When Estel landed in New York, she was shocked to see Henrick Larson waiting for her. As she peered at him above the heads of the crowd, she couldn't imagine how he had known of her arrival. Upon emerging from her room at Michael's home, and seeing that he had left the house shortly after leaving her room, she had taken advantage of the circumstance to ask Albert Jones to drive her to the airport in Aspen. She had been vague about why she had to leave, stating only that she had to attend to an "emergency" in New York. Her guilt about Michael was buried under the weight of the other feelings she was experiencing, and she accepted that it was simply another burden she would have to face. When she reached him, Henrick's expression was generally frustrated, but once he saw the stress in her face and the defeat in her eyes, he stifled his natural impulses and gave her a harsh hug. The moment he let go of her, he held her away from him, shook his head in exasperation, and moaned. "Damn it,
For the following two days, Estel did not leave the house and instead dove headfirst into her mind to figure out who she was and where she was heading. Though she was physically and psychologically spent by Sunday evening, she was generally pleased with her findings. No longer did she feel the need to berate herself professionally. In general, she was pleased with her output. This was something she'd always done. She felt no desire to explore other avenues, but rather a renewed commitment to excel at what she was currently doing. In a twist of fate, Michael should be credited with expanding the scope of that achievement's viability. He, not Peter, had been successful in convincing her of the value of literature outside of the genres she had previously regarded acceptable for publishing. She even found herself smiling as she thought back on her prudish past, wondering how she had ever thought she was qualified to be the last judge of everyone's appropriateness. Each book has a unique
A manuscript was left in the middle of Henrick's desk a few weeks later when Estel came into his office. He inquired, "What's this?" with a sluggish lack of interest. The magazine he was clutching in his arms depicted faraway paradise islands, proving that he had caught spring fever once again. He always said he would go away, but he never did. Instead, he just waited until his spring fever subsided and his normal level of energy returned. Estel sat on the edge of his desk, dangling a toned leg over it, and grinned up at him. " Michael 's book," she put it pithily. "It's ready to go to press." "Oh?" Henrick's eyebrow was lifted in a carefree manner as he attempted to conceal the curiosity that Estel knew was eating him alive. For weeks, she had ignored his prodding, refusing to share Michael's book with anybody. The process of editing it had been far too sensitive to risk discussing with someone of Henrick's confessed pessimistic attitude. "Is it any good?" he questioned, his tone i
Now, she focused on her work to dull the ache of disappointment that had settled in her chest, and she forced herself to ignore the dissatisfaction she felt at the words she read that weren't Michael's. She had finally found some peace when Henrick burst into her office. His craggy face lit up with excitement. He yelled, "Damn it, Estel, you've done it!" as he yanked her from her seat and gave her a bear hug. Estel was taken aback by Henrick's outburst of emotion, and she leaned away from him to cast a suspicious glance in his direction. "Have you been drinking?" she snapped at him. "Hell, no, I've been reading!" Henrick answered, unfazed by her dismissive demeanor. "And I've been talking to Michael." He ignored her puzzled look and sent her on her way so she could pace excitedly around the office. "I never thought he would come up with something like this," Henrick said with a laugh and a tone of disbelief. "I mean, I knew he could!" He continued his conversation with himself as th
Henrick Larsen stands over his desk, flipping through a manuscript. He glances up as James enters, a bright smile crossing his face. “Hello, Henrick!” James said in greeting, a wide grin on his face. “James! About time you showed up, buddy.” Henrick said excitedly! “Henrik! Sorry, I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic. How have you been?” James said smiling. “Never better. Now, let me introduce you to someone special.” Henrick led James towards Estel’s room. He knocked once and let himself in. Estel was focused on editing a manuscript at her desk. “Who's that?” James whispered to Henrick while observing Estel. “That, my friend, is Estel Bremmer, our brilliant editor. She's the one who works her magic on manuscripts, turning coal into diamonds.” Henrick said proudly. “She sounds like someone worth knowing.” James was impressed. Henrick strides over to Estel's desk, motioning for James to follow. Estel looks up, momentarily startled by their approach. She and Henrick had just
She had caught him several times looking at her plight with a stoic delight, which had the effect of making her feel sick. As she saw him lean down to kiss his current admirer quickly, she thought bitterly that Michael was proving to be a master at torturing people in every way possible. Every single thing that he said to her was intended to be hurtful, and every single glance that he gave her was scornful. He was wringing his pound of flesh out of her with a seeming lack of effort, and Estel had not yet mustered the willpower to deny him the gratification he was seeking. In due course, she will. She came to the awareness that despite the cloud of misery she was moving through these days, she acquired hope as a result of the revelation. It was the only thing that had allowed her to make it through this incapacitating event. She could not have done it without it. But she was not at that place yet, and she glanced down at her watch with depressing melancholy to see that it would be at l
