Robert agreed, seeing a chance to get closer to his wife at least in a social setting. He called Maryanne to arrange a joint visit:
- We need to appear there together. Gabriel said it’s important for the project’s image.
She paused for a few seconds, then replied:
- I understand. Alright, I’m in. We can stay at the same hotel, but take separate rooms. You don’t mind?
- Of course, whatever suits you, — Robert answered quickly. — Thanks for agreeing.
- It’s important for the business, — she said simply and bid farewell.
Robert leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Two weeks until the event, but he was already nervous. What would it be like—appearing together at the gala, where he’d be questioned about family life, and he could hardly answer informally?
The day of departure arrived. Robert and Maryanne, along with several employees, arrived in Los Angeles. A luxurious hotel awaited, where many gala guests stayed. In the grand foyer with marble floors, VIPs flitted: famous entrepreneurs, showbiz stars, politicians. Photographers and journalists bustled, hunting celebrities.
Maryanne arrived a bit earlier, so Robert saw her already in the hotel when they crossed in the lobby. She had a business suitcase, in an elegant suit, and looked at him without particular emotions. They exchanged duty smiles.
- Have you checked in? — he asked.
- Yes, my room’s on the twelfth floor. Yours is on the tenth, I think?
- Correct, — he nodded. — Meet at Gabriel’s reception this evening?
- Yes, — she replied. — Around seven. Just warning: I’ll leave right after the formal part; I have another meeting with a partner. Don’t want to waste time.
- Understood. See you then.
They parted, and Robert felt a bitter emptiness. He had almost grown used to her cold politeness, but each time hoped for a miracle—that she’d smile like before and say something warm. Alas, it didn’t happen.
That evening, the reception for the select few took place. The rented hall gleamed with luxury: high ceilings with molding, massive chandeliers, gold-framed mirrors. Waiters glided with trays of champagne and exquisite appetizers. Guests, dressed to the nines, laughed, chatted, exchanged cards and courtesies.
Robert arrived early, in a tuxedo, feeling confident. He knew how to behave in elite circles and was acquainted with many guests. But his heart beat faster—he awaited Maryanne. And when she entered escorted by Gabriel Monten, the hall seemed to hush for a moment. Her deep dark-green dress perfectly accentuated her figure and harmonized with her dark hair, makeup making her gaze more expressive. She smiled in response to compliments, but her smile held caution.
- Here you are, the beautiful couple! — Gabriel proclaimed, greeting Robert and leading Maryanne closer. — Add charm to our gala with your presence. Mr. Hayes, you’re incredibly lucky with your spouse.
Robert smiled faintly, and Maryanne merely nodded. Soon journalists approached, asking them to pose together for photos: «The Hayes couple—epitome of success and style.» Maryanne reluctantly agreed, posing beside her husband. For an instant, he felt her hand touch his shoulder, and it burned unexpectedly. Seemingly trivial, but Robert realized how he missed a simple gesture of closeness.
- Thank you, — Maryanne said when photographers left. — I think we’ve done our part.
She tried to head to a group of colleagues, but Robert caught up:
- Wait, Maryanne. Maybe have a glass of champagne together before Gabriel drags us to other reporters?
She hesitated a second but nodded:
- Alright, let’s. But not long.
They took glasses and stepped aside where the live music was quieter. Several pairs twirled in a light waltz on the improvised dance floor. Robert looked at his wife and said softly:
- You look stunning. I haven’t seen you in such an elegant outfit in ages. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel beautiful before.
She responded with a strained smile:
- Thanks. I didn’t wear such outfits before. No money, no reasons. But now there are. Look how everyone gazes at you—with admiration.
She glanced at the dancers and softly asked:
- Want to dance?
The question caught Robert off guard. He hadn’t expected initiative from her. But nodding, he set down his glass and offered his hand. She placed her palm in his, and they headed to the dancers.
The melody was unhurried. Robert embraced Maryanne by the waist, keeping respectful distance, not pressing too close. Their movements were smooth; they glided across the floor, barely exchanging words. Only occasionally meeting eyes. And in one such moment, Robert thought tears glistened in her eyes. But she immediately looked away.
In this silence and proximity, under the music, he recalled their first wedding night, dreams of the future, her laughter as she frolicked in his arms. Recalled buying her inexpensive flowers, and her joy like a child’s. How much had been lost… Tears welled in his eyes, but he pretended to blink.
