The Fifth Avenue Story Society

by Rachel Hauck

  Finishing her soda, she headed for the door. Her phone pinged with a text from Lexa.

  Thinking of you.

  Headed down now.

  Can we talk later? I have a job offer from a bakery in Seattle.

  Coral froze. What? Lexa leaving? Why, she couldn’t. No.

  Absolutely. Seven o’clock? My place. I’ll send my driver.

  Really? Thanks.

  Matt knocked and peered in again. “The media room is standing-room only.”

  “On my way.”

  If Lexa left, what about their society? She hadn’t heard all of their stories, and her heart needed them.

  Rounding the walkway toward the stairs, Coral practically ran into Blaire. Her heart plummeted, taking the last of her nerve and strength.

  “Coral, what’s this big meeting about?” Blaire fell in stride, the legs of her flared black pants swaying over a pair of red Manolo Blahniks.

  “Team building.”

  Blaire rolled her eyes and sighed with exaggeration. “Please don’t tell me we’re doing some ridiculous trust-one-another game. We’ve all done those. Team is not our problem. Sales are our problem. What we need is to get back to CCW’s core brand and do our jobs.”

  “I hear you, but this is no team exercise you’ve ever done before.”

  “Bringing in the regional staff will hit our bottom line. You should’ve videoconferenced them in like Europe. By the way, the London and Paris offices were none too happy. It’s ten o’clock p.m. their time.”

  “They’ll survive,” she said with a glance at Blaire, the woman she had believed was her friend. “I’ve never had a four p.m. all-hands but I’ve had two six a.m. conferences with both London and Paris this year.”

  “I just have no idea why you’re wasting everyone’s time.”

  She marched down the center steps in unison with Blaire, amazed at the woman’s charade and conviction. For a moment, Coral almost doubted what she knew to be true.

  Like Matt said, the conference room was filled to capacity, every seat taken and a standing line along the wall and around the back.

  “Good afternoon, everyone.” Coral moved to the front of the theater. “This will be short and painful.” The light laughter rippled around the room.

  Most of the staff were on their phones, however, unaware she’d entered.

  Blaire sat on the end of the second row behind Dak and whispered something over his shoulder. He nodded with a sly grin.

  So it began. The “take-down” as Dad called it.

  She welcomed everyone, including those videoconferencing in. With Teddy’s help, she swiftly presented the actual year-to-date financials, using every muscle not to glance at Blaire and Dak.

  “Our new launch, Pink Coral, exceeded our first-year projections in the third quarter by twelve percent.” She clicked to another slide. “So far this quarter we’ve gained another three percent in the North American market and six internationally.”

  Dak shot out of his chair. “Coral, where are you getting these numbers?” Perspiration glistened on his forehead.

  “From our database, of course.” She smiled. “Since Pink Coral is killing it, I’ve decided to launch Crimson Coral for the holidays, a limited-edition lip gloss.”

  This time it was Blaire launching from her seat. “Since when? We’ve not even talked about Crimson Coral. Coral, what is going on?” She stepped out of the row and headed down to the front. Dak followed her.

  “We don’t have the revenue,” he said. “Coral, what database is feeding you these numbers?”

  “The financial database you and Blaire hid from me.”

  The side doors opened and uniformed agents with FBI printed on their jackets cruised into the room.

  A hush fell. Coral could hear Margo Chapman and her cold breathing in the first row.

  Everyone heard the click and snap of handcuffs as Blaire and Dak were arrested and read their rights.

  “This is an outrage.” Dak fought the man steering him toward the exit. “It isn’t true. You have no proof.”

  “Dak, shut up.” Blaire squirmed against the cuffs. “Coral, let me explain. We were going to pay you back.”

  “She wanted Pink Coral,” Dak shouted. “To create a new Glitter Girl. But she was going to pay you back. Honest.”

  Blaire kicked at Dak as she was led away. “I said shut up.”

  “I can’t go to prison.” Dak dug in his heels. “My wife will leave me. It was Blaire’s idea, Coral. All her idea.” Dak pleaded with the arresting agent, assuring him he’d talk, sing, spill the beans, whatever, just so long as they didn’t put him in prison.

