Kate, then Kate “Nelson,” left California to follow her daughter, Suzanne, who was married to Eileen’s daughter, Kerry. She had an apartment on the Upper West Side, in the 90s off Riverside Drive, and after working at a place she did not like had gotten enough in her divorce settlement—she was officially divorced about two months before—so that she could devote herself to working for the Episcopal Church in New York. She had been a life-long, conservative Catholic until she reevaluated her faith and her church in light of her daughter. Her ex, William Nelson, did not make the same adjustment. Which was why he was divorced civilly—neither, of course, was divorced in the eyes-of-the-Church—and living alone in his big house in Mill Valley, California.
“People at the Church set me up every once in a while and of course Kerry and Suzanne will never give up, but it’s always been one-and-done.”
“With Simon. Did you ever—?”
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell. You know that. Seriously. No, we never did. And he never pushed. I was never ready.”
“But sometimes I just want to sleep with someone.”
“Has there—?”
“No. William was and is my one and only. How pathetic is that?”
“Between us, Kate, if you want to go to bed with someone you’ll have no problem. Hell, if I were into straight, older women, I’d take you to bed this afternoon.”
“You Neally women do have a thing for us Nelson girls.”
“Stop. Listen, I just don’t know if you should do something like that to Simon too quickly. Would he do it? I’m sure he would. But I think he’s worth saving for the long term. To see what happens. But for your sanity, go to bed with the next one. Just enjoy sex. No-questions-asked/no-feelings-hurt sex.”
Which is how Kate Pugh came to be on Simon Douglas’s arm at the Guggenheim opening. It does not explain, however, how Simon Douglas came to be in Kate Pugh’s bed that evening.
Kate met Simon at Eileen’s wedding. Eileen, as noted, dated Simon before she fell for Tom Doyle. They got married, and that is how Kate met Simon. Neither had a “plus-one.” Kate was estranged from her husband, William. Simon had a series of lackluster relationships after Eileen told him that they had no future together, and he took it as well as could be expected, him having lost a woman for whom he pined for years. He thought enough of Eileen to be pleased that she found Tom.
He was not despondent. Far from it. He was an elder at his hedge fund and was becoming involved in several charitable projects in southern Connecticut and around New York City. He was wealthy, but not wealthy enough to have a foundation. He was generous with his money and generous with his time. When he got the invitation to the Guggenheim opening, he remembered that first date with Eileen and thoughts of Eileen led to thoughts of Kate and the nice conversation they had at Eileen’s wedding and that led to his leaving a voicemail for Kate that asked her to the opening.
The exhibit was as mystifying to Kate and Simon as the one in Greenwich had been to Eileen and Simon and again Simon had a wonderful time with his date, sipping champagne and nibbling on finger food. They walked to a restaurant on Madison Avenue where Simon made a reservation and afterward while the car, which would take Simon to Greenwich, headed through Central Park to Kate’s place off Riverside Drive—Eric, Kate’s son, had moved back to Yale—they found their hands touching and remaining that way. As they approached the apartment in the car, Kate asked if he would like to stop in for a drink. It was not actually Kate saying it. It was a part of Kate over which she had no control and it was something a moment before the right side of her brain had told her mouth: Do No Ask. It was like a finger pulling off a hot iron, done instinctively without the brain playing the least role in the act.
“You sure?”
She leaned over and kissed him. Her brain was sure, Eileen’s caution nowhere to be seen.
Simon signed off so that the driver was paid as if he drove to Greenwich and not simply across town. He followed Kate through the brownstone’s small lobby and up two flights of stairs. She fumbled with her keys before opening the door. The place was a mess—she spent too much time getting ready, and clothes and things were strewn about the apartment—but she did not care and she assumed Simon did not either.
When the door was closed, Kate grabbed Simon and pulled him to her. She had a fair share of goodnight kisses since moving to New York. This was not one of them. He was taken aback by her ferocity. She had him pushed against the door and her tongue was rifling through his mouth as her hands went beneath his jacket, seeking to tear his shirt from his trousers.
His arms were behind her back as he pulled her even closer. Now his tongue was spending as much time in her mouth as hers was in his, back-and-forth volleying until they needed to come up for air.
She backed off.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
Simon looked her in the eyes and gently ran two fingers of his right hand up and down her left cheek.
“I’m not. You are so beautiful.” He leaned in to her and his lips gently touched hers and he backed away.
They walked into the living room and Kate quickly moved a stack of magazines to the floor next to the sofa. They sat on it.
“I need to tell you something. I’ve only made love to one man in my life. My ex. I don’t—”