The Corporate Wife

by Leigh Michaels

  At least, she realized, letting herself feeling anger was energizing. It was a whole lot better right now to be angry than to think about her mother, for dwelling on a situation she could do nothing about only made her ache all over.

  When the stem was bare, she plucked it from the vase and bent it between her hands. Instead of giving a satisfying snap, the stem twisted limply, and an overlooked thorn tore at her thumb. The stem fell into the wastebasket as Erin put the wounded thumb into her mouth.

  Only the vase remained. She reached out for it almost automatically, half-intending to smash it as well. But the small voice of conscience stopped her. The vase had nothing to do with Dax. It was Slater who had provided the vase, equally as exquisite – in its own way – as the rose. But there was a difference. Unlike the flower, given carelessly and doomed to quickly crumble into dust, the crystal vase had been provided with consideration and thoughtfulness, and it would last forever.

  Behind her, the office door opened. “Erin?”

  She had known it was Slater, even before he spoke her name. She’d felt his presence there, filling the doorway – and the room – with strength.

  Slowly, she turned to face him, and every drop of composure she’d managed to hang onto throughout the morning’s onslaught abruptly deserted her. Before she realized what she was doing, she was in his arms, her face pressed into his shoulder, sobbing like a child.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Slater held her till Erin’s shuddering sobs died into hiccups and then to silence. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, and tried to smile. “I’ve said that before, haven’t I? – and then I just keep on interfering and expecting more and more from you.”

  He didn’t answer. Instead he held her a little away from him, his hands on her shoulders, so he could see her face. “It’s bad, then.”

  “They found a tumor.” Despite her best efforts, Erin’s voice shook. “It’s called a... oh, I can’t remember. Some incredibly long and melodious name.”

  Slater muttered something she didn’t quite hear.

  She took a deep breath. “It could be worse, I suppose. The odds are good that the tumor isn’t malignant. But it’s located on her adrenal gland, and that means it’s thrown the hormone balance off in her whole body, and that has sent her blood pressure through the roof. You know that so-called adrenaline rush you get when you’re in danger?”

  “The fight or flight reaction?”

  “Yeah. It’s supposed to correct itself after a few minutes, once the immediate danger’s past. Only in Mother’s case, it can’t go back to normal because the tumor just keeps on producing the hormones that cause it in the first place.” She stepped away from him and reached into her desk drawer for a tissue. The box was empty. “So it’s like she’s locked in a pit full of rattlesnakes. She can’t fight, she can’t flee – and she certainly can’t relax.”

  Slater reached into his breast pocket and gave her a handkerchief. “If they take the tumor out, will that solve the problem?”

  “They’ve scheduled her for surgery tomorrow morning. Only it’s not that simple, Slater.” Erin wiped her eyes. “The doctor explained it all to me, complete with the technical terms. But in plain language, what he told me was that with the hormone levels so high, just putting her under anesthesia could send her blood pressure up so much it’d blow holes in every artery in her body.”

  Slater rubbed the back of his neck.

  “If she makes it through that, simply touching the tumor as they try to take it out could set off the same reaction. Or, just to add to the fun, once it’s out everything could go the other way – her blood pressure could drop, she could go into shock. People die of shock, Slater.”

  “I know.” There was an odd heaviness in his voice. “My mother did.”

  Erin put a hand out to him. “I’m so sorry. I’m acting as if I’m the only one who’s got problems.”

  He shook his head. “It’s a long time ago. I only meant that I know first-hand how serious it can be.”

  She refolded his handkerchief, concentrating on each crease as if it was the most important task she’d ever undertaken. “And since Mother’s supposed to stay as calm as possible, for fear she’ll have a stroke or a heart attack before they can get her stabilized, they haven’t even told her about the all the dangers. Only me.” Her voice was trembling. “They told me all this, and then they suggested that I go home and calm myself down so I won’t frighten her!”

  “Erin. It’s all right to be scared.”