When the music ended, they stopped and froze for a moment, not releasing each other. But then another reporter approached with a question:
- Mrs. Hayes, what do you say about your joint project’s prospects?
She immediately pulled away from Robert and turned to the camera, starting some standard talk about development plans. Robert sighed and stepped aside, realizing the illusion of closeness had dissipated.
Later, tired of the gala’s bustle, Robert went out to the spacious balcony where it was quieter. The night was cool, but the air clean and invigorating. Below spread Los Angeles lights, and in the distance, the illuminated Hollywood sign was visible. He breathed deeply, feeling his heart pound after all events.
- Aren’t you cold out here? — a familiar voice suddenly sounded behind.
Turning, he saw Maryanne. She stood in the doorway, holding a glass of white wine.
- Decided to get some air, — he replied, smiling slightly. — And you?
- Tired too, — she admitted. — All these social chats, smiles when inside you’re exhausted… And our play at a happy couple drains me. Sorry you have to participate in this.
- I know, — he murmured. — But it’s for the business.
- I get it, — she stepped onto the balcony and stood beside at the railing. — Sometimes I want to not see any of this. Escape where no pretending is needed. Where I can be myself.
He looked at her carefully:
- And who do you see yourself as without all this business trappings?
She closed her eyes and answered quietly:
- The person who loved walking by the riverbank, reading books in silence, caring for animals at the shelter. I haven’t stopped charity work; now I just have more resources.
Robert felt sudden warmth, recalling how she loved dogs and cats, collected strays from the street, brought them home, and nursed them. Back then, he disapproved of these «follies,» scolded that the house might get diseases and extra hassles.
- And I, — he said barely audibly, — don’t know who I’d be without business. All life striving for money and influence. But joy might have been in something else.
They stood silently, listening to the distant city hum. It seemed a bit more—and they’d reach out, forgive everything, merge in embraces. But pride, pain, and doubts hindered. Finally, Maryanne sighed:
- I have an early flight tomorrow to a meeting in Chicago. Gabriel asked me to replace him at a conference. Think I’ll head out right in the morning.
- I’m flying back to New York tomorrow too, — Robert responded quietly. — Probably see you at the office or site. Take care.
- Thanks, — she nodded and left, leaving him alone with thoughts again.
After the gala came new working months. The project developed; all participants were satisfied with results. Robert and Maryanne often met at meetings. To the surprise of those around, they learned to dialogue constructively. Their opinions rarely diverged, as both knew the market and acted beneficially. But personally, everything remained in limbo.
One day during technical construction discussions, an unforeseen situation arose. At one site, serious foundation violations were detected, risking collapse. Urgent measures were needed, meaning large additional investments. An emergency meeting was called with all parties, including Robert, Maryanne, and Gabriel who flew in for inspection. The atmosphere was tense—the error threatened losses and lawsuits.
- Ladies and gentlemen, — the engineer said, nearly trembling, — we must immediately reinforce the foundation, demolish part of the structure. This will cause months of delay and colossal costs. But otherwise, we risk safety.
Gabriel asked:
- Who’s responsible? «Hayes Real Estate» or our contractor?
Robert, looking at papers, realized blame partly lay on his company for negligence in sub-contractor choice. If it surfaced, reputation would suffer. Maryanne, glancing at documents, understood the same. A heavy pause ensued. Partners froze warily, awaiting what Hayes would say. And he was silent, assessing how to wriggle out—maybe blame contractors?
But suddenly Maryanne, resolutely folding papers, said:
- We won’t play blame-shifting. Part of the fault is on the contractor and «Hayes Real Estate.» I propose immediately adopting a joint strategy to save the site. «Velara» will support with additional funding, and «Hayes Real Estate» commits to replacing all unreliable sub-contractors at its expense and providing safety guarantees. We should think not about avoiding losses now, but about not losing market trust.
Gabriel looked at her attentively, then shifted to Robert:
- Mr. Hayes, are you ready for such terms?
Robert could object, seek a better compromise. But looking at his wife, he saw confidence and firm resolve in her eyes. And realized she chose honesty and was ready to fight for the project without solely blaming contractors.
- Yes, — he said slowly. — I accept Maryanne’s proposal. My company will handle problem elimination, new contractor payments, and additional oversight.