Page 29 of Power Games

She was, of course, the principal subject of discord between Izzy and him. Vanessa wasn't the only thing they argued about, by a long shot. She was, however, the only topic Charles wasn't budging on. He was entirely unwilling to compromise any more than he already had.

He didn't go out of his way to see her anymore, but no amount of nagging, screaming, or accusations from Izzy had made him cut ties with Vanessa. Charles contacted her when he had reason to congratulate her. He made a point of calling her in front of Izzy, so that his wife could hear the conversations for herself. They were normally friendly but innocent.

"Hey, Vanessa. I heard your song on that perfume ad. I see you're still kicking ass."

"Charles! Thanks for calling. Yeah, I couldn't believe it when I got that opportunity. Anyway, how are you doing? And how's Izzy?"

"Good, good. We're both great. You?"

"Awesome. I'm working on a new album."

"Let me guess, something calledMen Suck."

She'd found her sweet spot: break-up songs and girl-power lyrics cursing men to hell and back. Needless to say, her fans were begging for more.

"You know what, I might actually use that."

"Great. I'll only take half of the royalties, please and thank you."

"Ahah. Hey, I just arrived at my dance studio and Andrei is such a slave driver. Gotta dash."

"Have fun."

And that was that. His dose of Nessie. The highlight of his month.

Pathetic, concerning, and unhealthy as it was, he wasn't giving it up.

Izzy sulked because she couldn't find anything to say against the short exchanges, but with time, Charles could see that she was getting used to the calls, accepting them.

What she couldn't deal with were the very occasional, and always fortuitous, face-to-face meetings.

He hadn't purposefully planned to meet her since the hospital, but they did run in the same extended circle, particularly now that Charles was purposefully interacting with politicians. He saw her once at an art gallery opening in Oregon. Izzy had been there; she'd looked like she'd swallowed a sour lemon the whole time, although Vanessa just came to say hello, then kissed both of their cheeks before returning to her friends. And her date. Despite the breakup songs, she dated various guys.

Charles wasn't asking himself if they were also Hollywood relationships. He wasn't.

The second time hadn't been a photo op: he'd gone skiing in Canada with a bunch of guys from college, including Barrett.

Izzy hadn't been there. One might have thought that mentioning that he'd seen Vanessa on the slopes would have earned him brownie points for honesty. One would have been mistaken.

Again, she'd had her own friends around: Kaia, Rob, and another bunch of A-listers.

"Charles," said Rob, punching his shoulder lightly. "Heard so much about you. What are the odds?"

"Right? I would have thought you guys were more the Aspen type."

"They are," Kaia replied. "Nessie's dad has a place there and Rob bought a chalet. But that's where the paps are expecting to see us, so, a random mountain in Nowhere, Canada is the place to be if you want some peace and quiet."

They barely interacted at all. Rob and Vanessa could have been pros, the way they raced down the mountain, and Kaia was a decent snowboarder. Charles had only started skiing in his late twenties. It was fun, but he sucked, spending more time on his ass than he did upright. His friends were varying degrees of terrible.

They ate at the same pub twice, but they stuck to their respective tables.

Charles had spoken to Vanessa once after the miscarriage, to tell her that he felt like a piece of shit, and that he was going to try to do right by his wife. She'd said, "Maybe we should try to keep our distance, then. You know. We wouldn't want Izzy to assume things."

And that was that. As much as he wanted to cross the room and engage her in a conversation about anything, he didn't.

Two random meetings in a year. Twenty-seven phone calls. That was as close as he could get to keeping his distance from her.

Two months ago, he'd started calling more frequently, from the office. There was a reason behind that, though.

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