Four Sides of a Triangle: An Austen & Cufflinks Novel (The Austen & Cufflinks Series Book 1)

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Four Sides of a Triangle: An Austen & Cufflinks Novel (The Austen & Cufflinks Series Book 1) Page 16

by Heather C. Myers

“Bernard does not like to be called Bernie,” I tell him. “And of course I have. Jewel faxed him all the necessary notes and I’ve already confirmed the meeting.”

  He sucked the last bit of my lemonade out of my straw, and continued to suck it so it made that annoying slurping noise. As far as I’m concerned, Kim is all but forgotten.

  Chapter 17

  It’s nearly the end of January, and thank goodness for that too, because January has been such a trying month. I mean, Jewel and I were up to our eyeballs in work – seriously, if I didn’t have her helping me, I’d probably suffer two hernias or something – but everything, as it usually does, worked out for the best.

  But the best isn’t good enough for Robert. He’s kind of a perfectionist, especially when it comes to anything relating to his company. Even though he has ten of the eleven international investors promising a substantial amount of money…after Robert’s promised to double their return, of course, he’s still waiting for Mr. Dean Ledger to come aboard, so to speak. Dean Ledger is what Robert is here in the States, only in his home country of Australia. Unlike Robert, Mr. Ledger’s company is relatively new and it’s the sole creation of Ledger himself. But Mr. Ledger isn’t naïve when it comes to business, which is probably why he’s the only hold out. And Robert, being the perfectionist that he is, wants Mr. Ledger’s investment before he even begins to think about what happens next. And if that means going all the way to Australia in order to meet Dean Ledger in person and persuade him face-to-face why investing in Swift Enterprises is both intelligent and economical, then so be it. That’s Robert in a nutshell.

  Except now I’m running around like a chicken with its head chopped off because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s not having a plan. And no matter how many times I’ve tried to ask Robert to make a variety of backup plans if this whole Dean Ledger thing doesn’t work, he refuses to do it. I even throw out the hypothetical, ‘What happens when it does work? What are you going to do then?’ But he won’t think about anything until he gets a response from Mr. Ledger one way or the other.

  Which leaves me to make the plans. Even though I know Robert will end up doing something totally different.

  So why do I do it? Probably to ensure that my sanity is still stable.

  Currently, I sit at my desk, going through my emails. It’s just after lunch so I’m satisfied and no longer an überbitch due to lack of sustenance, and my mind has regained its functioning capabilities .

  I love sifting through emails. It tells my brain to start to focus on work without jumping into anything too drastic. In a way, it helps me focus and relaxes me at the same time. Of course, I get the usual junk mail from porn sites and Viagra advertisements, but I also get things I actually enjoy, like a Stephen Colbert fan newsletter, the Word of the Day, and any Facebook notifications I haven’t noticed before. Occasionally I’ll get an actual email from an actual person about an actual event. Those are usually from Jewel or Robert. But this time, I get one from a person I don’t expect.

  What is James Morris doing emailing me?

  Okay, so the thought is kind of random because when he did leave – when was that again? It had to be weeks ago. I don’t even remember it all that much – we parted as friends. Actually, now that I think about it, I remember that he was about to tell me something really important. Like that he’s in love with me. Either that or he was going to ask me out.

  Maybe because he missed his chance, he’s writing me to do it. Ew. Who tells someone they care for them over email? And I understand how technology has intermixed with courtship and everything, but I would have preferred a casual text rather than a formal email asking me to dinner or wherever it is he wants to take me on our first date.

  I stare at the bolded name, the [No Subject] in the subject line. The fact that this was sent two hours and twelve minutes ago. Why am I hesitating? It’s just James.

  But, okay, here’s the thing: I haven’t spared James a second thought ever since he left. I didn’t even try and figure out what he was going to say to me before his father interrupted, and if anyone is the queen of overanalyzing, it’s me. And the more I turn over the thought that whatever he was going to say could very well be in this email, the more I realize that I don’t want to have to reject him.

