Chapter 14

Success.

Stan loosened his tie, slipped out of his shoes, and propped his feet up on the coffee table in Eileen's living room. It was finally over. The show was finished. His job was done. But the worst was yet to come.

He turned and gazed moodily out through the window. In the building across the street he saw a bedroom light go out. One of many, he knew. Evening had turned into night and people all over the city were saying hello to their pillows at the end of just another day. Lucky people.

The familiar sounds of Eileen's puttering reached him from the kitchen. Stan closed his eyes and tried to make himself feel calmer. Usually, those sounds relaxed him. Until tonight, hearing and sensing Eileen's presence always resulted in a feeling of security. But now, those sounds were pure torture. A painful reminder of reality, and its unpleasant necessities.

Tonight, the problem would have to be resolved, once and for all. A decision must be made concerning the future. There was no postponing the inevitable.

Again he tried to find consolation in his supposed victory. The show had been a success. A roaring success! Everybody had said so. Even Eva Stillwell had congratulated him heartily on a job well done. She had actually told him that he'd be well rewarded for his accomplishment. And that, Stan knew, had triggered the panic button inside of him.

Eva Stillwell wasn't the type of person given to effusion or idle promises. When she said reward, she meant just that. And now, Stan wished she'd kept quiet.

He remembered how he'd tried to tell her that the credit didn't belong to him, alone-that if not for the work of the entire department, and Eileen's invaluable assistance, he'd never have been able to carry off the show. But Eva wouldn't listen. All she could say was that he'd saved the day, and that she wouldn't forget him for it.

It was Eileen who had echoed Stan's fears on the way home from the studio. "Reward?" she'd said, with laughing eyes. "That's simple. Eva's probably going to give you Elliot's job."

The words were like a death knell. Stan had tried desperately to argue with Eileen, to convince her that she was all wrong. But the facts were clear and undeniable. Elliot hadn't shown up at the studio, or even bothered to call. That would be unforgivable in Eva's eyes. Elliot would have to be fired. And that left him, next in line for the job of Advertising Manager.

Success.

The word seemed to pound over and over at his temples. He chuckled bitterly and shook his head in disgust. Some success! He'd been scared right down to his shoes, every minute. Nervous. Unsure. And for this, people were congratulating him. Still, he reminded himself, he had done the job....

The throbbing in his head grew louder and more painful. Stan knew that he'd done more than enough thinking for one day. And yet, something inside him wouldn't allow him any peace. His body couldn't unwind and neither could his brain-not until things were settled. Not until he knew where he was going and what he was going to do about....

"Sandwiches are all ready." Eileen burst into the room, smiling and bright. The pride she felt for Stan still glowed on her face.

He whirled at the sound of her voice and tried to force a pleasant expression to meet Eileen's. It didn't work. He felt his features freeze in what he knew was a mask of inadequate pretense.

"Still knocking yourself out, huh?" Eileen shook her head in sad disapproval as she placed the tray of food on the coffee table. "What's wrong, can't you stand a little success?"

There was that word again. Stan recoiled inwardly at the sound of it. Somehow, the feeling he was experiencing was a long way from that which he'd always envisioned as the sensation of being successful. And yet, according to the standards of those around him, he was just that. And he knew he should be happy.

"But you know that tonight was a freak situation," he protested again. "And if you weren't there...."

"Nonsense." Eileen cut him off and sat down beside him. "You were the one who ran that shindig. Face it. You can do Elliot's job if you want to!"

Stan reached for a sandwich and decided not to comment. What was the use? Eileen believed in him. So much, that it was making her blind to the truth. He wasn't strong and capable. Just lucky.

"You meant what you said about Elliot's job, didn't you?" he asked softly.

"Sure did." Eileen answered between bites of her sandwich. "You're going to be a big man at Stillwell."

"And what if I told you I didn't want the job?" Stan wondered where he had gotten the courage to be so truthful. "What would you say then?" He waited for the reprimand.

"I'd say, don't take it." Eileen answered simply, shrugging her shoulders. "What's the sense of being miserable?"

Stan couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "You don't really mean that." He felt the joy and relief break out into a grin across his face.

"Of course I mean it." Eileen looked patiently at him, as if he were a simple child. "You don't think I'd want you to be unhappy just for the prestige of being an executive, do you?"

Stan moved impulsively to kiss Eileen's smooth cheek. If only Toni were capable of feeling that way.

Toni.