Estel understood that his emphasis on the term "young" in his dismissal of Piers was directed more at her ears than those of Piers. On the other hand, it had the opposite impact of humiliating her dignity. As Michael pulled her away with him, she offered Piers an apologetic, lovely grin. Then she transformed it into a sneer as she was forced to follow along in Michael's wake. She snarled at him and said, "What do you think you're doing, Michael?" as he flung her light jacket over her shoulders and shoved her out the door. "What do you think you're doing?" "You didn't even apologize to the hosts for leaving early!" "Yes, I did," he said in a voice that was taut with rage that was under control. "I'm not quite the barbarian you think I am." She allowed herself to respond to him in a way that had a double meaning by saying, "You don't know how I think of you." She continued while in the throes of her own rage, "But wouldn't you have been slightly embarrassed if I had refused to leave w
It didn't take long for him to answer. "Everything you say is true, Estel," he said, without Estel being able to detect any softening in his tone. "But that doesn't change the fact that the child was mine." Since it was evident that you did not want it, you should have had the courtesy to inform me about it so I could take it and bring it up on my own. "And how was I to know that, Michael?" Estel said as she turned to see his rigid and uncompromising face. Her eyes glowed with the anguish and rage she felt."I didn't know you," she said with self-righteous indignation. "I'm sorry." And I didn't care for the parts of you I knew about. How exactly was I supposed to know that you wouldn't laugh in my face when you ultimately failed to live up to your responsibilities?" The response from Michael was softly implacable; he said, "All you had to do was ask," but you didn't. You just hurried to a doctor, and—" He cut herself off, the ferocity that lurked just beyond the surface of his civiliz
Estel, who was eight months pregnant, sat at her desk, engrossed in editing manuscripts. Michael enters the room, a mix of excitement and hesitation evident on his face. “Hey, love.” Michael was grinning widely “Hi there. What brings you by?” Estel Looks up, smiling at the sight of Michael. “I have something to tell you.” Michael takes a seat opposite Estel, fidgeting nervously. “Is everything alright?” Estel looks concerned. “Oh, everything's fine, more than fine actually. Next month, I'll be heading to Canada to promote my books.” Michael clasped his hands. Estel's expression changes, a flicker of concern crossing her face. “Canada? But Doctor Jill advised against traveling, especially now.” Estel’s brows furrowed. “I know, I know, but this is a big opportunity. Nancy Wilson, the literary agent, is organizing everything, and she wants me there for a series of events.” Michael explained. “And who else is going
The expression on Michael's face conveyed a mix of chagrined amusement and annoyance at her choice to bring up his prior actions that he deeply regretted, as well as her timing in doing so. But suddenly, his mouth twisted up in a sneaky smile, and his eyes gleamed with the same naughty mirth dancing in Estel's. After a split second, he had her held hopelessly beneath him, and he glared menacingly down at her during the entire ordeal. He muttered in a frightening tone, "You're right, woman," as she resisted and laughed while being held down by him. He held her wrists while he lifted himself slightly to cast a leering, appraising view over her body. He said, "Taking you to court might be a little drastic, but I am entitled to some revenge for the torture you've put me through these past months, and I think I know just how to go about it." He said this as he raked a leering, appraising eye over her body. He asked the question in a tone that suggested he was a prosecuting attorney with s
Afterward, Michael felt more at ease and continued with his explanation. "When I saw you in Hendrick's office that day, I knew I couldn't leave things as they were. I'd been thinking about you for months, wanting you, and hating myself for what I'd done to you and for what I'd ruined. I had already chosen to write The Essence of a Woman. When you stepped in, I realized I had the ideal opportunity for a second chance. It was your sort of book; it had the potential to gain your respect, and while you were working on it, I believed I could win you over. Estel's mouth scrunched up in response to his statements about earning her respect. Still, Michael did not allow her an opportunity to respond to his statement. "Only I kept repeating myself with you," he said with regret, "making the same mistakes repeatedly." "I couldn't keep my hands off you, and I couldn't keep from trying to break through that shell of yours and get at the woman I sensed was there. As a result, I ended up making you
