The Corporate Wife

by Leigh Michaels

  She was silent. “Slater…”

  “Yes?”

  She didn’t know what – if anything – she’d intended to say. Perhaps she’d only been trying out the name. “Nothing. Just – thanks.”

  They sat in silence while ambulances came and went, while the groups of patients and families in the waiting room formed an ever-changing pattern as the minutes ticked inexorably by.

  “Is there anyone else you’d like to have with you?” Slater asked gently. “The man you’re so fond of, for instance?”

  She was hardly listening. “Which man?”

  “The one who gave you the necklace you’re caressing.”

  She hadn’t realized she was fingering the chain again. “Oh, this.”

  “And the rose.”

  Dax? Almost involuntarily, she smiled at the very thought of Dax being summoned to her side. “No, thanks. Not just now.”

  Slater’s paper coffee cup collapsed in his fist. He looked at it for a long moment as if trying to figure out how such a thing had happened, then unclenched his hand and wiped the last few drops of muddy liquid off his fingers with his handkerchief. “Why? Because you don’t want to bother him?”

  Erin looked at him in surprise before she realized that since Slater didn’t know where the rose had come from, he couldn’t possibly recognize the humor in the suggestion he’d made. But she couldn’t exactly explain it, either. After this morning, when she’d let him believe that there was a special man in her life... This, she thought, is getting incredibly complicated.

  Only then did she pick up the second meaning in his words. “And I am bothering you, aren’t I? I’m sorry, Slater, really I am. You don’t have to stay, just because I said I don’t like the idea of waiting alone.”

  He glanced down at the wreckage of his cup and said mildly, “How about some decent coffee?”

  “There isn’t anything but the machine, is there?”

  “No, but within mere blocks there is a world-famous coffee house.”

  “I don’t want to leave here just now,” Erin pointed out. “But we’d have to go over, since they don’t deliver.”

  Slater gave her a wicked grin. “Do you care to make a bet?” He dropped his cup in the nearest garbage can and headed for a pay phone.

  *****

  Erin was toying with a slab of almond biscotti and drinking perhaps the best coffee she’d ever tasted when an emergency room clerk appeared at the waiting room door and called her name.

  She’d waited forever for this summons – it seemed years since she’d sat down in the worn vinyl chair. And yet, now that the moment had come, she was terrified. So long as there had been no word, she realized, she’d known that the doctors were still working, that her mother was still fighting. But had the clerk come to give her a diagnosis, or to tell her that Angela was gone, the battle over?

  Her fingers were too numb to keep her cup upright. Slater, sitting next to her, caught it, set it aside, and helped her to her feet.

  The clerk said, “Your mother’s being moved to intensive care, Miss Reynolds. I’ll show you the way.”

  Her relief that the news wasn’t worse gave way to a different, almost deeper fear. “Slater,” she said in little more than a breath. “You’ll come?”

  Across the waiting room, an elderly man badly in need of a shave picked up a biscotti from the enormous box the coffee bar had delivered and held it to his forehead in a parody of a salute. “Thanks, Mister!” he said. “This is almost as good as doughnuts!”

  There was a chorus of agreement from the other family members, most of whom were holding cups of gourmet coffee.

  The clerk looked bemused. “You ordered in enough coffee and biscotti for the whole crowd?”

  Slater said earnestly, “Only because when I called the coffee bar, the manager told me they never delivered orders under five hundred dollars.”

  “It was pretty foolish of him to think that would discourage you,” Erin murmured.

  “But that’s nonsense,” the clerk said. “Of course they deliver – for the hospital, at least. We’re always calling down for something.”

  Slater looked momentarily disturbed – not, Erin thought, because he felt he’d been conned into paying far too much, but because he’d been caught doing a good deed.

  “Well, please don’t tell the crowd in the waiting room,” he told the clerk. “They really enjoyed the story about the minimum order, and they were more than willing to help take care of the excess, just to do me a favor.”