  She wasn’t listening. “It’s no wonder she’s had headaches. The only surprise is that she didn’t have a massive stroke, or heart failure, or sudden blindness, before now.”

  “Erin, stop it. None of that happened. They’ll take care of this.”

  “Will they? I signed the papers, Slater, giving permission for the surgery. But if something happens to her…” She couldn’t look at him, so she walked across to the window and stared out at the mirrored wall of the neighboring office building.

  “What happens if they don’t operate?”

  She didn’t turn around. “The stroke, or the heart failure, or the blindness. Or a combination.”

  “Then you didn’t have a choice.” His voice was firm, and oddly reassuring – and also very close; he’d moved across the room to stand behind her. “You did the only thing you could, Erin.” Gently, he began to massage her shoulders. “If it isn’t too ridiculously mundane to ask, are you going to be all right for money? This isn’t going to be inexpensive.”

  “I know. And her health insurance isn’t all that good any more, now that she’s not working full time. But it doesn’t matter what it costs.” Erin’s voice was low, almost hoarse. “I’ll sell the townhouse if I have to. It’s worth more than I paid for it. There are a few shares of stock that my father bought for me. I’ll take a second job…” Her gaze fell on the lengthy list still lying on her desk blotter. “Well, maybe not that, because I don’t know where I’d find time. But we’ll manage somehow.”

  She put her hands to her temples and tried to rub away the tension. If she could only think –

  Slater said, “You know perfectly well you don’t have to worry about the money, Erin. No matter how much it is, I’ll take care of it.”

  The words dropped like stones into the puddle her brain seemed to have become. Erin froze, her fingertips still pressed against her temples, waiting futilely for the ripples to quiet. Surely, she thought, he couldn’t have meant...

  His voice was quiet, calm. “All you have to do—”

  She couldn’t bear to hear him say it, to patiently and reasonably put a price tag on her. “All I have to do is marry you,” she said bitterly.

  For a moment, utter stillness filled the office. Then Slater caught her arm in a fierce grip and whirled her around to face him. His jaw was set, his eyes ablaze. “Damn it, Erin, do you really believe I would offer you a bargain where the price is your mother’s life?”

  She stared at him in utter horror, her throat so dry she couldn’t speak. She had never before seen him like this. He’d been angry sometimes, yes – but nothing she’d seen in the course of business had been even a shadow of this fury. She took an involuntary step backward.

  He didn’t let go of her. “You said once I’m not the sort to give in to blackmail. Well, I don’t use it to get my own way, either.”

  She managed to swallow the sawdust that coated her throat. “Of course not,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  He stared down at her for what seemed eons before, very slowly, his hand relaxed. His voice was gruff and his strained smile didn’t reach his eyes, but the outrage was gone from his voice. “There you go again with the apologies.”

  Erin felt as if she’d caught herself on the very brink of a cliff as the edge crumbled away under her feet. Her heart settled slowly back into place. He was on the way to once more becoming the Slater she knew – calm, reasonable, approachable, controlled.

  “If you’re willing to loa
n me the money,” she said carefully, “I appreciate it more than you can ever know.”

  For a few seconds she thought he wasn’t going to respond at all, but finally, he said, “All you have to do is let me know how much you need. But I’d suggest you not tell your mother it’s a loan. She might not like that idea any better than selling your house.”

  Erin could see the sense in that. “Maybe I’ll tell her I’ve earned a big bonus – though goodness knows how, with all the work I’ve left undone.” She glanced at the clock on her desk. “I have to get back to her now.”

  “Will you be all right?”

  She knew what he was really asking. “I’m still scared, but I think I can keep her from seeing it now. Slater...” She hesitated. How could she even begin to thank him? He’d let her cry and rage and tremble in fear – and now, thanks to his patience and warmth and support, she could go back and face her mother with a reassuring smile.

  Without giving herself a chance to think twice about it, she put a hand on his arm and raised herself on tiptoe in order to kiss his cheek.