Michael faced her, staring down with a sardonic and caustic attitude that made it clear that he was now a man... Estel sees him as a man in every sense of the word. After that, a serious look came over his face, and he again turned his head aside. He stated it with a strain in his voice, "I'm canceling our agreement, Estel," and the tone of his voice was harsh. Estel found herself suddenly gasping for air, and she began to shake where she was standing until she noticed a log that had just fallen nearby. She quickly moved to sit down on the log to prevent herself from falling. She questioned him, "What exactly do you mean, Michael?" with a lack of expression that belied the riot of sensations that was going on inside of her. "What exactly do you mean?" He stepped closer to her but refused to look into her eyes, even as he did so. "You're free to go," he said gloomily. "You don't have to give me a child... and you don't have to stay married to me." Estel momentarily suppressed her exp
After a little pause in which they were both silent and Estel made no effort to break it, Mrs. Jensen proceeded, her tone more forceful and her stance more upright. "Fortunately, in those days, it wasn't easy to find someone willing to break the law that way, and I ended up going to a midwife who was less than effective." She cracked a wry grin without amusement. "When I stepped into that room and saw the primitive, unsanitary conditions..." She simply chuckled. "Well, I turned right around and walked out again. And I've never regretted doing so." After that, she shifted her attention to Estel while sitting in her chair with a thoughtful expression. "I tried to be a good mother to Michael, and I did love him, but he was always such an exuberant, affectionate boy, and I've never let my feelings show. Perhaps he interpreted my reserve as indicating that I didn't love him. But it wasn't and isn't true. The trouble is, I don't know how to let him know that since I find it as difficult now
By the time they boarded the plane to go to Aspen to visit Michael's parents, Estel was at her wit's end. She prayed to God for a miracle so that Michael would recognize her deep love for him. It would be a miracle in their marriage if only he could bring himself to love her as much as she loved him. Estel hoped that Michael's parents would convince him to love her. When Estel first saw the tall, stately, and beautiful woman who was Michael's mother and his father's equally tall but less awesome figure, she felt a surge of animosity toward the couple. She wondered if they were the key to Michael's inability to respond to the love she was offering him. Estel's first impression of Michael's mother and father caused her to feel this way. Estel had thought that Michael had made it past his childhood difficulties. Still, the people in his life may have permanently damaged him and given him an icy hole in his heart—a spot that he desired love to so severely fill. However, as Mrs. Jensen c
Dr. Jill's tone was tense and insistent as he said, "For the love of God, why not?!?" "Without honesty, a marriage is not good for much, Estel. Your husband has the right to know that you're not the type of woman to be so callous, and you have the right to his unstinting regard. Why are you refraining from honest communication?" As Estel closed her eyes, she pondered how to explain the situation, even though she wasn't entirely sure of the cause. "For one thing," she said as she opened her eyes and walked aside to peer into the dimly lit garden, "the child was his." She took a momentary pause and looked back at Dr. Jill, during which she noticed a dawning of comprehension in his eyes. She stated this with a delay in her voice that made it clear, at least to Dr. Jill, how profoundly the pain of that hatred had affected her. "He hated me when he found out I'd aborted his child," she added. "For all that I know, he probably still does," she said with a softer tone. Dr. Jill was about t
When Piers Shaw pointed her toward Lars Pederson's library, she was so focused on following him that she hardly heard him whisper, "Certainly." She had a strong desire to be left alone, but she was astute enough to recognize that Piers wouldn't abandon her if he believed she required assistance. She also realized that, at this time, having Piers assist her would be far preferable to asking Michael to accompany her. It was perfectly conceivable that Piers would go and tell her husband about her sudden unsteadiness if she refused to take his arm, and she couldn't risk that happening for the time being since she couldn't afford to. Just as they were about to enter the library, she heard Dr. Jill's soothing voice calling her name. "Estel! How good it is to see you again!" She had the need to flee, but after a little pause during which she was undecided about what to do, she gently turned around to find the elderly guy walking toward her with a warm greeting gleaming over his kind face.
Estel was overjoyed to see that her efforts had unquestionably been effective as Michael gave her first a fleeting look, then returned his sight to her a second time, his eyes widening with admiration as he took in the image she produced. Michael had arrived late and had to rush to get dressed. When he walked in, she was striking a nonchalant stance in front of the windows, even though her heart raced with panic. Her manner, however, was calm and collected. The shell-white, body-hugging dress was silky and flowed over one shoulder, revealing the milky tan. The garment clung closely to her shape and emphasized her curves. The only other jewelry she wore was a pair of gold earrings that dangled from her ears and a gold slave bracelet that she wore on the naked right side of her wrist. Her tresses were pulled away from her face and rolled into a complete roll at the back of her head. The light hanging above brought out the shimmering highlights in her hair. She was aware that she was be