  Erin tried to swallow her sudden case of the giggles and only managed to give herself hiccups.

  The clerk led them down the corridor to a cross hallway and gave detailed instructions for the rest of the trip. As soon as she was out of sight, Erin gave way to a fit of laughter. “The expression on her face....” she managed to say. “She was looking at you as if she was quite sure you could benefit from some serious testing yourself!”

  The reminder of their reason for being there tipped her laughter over almost into tears, and in sudden white-faced silence she clutched Slater’s arm.

  She told him again, sometime in the small hours of the morning as they sat in yet another waiting room, outside the intensive-care area where Angela was still undergoing what sounded like every test known to man, that she’d be fine and there was no need for him to stay longer.

  “It’s a long time between visits when you can only go in for a few minutes at a time,” he said simply, and he didn’t move.

  Erin was too touched by his compassion to argue. “You know first-hand what this is like, don’t you?” He didn’t answer right away, and curiosity flared deep inside her. She knew so much about the obscure long-dead Livingstones, and so little about this one. “Your parents?”

  “My mother was killed in a senseless accident,” he said finally. “There wasn’t time to say goodbye. My father – well, there was far too much time, at least from his point of view. But that’s all ancient history, except for the fact that yes, I do know what it feels like to have a parent in danger. And I don’t have brothers and sisters to share the load, either.”

  “No wonder Aunt Hermione is trying to marry you off,” Erin murmured. “If you’re the only twig left on your branch of the family tree...” It was quite a challenge, she thought hazily, to picture Slater as a twig. An entire trunk, perhaps, but not a mere slender shoot. “I suppose she’d expect a half-dozen little Livingstones.”

  “I think I can safely ignore what Aunt Hermione wants.”

  “That’s what I told you. Remember?” She yawned and sat up straighter, shaking her head in a feeble effort to clear the fog.

  “It’s a long time till morning, Erin. Try to rest.”

  She wriggled against the vinyl couch, trying to find a more comfortable position. Her voice heavy with exhaustion, she said, “The heck with Aunt Hermione. How many do you want? Kids, I mean.”

  “Eight, at least. That’s why I think it’s safe to ignore what Hermione wants.”

  Erin blinked up at him, doubting her ears.

  “I thought that would get your attention,” Slater said calmly. “Go to sleep, Erin. That’s an order.” He put an arm around her and drew her close to his side, cradling her against the hard support of his body.

  She was too worn out even to tense, much less pull away – but within seconds she realized there was nothing in the least sensual about his gesture. He might have been a big brother offering her a shoulder to lean on.

  And yet…

  The scent of his after-shave was a familiar one, but she had never before smelled it like this – so faint that it was nothing more than a hint of aroma which was somehow all mixed up with the warm comfort of his body and the strength of his arm around her, creating a soft sensation which wrapped her like a blanket.

  Under different circumstances, she thought, it might be quite enjoyable to sit like this, snuggled so tightly against him that she wasn’t quite sure where his warmth left off and hers began. If she was
to tilt her head back just a trifle, her lips would – accidentally, of course – brush the strong line of his jaw. And if he then turned his head and looked down at her, and leaned even closer for a kiss…

  It’s your boss you’re thinking about, Reynolds, she reminded herself. But Slater could hardly blame her for wondering – when it was he himself who’d introduced the question with that crazy proposal of his – what his kisses would be like.

  Competent, of course, just like everything else he did. Maybe even efficient, with no wasted time or effort.

  She smiled and turned her face into the curve of his neck while she thought about it, and soothed by the even rhythm of his heartbeat under her cheek, she slept.

  Sunlight roused her. Though it was still very early, the day promised to be a brilliant one, and for a moment she exulted in the beauty pouring through the windows. Then she realized how stiff and sore she felt, and that her head was still pillowed on Slater’s shoulder, and she remembered.

  She pulled away and sat up straight. “I shouldn’t have slept so long.”

  “If there had been anything you could do, I’d have awakened you.”