  She intended it to be a friendly kiss, a grateful kiss – no more. But something went awry; Slater turned his head at precisely the wrong moment, and her lips brushed his – and clung.

  Her hand still rested on his arm, but there was no other touch except for that achingly sweet, almost tender kiss. He didn’t even move to put his arms around her, and yet what should have been no more than a casual gesture – gratitude expressed, thanks accepted – was the most sensual caress Erin had ever experienced. Her body almost vibrated with the force of it.

  She’d been right – and wrong – in her speculations about his kissing techniques. Slater was every bit as efficient as she’d expected; she’d never known any man who could pack such a punch with so little apparent effort. But he was a whole lot more than merely competent.

  She was quivering when she pulled away from him, and she didn’t look back as she left him standing there beside her desk – for she knew she’d find herself apologizing yet again, this time for miscalculating so badly.

  And she had to admit she didn’t want to.

  *****

  Erin tiptoed into the cubicle where her mother lay, half-sedated. Beside Angela’s bed, an automatic blood-pressure monitor clicked and whirred into life, and Angela sighed and opened her eyes. “Darling,” she said softly. “They told me you’d gone home. But you don’t look rested at all.”

  Treat it casually, Erin told herself. Pretend this hospital stay is all routine, that there’s nothing to worry about. What better way to imply that things were perfectly normal than to say she’d gone back to work? Besides, in this case it had the advantage of being the truth – or at least part of it.

  She managed a smile. “Maybe that’s because I ended up at the office instead.”

  Angela’s brow furrowed. “I thought Mr. Livingstone was a little more compassionate than that.”

  “He is,” Erin said. “He didn’t demand that I come in, I volunteered.” She leaned against the high bed rail and reached for Angela’s hand. “Is there anything I can bring you? Anything you’d like?”

  “A really good cup of coffee.”

  “They wouldn’t let you drink it. No caffeine.”

  “I know. Spoilsports – just because I’m having surgery in the morning.”

  Angela sounded tired and sluggish, but that must be the effects of the sedative, Erin thought, for she could feel the too-quick flutter of Angela’s pulse.

  “Erin, this is really risky, isn’t it? The surgery?”

  Erin tried to keep her voice steady. “What makes you ask that, Mom?”

  “Because the nurses and doctors are all so cheerful about it. Anymore, when you so much as have a cavity filled they have to tell you all the risk factors, but I haven’t even heard the standard lecture about the dangers of anesthesia.”

  “Maybe they’ve figured out you already knew it, so they weren’t going to bother you again. Anyway, you know your blood pressure’s high, so they want you to stay calm.”

  “Well, I’d be calmer if I knew exactly what was going on.”

  Angela’s gaze drifted past Erin, and pain wrenched her face. It wasn’t physical discomfort, Erin thought, but emotional torment, and her heart twisted in compassion.

  Angela’s voice was a mere thread. “Oh, Erin, there are so many more things I wanted to do.”

  The nurses had warned her that Angela might experience a roller-coaster’s worth of emotional outbursts, not only because of the hormone imbalance but also from the drugs she was getting to combat its effects. The best way to counter the moodiness, they’d said, was to be practical and matter-of-fact.

  Erin took a deep breath. “Mom, don’t be ridiculous. You’re going to do them all. The doctors will fix this, and you’ll be home in a few days, ordering everyone around and making your list of things to do as soon as you feel up to it.”

  “With the first item on it being getting a second job to help pay for this siege,” Angela said dryly.

  “You’re not to worry about money, Mother.”

  “Easy to say. You obviously haven’t considered what this is going to cost. I, on the other hand–”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Erin said firmly. “It’s taken care of.”

  Angela’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, really?”

  Erin’s heart sank. The self-pity had abruptly vanished; Angela’s shrewd appraisal was the same one Erin had learned to dread as a child, for it meant she was not going to be able to pull off anything the slightest bit shady. Once Angela had her teeth into a question...