He felt the muscles in his stomach tighten along with the rest of his body. Toni was going to be overjoyed when she found out the news. And there wasn't a chance that she'd share Eileen's attitude about his happiness.

"What's wrong now?" Eileen asked, sounding as if she already knew.

"Looks like I'm trapped anyway." Stan returned to his previous position on the sofa and smiled tiredly. "Tom would never let me turn down Elliot's job."

"Do you have to listen to her?" Eileen's tone was soft, hopeful.

Stan started to answer but stopped suddenly, realizing that he didn't know the answer to that one at all.

"I'm sorry. Forget I said that." Eileen hurried to save Stan's feelings. But they both knew she was too late.

Stan finished the last sandwich and reached for a napkin. "What time is it?" he asked absently, his mind on other things.

"A little after eleven." Eileen yawned. "It's been quite a day."

"I think I'll take off, now." Stan knew suddenly that he had better be alone to straighten out his thoughts. The sensation of Eileen's closeness was beginning to cloud his mind. He knew that beneath her clothing a warm, supple body was available to shield him from the rest of the world. A few more minutes and he could lose himself in the comfort of her arms. He could distract himself with the ardor of her loving ...

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

Eileen's tone was joking, but Stan knew she wasn't, really. "Of course you will." He made his voice sincere.

But inside, he wasn't at all sure.

The Manhattan streets were very still. Stan walked slowly, still tasting the kiss on which he and Eileen had parted. He couldn't remember ever having felt more alone than he did at that particular moment.

He wanted to leave Toni. At least part of him did. Stan shoved his hands into his coat pockets and wished he could think more clearly. He knew he had to make some sort of decision before he got home. Only that way could he tell Toni what he wanted to do. Yes, tell her, Stan repeated to himself. He mustn't allow her to sway his feelings.

And yet, how could he avoid that? She was his wife. He must consider her desires. They should, by rights, share such decisions'. Marriage was supposed to be a partnership.

"Fat chance," Stan mumbled angrily under his breath. Once Toni found out that Elliot's job was available, all discussion would be closed. He would have no choice in the matter.

Maybe it would be best not to tell Toni anything at all about the job....

Coward! The voice of Stan's conscience screamed out at him. He crossed the street, vaguely hoping that a car would hit him.

No such luck. Stan stepped safely up onto the curb on the other side of York Avenue and realized that he'd have to fight tonight's battle all on his own. No matter how distasteful, no matter what the cost. The decision and its execution were his to work out.

The conflict felt as if it were about to crack his skull in two. He headed downtown, grateful for the privacy and anonymity of being a stranger in a large city at night.

He thought about Toni ... about telling her the truth. The anger rushed out and engulfed him. She'd never understand. She'd never agree. And it was his own damned fault. He should have set her straight years ago, Stan told himself, when she first conned him into going to work at Stillwell. He should have put his foot down then. Now, it was too late.

Perhaps if he tried to change things now ... no, that would never work. She'd been waiting too long.

Yes, waiting. Stan suddenly realized the profound truth in his thinking. Everything that Toni had done for them ... the house ... her friendship with Irma ... the big new car ... the invitation to the country club ... all of those things suddenly seemed to be a long preparation for something like this. And she'd worked hard at it too, he had to admit. How could he disappoint her now?

The gloom around him grew thicker. Toni certainly didn't see eye to eye with him when it came to values, but the woman was doing her best. She wanted him to get ahead. She wanted him to be a success, in her sense of the word. Did he have the right to say no?

The night air began to chill him. Stan buttoned his coat and hunched his shoulders up against the cold. And then, a greater cold, far more penetrating than the air around him, seeped into his bones.

If he took the new job, where would that leave him when it came to Eileen?

Nowhere. It was that simple. The job of Advertising Manager was more than seven hours a day. It required socializing, maintaining a front. A new house, probably. Country club membership, undoubtedly. A second car, unfortunately.

The more he thought about it, the more distasteful it became. He didn't belong there, Stan told himself. This was all a freak accident. Toni would have to agree....

No, she wouldn't. Not at all.

And then, the choice became clear.

It was going to be either Toni or Eileen.

He lit a cigarette and hailed a cab. The awareness of his obligation pressed down on his shoulders and threatened to force him to his knees. The taxi pulled up just in time. Stan crawled inside and yanked the door closed behind him. He gave the driver instructions and slumped down into the seat. The decision was made. There had really been no choice.

And again, Toni had won.