  She tipped her head to one side and inspected him. She’d never seen him needing a shave before. She was surprised, for he didn’t look unkempt or careless; somehow the shadow of beard just made his eyes look bigger and darker, his jaw stronger. His clothes were another matter; they looked quite simply as if they’d been slept in. Except, she realized, he obviously hadn’t slept at all. He had sat there and held her through the night.

  Her stomach felt full of butterflies at the idea – which was silly, she told herself. Yes, she’d had a few fancies last night, but she’d been half-asleep at the time. There was nothing romantic about the way he’d held her. Nothing at all.

  “You’re worn out,” she said. “I’ve had – thanks to you – enough sleep to pull myself together, and now that I don’t have to face the night demons along with everything else, I’ll be fine. Please don’t make me feel any guiltier than I already do, Slater.”

  He must have been even more exhausted than he looked, she thought, for he didn’t argue.

  “If you’re sure,” he said, “there are a couple of things at the office.”

  Erin closed her eyes in pain. “The office. I’d actually forgotten that list you gave me yesterday.”

  “Don’t think about it. You have more important things to do just now.”

  “That reminds me, though. A couple of advertising people were talking down in the restaurant... was it only yesterday? I’ve lost track of time. Anyway, they were discussing an upcoming ad campaign. Nothing secret, or even particularly sensitive – but are you certain you don’t want to put on a reminder course about confidentiality for all the employees? I could–”

  “No, you couldn’t. Not right now, anyway. We’ll talk about it later, though, because you’ve got a good point. Reminding everyone doesn’t single anyone out.” Slater stood up, stretching slowly to relax muscles obviously cramped by holding her so long. “You’ll let me know how things go here, Erin?”

  “Of course.” She walked a little way toward the entrance with him, telling herself that she needed a good stretch herself. But when he left her there and went on, she stood in the corridor feeling very small and insignificant and alone.

  *****

  When Erin left the hospital a few hours later, the sunshine was no longer beautiful; it was like the glare of a searchlight instead, hurting her eyes, probing every thought and feeling. The warmth of it against her skin should have been comforting, but in fact it mocked her with the contrast to the cold within her heart.

  The nurses had suggested she go home for a while, take a shower, lie down. There were still some tests to do, and the most important thing for Angela right now was calm and quiet, so Erin wouldn’t be able to spend much time with her mother anyway. And – what no one had said, but they had all obviously been thinking – she would need her strength even more tomorrow, when Angela went into surgery. Knowing they were right, Erin had complied.

  The cab was halfway to the townhouse when she changed her mind, leaned forward and told the cabby to take her to the office instead. The driver looked askance at her rumpled appearance, but he did as she asked, and she rewarded his lack of chattiness and curiosity with a larger-than-usual tip.

  For the moment, the lobby was almost deserted. The cafeteria had just stirred to life but it was early yet for lunch, while people who had business in the high-rise were mostly already in their appointed places. The street-level boutiques were open, but customers seemed to be few. At the flower cart, Tonio was rearranging carnations, separating them into several cups so they were no longer smashed together. The slightly-spicy, bruised fragrance of the flowers made Erin want to sneeze.

  She would have hurried by, but the elevator door opened just then and Dax, briefcase in hand, stepped out. Erin turned toward the cart and ducked her head, hoping he wouldn’t spot her. But he seemed drawn to her like a magnet; he came straight across the lobby.

  “What’s up, Erin?” His gaze drifted over her from head to foot. “You look even worse than the boss does this morning, you know. Last night must have been the party to end all parties.”

  “Hardly.” Her voice was tight with strain.

  Dax looked intrigued. “You mean it was personal instead?”

  She tried to go around him. “I don’t have time for this, Dax.”

  He stepped into her path. “Touchy today, aren’t we? Seriously, if you don’t want to be the butt of some pretty heavy joking upstairs, you might be better off to change clothes at least. Coming to work in the same suit you wore yesterday is so tacky.”

