had toured. This is so much more attractive than the showcase kitchens of today, she thought.
But it was empty, so she searched the informal and formal dining rooms but didn’t find Jack or Kate or even a housekeeper. She walked out onto the expansive slated patio. She saw no one but a few men working in a far-off garden.
Could Jack be upstairs? Adair wondered. Maybe hosting a private session? Adair knew Kate was one of his clients. What had Kate said during their lunch at Mon Petite Café?
“I take private sessions with him and he’s always very professional. I think he only has sex with a select group of his clients.”
Remembering Kate’s comment reassured Adair, and she walked to the staircase.
As she climbed the stairs, Adair ran her hand along the cool metal banister and looked into the driveway’s courtyard, again wondering who owned the black BMW.
That can’t be the landscapers’, she thought.
The upstairs consisted of a long hall with rooms branching off of it. The walls were the same airy, light blue-gray tint of the first floor, and the whitewashed flooring was lined with a pale-gray Stark runner. With the exception of a few linen closets, all the hallway’s doors were open. Adair peered inside each of them, noting large, secondary bedrooms decorated beautifully but with no personal touches.
No one has ever made one of these rooms their own, she observed.
At the end of the hall was a closed door. She heard the ethereal, meditative sound of Enya floating into the hallway.
Finally, she thought. Jack must be in this room.
* * *
When Jack had called Kate the night before to confirm her sexcapade with Carly, he had discussed, once again, the importance of her learning to trust men.
“You’ve been abused, Kate, by your husband and when you were raped at the gas station as a young girl, but not all men will abuse you,” Jack said. “It’s important for you to learn to trust men again for your personal growth, for your personal happiness. It’s important for the advancement of kundalini’s movement through your chakras.”
Kate was slowly falling in love with Jack. His kindness, his empathy was winning her over. He doesn’t realize it, but I am learning to trust men again through my relationship with him, she thought.
And as much as she enjoyed the tenderness of being with Carly, she recognized that she wasn’t a lesbian. I’m just not as turned on with her as I have been with men in the past, she’d thought during their last two sessions.
So while they were talking on the phone, she invited Jack to join her and Carly the following day to not only watch, but to participate. She wanted it to happen in the estate’s master bedroom. For all the luxury of the safe room, a part of her was always aware of the security aspects of the space: the room of monitors, the alarm panels not far from the bedroom, and the tinted windows. For Kate, it was inhibiting in a locked-down kind of way. She wanted to be in the master bedroom that she had walked through each time they went to the safe room. Its bed was luxurious and there was more natural light in the space.
Jack agreed. He gave the housekeeper the day off, had the property’s landscape staff work on areas far from the home, and asked Kevin to have a patrol officer in the area. No one ever just shows up to the house, he convinced himself. If this is what she needs to include me, we can do it.
Despite his best efforts, Jack had fallen in love with Kate, too. There was so much to like about her. She was beautiful and smart and kind. Equally appealing to him was that she needed to be saved.
* * *
I’m finally going to see a human being, Adair thought as she opened the door to the master bedroom and was greeted by a lovely formal sitting room. Enya was radiating from an adjoining room. He’s never put Enya on our private session playlist, she thought. And he’s never invited me here.
Adair started to think twice about walking farther into the master suite. If Jack’s in a private session and I barge in, he will be furious with me, she thought. He’s warned me about my impulsivity in the past. But, if that is in fact Kate’s car, then he did cancel on me for her. But what if it’s not her car? Who did he cancel on me for? I have to find out.
Adair tiptoed down a short arched hallway toward the bedroom. As she walked, her hand ran along the wall. This is Venetian plaster, she thought. This home is so refined.
Expecting to see two yoga mats and two clothed bodies, Adair was shocked to peek around the corner and instead find Kate and a woman naked in bed together. As Adair stepped a bit closer, she saw Jack seated cross-legged in a club chair to the right of the bed, watching them, encouraging them.
He’s dressed, she thought, oddly relieved.
Jack told Kate to “give Carly lip.” Kate stopped kissing the other woman and, after giving Jack a coy smile, proceeded to go down on her.
What is she, a puppet? Adair angrily thought. He’s into lesbians? He never told me that.
Next, Jack stood and walked toward the women. Kate’s long hair blocked his full view. He gently combed her hair back with his fingers and held it in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. He laid his hand on Carly’s undulating stomach.
Adair wanted to lunge into the room and strangle him. You canceled our private session—an appointment that’s been on your calendar for five years—for this? For the cheap thrill of seeing two women fool around? I signed on with you when you had so few clients, before your yoga studio, before your following. When you barely had enough money to eat!
Forbidden by her parents to naturally express her anger, Adair had always been afraid of it. It would rise and she would instantly try to quell it, transferring it into a racing heart and trembling hands. Even if what upset her wasn’t her fault, what followed was self-blame.
I don’t own him, she thought standing in the hallway. I don’t have a right to think that I do. I’m married, after all. It had always been easier for Adair to blame everything on herself. When she turned her anger inward, no one would hit her, no one threatened abandonment or disownment. Her parents were the only ones allowed to get angry in her home.
This is my fault, she thought. I shouldn’t have tried to find Jack today. I don’t own him. I share him.
Jack pulled Kate from Carly and started to passionately kiss her before laying her vertically on the bed. He placed his hands near her head and hovered over her, his thighs pushing into her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he told her while staring into her eyes. “You are absolutely beautiful.”
As if on cue, Carly stood and walked toward the master bath. The movement frightened Adair. She didn’t want to be seen, especially not by Jack, not in this state. She felt completely out of control.
Adair quietly took two steps back. She realized that nearly ten minutes had passed since she first saw them. She heard the bathwater pulse through the home’s original plumbing. It gave her the confidence to peer forward one more time. Jack and Kate’s eyes were locked, and he was in the process of removing his shirt.
I have to get out of here, she thought. I can’t see any more.
Adair turned and ran down the hall, away from that room, away from that magnificent home. As she pulled her car out of the courtyard as quietly as possible, she thought, Jack is in love with Kate. Not me.