  The hush deepened after the agents escorted a few other persons of interest to the upstairs conference room for questioning.

  With a steadying hand on the projector table, Coral detailed the embezzlement and fraud.

  Right then and there she fired Chris, head of IT, and promoted Teddy. She also promoted Mark Peeters, a long-time CCW employee, to CFO.

  “I should’ve given you the job in the first place, Mark.”

  For now, she’d take on the role of president and CEO.

  Then she glanced at her watch. Four twenty. And she was exhausted. Matt stepped forward to close the meeting.

  “When you return to your desks, please read the email that just went out. If you have any further questions, please see me for an appointment.”

  The room emptied without a word. The heavy reality of what just went down settled over them all.

  After the room emptied, Coral sat in the grand octagon-shaped theater alone, too drained to move.

  At last, she pushed up and made her way back to her office one step at a time.

  Matt met her there. “London’s on the line. This is the third time Ian has called.” He made a face. “He said everyone is blown away.”

  “How’d he sound?”

  “Honestly? Elated.”

  “Is he on phone or video?”

  “Phone, but Coral, there’s a man in your office.” Matt jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I tried to tell him you were busy, but he refused to leave.”

  Coral rounded the corner to see Chuck waiting in the shadows caused by the shift of the late-afternoon light.

  “Something told me to come.” He fidgeted with a nervous smile, digging his hands into his jeans pockets.

  She almost collapsed as she made her way to him. Weeping, she fell into his arms and buried her ordeal in his strong, broad chest.

  * * *

  Ed

  When he really thought about it, the story society made no sense. He was the odd man out.

  Jett and Lexa, Chuck and Coral, and then him. Ed. In his mind, his name dropped like a brick. Ed. Boring old Ed.

  He missed the way Esmerelda said it. Ed, or Eddie, with a lilt and a bit of va-va-voom.

  Sitting at his desk, hands on the Underwood, the paper in the roller, blank, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate.

  If he was going to continue with the story society, then he must work on his memoir. Otherwise, he might as well stay home, watch Jeopardy and Monday Night Football.

  However, no words came. What was it Jett said? Remember the good and bad times. Be honest. Real.

  Well, he’d climbed into the co-op’s attic this morning and carried down the Christmas decorations. With Halloween behind them now, the Christmas Cheer committee wanted to start planning, going over the lights, the fake holly wreath and garland, see what they needed new for this year.

  Christmas. Hmm . . . Esmerelda sure enjoyed the holy season. Mostly because it came with doctored punch and spiked eggnog.

  A memory suddenly surfaced, and Ed hammered at the keys. Oh boy, this was a good one.

  On December 4, Holly came smiling into the world. I’ll never forget riding home in the back of a taxi through a thick snow, holding her so close.

  Esmerelda had the idea to go all out for the holiday. You know, set up a big tree with lots of ornaments and lights, use ou
r new credit card to buy presents and throw a big party.

  We had the prettiest baby in the world, why not show her off? I invited the boys from the printing plant and she invited her society friends.

  The party was going to be a humdinger. We’d set it for the Saturday before Christmas, so the Friday before, we cleaned and polished the house.

  Around nine, we collapsed on the couch with a glass of wine and cuddled up, enjoying the pretty tree, a bit of Bing on the hi-fi and Holly sleeping close by in her bassinet.

  “Thank you, Eddie,” Esmerelda said. “For Holly, for this lovely Christmas.”

  I can still taste her lips.

  “Anything for you, my love. Anything for you.”

  Ed sat back, a bit drained, and reread his words. Should he go on? Write about the party? Maybe tell the truth?

  “Dad?”

  He glanced toward the kitchen as Holly entered with her usual tote bag full of fresh fruits and vegetables.

  “What are you doing here?” He ripped the page from the typewriter and tucked it inside his story society folder. Then put it in the drawer.

  “Same as I do every week.”

  “You come on Wednesdays. This is Monday.”