  “And what makes you so certain?” Angela murmured. “I didn’t realize you were in the habit of playing the lottery. How convenient that it would pay off this very week. Or did you end up in the office today instead of going home to rest because you’re planning to borrow the money from your boss? Just what kind of interest rate is he giving you? Or is there something else going on that I should know about?”

  The bonus, Erin reminded herself. Tell her about the bonus.

  Before she could decide how to launch her story, however, so that her mother would be most likely to accept it, Angela seemed to relent. “I’ll say one thing for the man, he doesn’t waste any time. Did you see what he sent me?”

  “Who? Slater?” Too late, Erin spotted the interest which flared in her mother’s eyes as the name registered. But Angela didn’t comment, merely waved a hand at a small stand in the corner, where ivy cascaded from a big earthenware pot.

  Erin hadn’t noticed it before. She thought it had probably escaped her attention because neither the ivy leaves nor the container were showy enough to stand out amidst the tangle of machinery. The arrangement was plain, simple, homey, looking as if it had grown right there.

  A plant, she thought. Not fragile cut flowers which would fade in a few days and be discarded, but a sturdy ivy plant with its roots deep in earth, its tendrils clinging to everything it touched. Something which would fight for life. Something which would last.

  A symbol of recovery. How beautifully he had said it, without uttering a word.

  Tears stung Erin’s eyelids. She rubbed a fingertip across the rough surface of the earthenware pot. She didn’t know why the squat, rounded, obviously heavy brown pot should make her think of the graceful, fragile crystal bud vase which was still standing on her office desk because she’d forgotten to give it back to Slater this afternoon. The two things were so different.

  And yet, Erin thought, they were alike as well. Both solid, both lasting... and they were both overshadowed by their contents. Trailing ivy dripped over the edges of the pot, almost hiding its wonderful texture. Dax’s showy rose had drawn the eye so that the vase had faded into the background, almost unnoticed.

  But with the rose gone, the vase shone in its full glory – a thing of beauty which would last forever.

  This is not really about flowerpots and vases, she realized. It’s about solidity and security. It’s about th
e contrast between good things and things that merely look good.

  But she would need time to consider all the implications and figure out why her insides felt so strange all of a sudden – time she didn’t have just now, for Angela’s mood seemed to have shifted again.

  “In case I don’t make it, Erin...” Angela’s voice was little more than a whisper.

  “That’s enough nonsense, Mother.”

  Angela shifted restlessly, pushing herself up higher against the pillows which propped her almost upright. “It’s not nonsense. After the divorce, I set things up so you wouldn’t have to do it all, but I’ve never told you where all my papers are or what final arrangements I’ve made.”

  Erin felt panic rising. The last thing her mother should be doing was to dwell on the worst possible outcome. But how on earth was she to stop her? Distraction, that was the key.

  She raised her voice. “Well, I think it’s awfully selfish of you to waste time telling me about a funeral you’re not going to need anytime soon,” she said firmly, “when I have some really exciting news to share with you.”

  She didn’t know where the words had come from; to her own ears, her voice sounded almost alien. And how on earth was she going to follow up that announcement?

  The door burst open and a nurse appeared. She shot a look from Angela to the machines monitoring her, and then visibly relaxed. “All this moving around disconnected a wire, Mrs. Reynolds,” she pointed out, “and judging by the monitors out at the station it looked as if you’d suddenly checked out entirely. What have you been doing in here, anyway? Calisthenics?” She rigged the sensor back in place. “Your anesthesiologist’s on the floor doing rounds now,” she said. “He’ll be in to talk to you in a few minutes.”

  After the nurse left, Angela lay very still, staring thoughtfully at Erin. “Well? What’s the news?”

  She needs something positive to think about, Erin told herself. Something to look forward to. Something to hang onto as she goes into surgery. Something to make her want to come back.