  Erin cut across the levity in his voice. “I spent the night in the hospital with my mother.” It was the first time she had said the words out loud, and she had to steady herself. “She has a tumor, and she’ll have surgery tomorrow.”

  He sobered. “Hey – that’s a tough break, kid.”

  Erin started to shiver. Had she perhaps been a little too harsh on Dax? Even rough-edged sympathy could be sincere.

  “Cancer’s a bummer,” Dax said. “I hope for your sake it doesn’t drag on too long. It’s downright depressing for everybody not to be able to make plans. Catch you later, if you’re around.”

  He strolled on toward the revolving doors, swinging his briefcase.

  If Erin had been run over by a steamroller she couldn’t have felt flatter. So much for sympathy, she thought. But then she shouldn’t have expected anything more from Dax.

  A few feet away, Tonio cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about your mother, Miss Reynolds. But don’t pay any attention to that jerk.”

  She kept her voice level. “The only really surprising thing is exactly how little class he has.” She took two steps toward the elevator.

  Tonio shifted a cup of daisies to a different corner of the cart. “You know, about that red rose he gave you the other day…”

  Erin paused, curious in spite of herself. She’d almost forgotten the rose, still in the crystal vase on the corner of her desk. “What about it, Tonio?”

  “He didn’t pay me for it.”

  Erin was too stunned to speak. “But I saw him pull out his wallet.”

  Tonio nodded emphatically. “He did. But as soon as you were out of sight, he put his money away and told me to add it to Mr. Livingstone’s bill, that he’d never notice it anyway. I didn’t do it, of course. But that’s why when you asked about the bill yesterday, I thought maybe you realized what he’d done.”

  “You were afraid I’d think you were cheating us?” Erin shook her head in disbelief. “Not you, Tonio. Dax is quite the guy, isn’t he? Spontaneous, generous, understanding, sympathetic.” The irony in her voice spilled over. “Or maybe just calculating.”

  Tonio was eyeing her in concern. “I’m sorry, Miss Reynolds. After what he said about your mother, I thought it might make you feel better to know once and for all what he’s like, but I gue
ss I shouldn’t have.”

  Erin smiled. “Thanks, Tonio. You’re a pal.” She took out her wallet. “How much was the rose?”

  Tonio held up both hands. “I didn’t tell you what he did so you’d pay for it,” he protested. “I just thought you should know he’s not such a prize as he thinks he is. I didn’t want you to see you hurt.”

  The really frightening thing about that, Erin thought, was that Tonio thought she might actually have been taken in by Dax’s shenanigans.

  Slater’s door was closed and Sarah was filing documents in the outer office when Erin came in. The secretary dropped a folder and rushed across the room. “Mr. Livingstone told me,” she said. “What have they found? How is she? How are you? Oh, Erin!”

  “Is Slater in?” Erin’s lips felt stiff.

  “Yes, though he’s got Bob Brannagan with him. But I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, if you need to talk to him.”

  “No, I won’t interrupt.” Erin thought she saw a tinge of curiosity in Sarah’s eyes, and abruptly realized what had caused it. The secretary wasn’t used to first names around the office, so Erin’s slip alone would account for her inquisitiveness. “The Brannagan deal’s far too important. But when he’s free, ask if he’ll come into my office, will you?” Suddenly she felt she could not stand to say – or hear – another word, as if each one was a nettle rubbed against her skin. Without waiting for an answer, she turned toward the quiet of her own little retreat and closed the door.

  The list and the open folder that she’d left on her desk yesterday were still in place. How long ago it seemed – and how much had changed since then. The room looked almost unfamiliar now, as if she hadn’t seen it in months.

  Her gaze fell on the rose Dax had stolen from Tonio, its color already fading, its petals slightly limp and darkened around the edges, as if it was drooping in shame. It isn’t the rose’s fault that Dax is a cretin, she told herself. But her hands seemed to move of their own volition, one gripping the base of the bloom while with the other she pulled a silky petal loose and dropped it into the wastebasket. Then another, and another.