  “Dad, see this avocado? Eat it soon. It’ll go bad.” She smiled and began unloading, her eyes on him.

  He glanced at his watch—seven fifteen—then peeked inside one of the totes. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll lock up. Can I meet this society sometime?”

  “I-I’m not sure.” He felt nervous, jittery, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  Someone knocked on the door. Please, do not be Mabel. “I’ll call you later, Hol.” He kissed her cheek then took his jacket from the coatrack in the corner.

  When he opened the door, Chuck stood on the other side.

  “I had a fare up this way and thought I’d see if you needed a ride. If we’re going to get downtown by eight, we need to roll.”

  “Well, I’m ready.”

  But Holly was right behind him. “I’m Holly, Ed’s daughter.” His confident girl reached around Ed for a handshake.

  “Chuck Mays, Ed’s friend from the story society. You’re on Good Morning New York?”

  “I am.” She turned to Ed. “So, what do you do at this society? Dad hasn’t said much.”

  “Talk, mostly.” Ed shoved Chuck toward the door. “Lock up on your way out, Hol.”

  “Talk about what?” Holly said like a nosy reporter and producer.

  “Life,” Chuck said. “Our troubles. Broken relationships.”

  “We eat, too, Chuck. Don’t forget. Lexa’s turn this week, I believe?” Ed turned to Holly. “This one eats like a horse.”

  He had to calm down, stop acting so jumpy. It’s just he didn’t want to bring up Esmerelda in front of Holly. Not yet.

  “I’m standing right here, Ed,” Chuck said. “Have you seen Jett eat?”

  “Well, Dad has a lot of wisdom to offer.”

  “We love your dad’s stories about your mom.”

  “My mom?”

  Well, he’d said it. Dropped the grenade in the room. “We best be going, Chuck. We’ll be late.”

  “He tells us every week how much he and your mother loved each other.” Chuck bumped Ed with his elbow as he made his way from the apartment into the hall. “Gives us all hope. He’s even read some of his memoir to us.”

  “About my mother?”

  Ed’s eyes pleaded with her. Don’t . . .

  “Your mother is Esmerelda, right?” Chuck glanced at Ed’s empty hands. “You’re not bringing any more of the story with you?”

  “I’ve been kind of busy.” With that he shoved Chuck toward the elevator. “Good night, Holly.”

  “Night, Dad.”

  “She seems nice,” Chuck said, pushing the button for the lobby.

  “A peach.” Ed exhaled when the doors closed.

  Close. Too close. Where his real world almost destroyed his pretend.

  Chapter 33

  Jett

  Parking his bike inside the literary library foyer, he removed his helmet and jacket, then stooped to retie his Chuck Taylors.

  The snow from the weekend had melted when Sunday jumped into the fifties. But this afternoon, the sun disappeared behind a blanket of clouds, taking yesterday’s warmth with it.

  Heading toward the Bower, he hoped against hope it wasn’t his turn to bring the food.

  Meanwhile, the jitters of seeing Lexa filled him. She was heading to Seattle this week to find a place. He sort of prayed she’d hate the city. Hate the long flight. But who was he kidding? She was the girl who’d traveled the world as a kid.

  He also considered her assessment of their relationship. She was right. They were all wrong for each other. He didn’t exactly see it, but between the mess with Gordon, Mom’s wedding, and Storm’s memorial, he was primed for emotional hogwash.

  Just before he reached the Bower door, Gilda intercepted him. “Have you spoken to her, Jett?”

  Her cloaked comment pricked his patience. “Just say what you have to say, Gilda. And how do you know so much?”

  She adjusted the stack of books in her hand. “One truth. Opens a whole new world.”

  “What truth might that be?”

  She tapped his chest. “The one lingering in here.”

  Jett nearly slapped her hand back as he sidestepped her touch. “You don’t know me and my truth.”

  “Ah, well then . . .” Gilda moved around him, humming a tune that disrupted his inner man, and disappeared behind the door marked Private.

  One day he was going to barge in and see exactly what went on behind that door.

  Jett entered the Bower with an edge. “Sorry I’m late. A student stopped by my office—” The society stood by the food table, plates in hand, eyes on him. “Was it my turn?”

  “Dude, I just texted you an hour ago,” Chuck said.

  “I know, I know, and I was about to order subs when the student came in, distressed over her grade.” He pulled out his phone. “I got it. Pizza?”

  “I was thinking Ed’s pot roast.” Chuck said.

  “Or a nice, creamy squash soup,” Coral said.

  “From now on, the four of us will handle the food,” Ed said. “Jett, you just be our fearless leader.”

  “Sorry again. Maybe I truly am the absentminded professor.”

  “Actually, it will just be the three of you,” Lexa said, returning to her seat.

  Jett’s fingers trembled over his phone and he fat-fingered his search for pizza.

  “Already ordered,” Coral whispered, leaning close. “I have people.”

  He gave her a sheepish grin of thanks and lowered his backpack by his chair.

  “What do you mean, three of us?” Ed was in his seat, propped up, looking wise and aged. Like a good grandpa.

  “Lexa has a job offer in Seattle, Ed.” So, Coral knew too. “She’s flying out tomorrow to look at apartments.”

  “Won’t be the same without you, Lex. What if another mysterious invitation goes out and we have to accept a new person?” Chuck frowned and deflated a little. “I was just getting used to you weirdos.”

  “It’s what she does, you guys,” Jett said. “Times get rough, Lexa leaves.” He regretted his words the moment they hit the air.

  She speared him with a glance. “This is not the same thing. This is me growing up and moving on. I’ve never done this on my own before. My moves were with my family or you, Jett. But this company is super excited to have me on board. It’s a good opportunity.”

  “It’s a great opportunity,” Coral said.

  Coral, don’t back her up.

  Ed reached over and patted her arm. “Lexa, girl, we’ll miss you. This company must have impressed you an awful lot to leave us. We’ll make your last story society a slam-bam goodbye party. Now, did someone order pizza? I’m a bit peckish.”

  “On its way,” Coral said.

  Jett
noticed her hand resting on Chuck’s. At least someone in this silly society found love.

  “What’s going on with you two?” He pointed to their touching limbs.

  Coral giggled. The elegant, sophisticated beauty giggled. And the big guy’s cheeks turned a brick red.

  Coral spoke first, then Chuck. “I think we’re in love.”

  “Something told me to go by her office Friday afternoon.”

  “He had no idea the takedown was happening.”

  Together they detailed the arrest of CCW’s CEO and CFO during an all-hands meeting.

  “Holy Toledo,” Ed said. “How humiliating.”

  “I needed to scare honesty back into my troops. Lex, so after you and I talked the other night, five people have come to me privately to admit their part. They’re going to testify against Blaire and Dak in order to save themselves.”

  Chuck and Coral, Lexa and Coral, Ed and Chuck. The group was melding. Bonding. Jett cut a glance to his ex-wife. And she was leaving. He hated to say it but this was typical. He’d thought she’d changed.

  And just what truth was Gilda going on about?

  “When I came back to my office and saw Chuck, I fell into his arms.” Coral’s fingers intertwined with his as she peered up at him. “My rock.”

  He blushed again. “Don’t know how I can take the place of a prince but—”

  “I asked him to come to church with me on Sunday and he said, ‘Why not? I’ve been meaning to check out this God thing.’”

  “G-good for you two.”

  “Enough about us. Jett—your publication, the reception.” Coral raised the hand laced with Chuck’s. “I’m in plus one.”

  They laughed in harmony. Heaven help him, if they kissed, he’d puke. For real.

  “I’m in too,” Ed said, tapping his heart. “Esmerelda will come with me.”

  “I met Ed’s daughter tonight,” Chuck said. “Holly.”

  “A good girl, but we don’t need to talk about Holly.” Ed made a pffbtt sound.

  Jett turned at the knock on the door. “Food. Coral, what do I owe you?”

  When he opened the door, a stunning blonde from morning TV stood on the other side.

  * * *

  Ed