  Because I would. Reject him, I mean. It’s not that he’s not handsome or that he’s dull – though he does seem kind of flighty if you ask me – but I realize that I’m just not in love with him. I’m not even in like with him. I can’t explain why that is, but it just is. And I don’t want to waste my time going out on some pity date whenever he comes back to LA because I feel sorry for him. It would just lead him on, and I don’t want to do that.

  Then I remind myself that I should at least read whatever it is that he’s written to me. Even if I’ll feel guilty for not reciprocating his feelings, he cared enough to put them down on the Internet and send them to me. The least I can do is to see just what it is he has to say. Then I can think of something sweet to say in reply and we can go back to being friends. Of course, if he doesn’t want that either, I totally understand. It might be difficult for him to remain friends with me if he’s in love with me, and I don’t want him to hurt unnecessarily.

  Well, whatever he wants to do, I’ll support it. Besides date me, of course.

  I click on the email and take a deep breath in order to prepare myself for whatever it is he wants to say.

  Dear Madeline,

  I have some bad news. My grandmother died a few days after her surgery. Her funeral was yesterday. My mother is… well I suppose any synonym for depressed still won’t do what my mother’s feeling justice, so I’ll put it simply: my mother is sad.

  As, of course, am I. But it’s obvious we handle things differently. As of right now, she’s planning this excursion Grandma always wanted to go on but couldn’t due to how weak she was. My mother tells me it’s to honor Grandma’s memory. I wish her all the best, but I like to dive in to work in order to handle my feelings. I can’t go on a trip Grandma’s been planning for the last five years that she never got to see to fruition. As a result, I’ve decided to come back to LA to write within a week or so, to get away from New York, away from my mother, and hopefully, away from my grief. Maybe the California sunshine will work its magic on me.

  We’ll see.

  I just thought it would be best that you know this because I do look forward to spending time with you. You’re always so bubbly and positive and happy, and I think I need that right now. And who knows? Maybe we’ll finally solve Kim’s mystery admirer this time around, considering that we’ve ruled out Robert as a candidate.

  I hope everything is going well for you, Madeline.

  See you soon,

  James Morris

  I blink. And then I blink again.

  Well, it certainly isn’t what I expected. Like at all. And I can’t help but feel very slightly guilty at the fact that maybe I was a tad too self-absorbed after seeing that he emailed me.

  How could I have forgotten that the reason James left in the first place was because his grandmother was having some sort of heart surgery? And here I am, too consumed by my own thoughts and work that I can’t even be bothered to shoot him a quick email just asking how his grandmother was doing – how he was doing.

  Jeez.

  Well, the time to remedy that is obviously right now. I type up a response, apologizing at least three times about my lack of query, asking at least twice how he’s doing, and telling him that of course we would be able to hang and go out. I also mention Jewel, telling him that a close friend of mine is also experiencing misery, though in the form of heartbreak rather than loss, and she’d be joining us because everyone deserves to laugh when they’re feeling down.

  And just after I send the email, I’m suddenly afflicted by an interesting thought. Jewel and James and I would all be hanging out together.

  Jewel and James and I.

  Wouldn’t it be great if Jewel and James, oh, I don�
��t know, got together? They could be each other’s shoulder to cry on. And James is way better than that tool, Ethan. I know he’s not a snob at all. The only thing stopping James from going out with Jewel is if he had a girlfriend. And since I’m fairly certain he’s fallen for me, I don’t think that’s the case.

  Speaking of which, I highly doubt weaning him off me is going to be that big of an obstacle. Once he spends time with Jewel, he’ll see just how incredible she is and forget all about me. In fact, I’m sure of it.

  I feel myself warm at this new prospect. I love making people happy, especially when they deserve it. And both James and Jewel totally deserve it.

  “Do you think pink threatens my masculinity?”

  I look up at Robert, an eyebrow already raised, but my fingers skillfully continue to arrange the silk tie currently hanging from Robert’s neck.

  “What?” I ask, and I don’t even bother to keep the flatness out of my voice. Even so, I can feel the sparkle in my eyes and my lips are curled up. James is supposed to be here in a few days and I can’t wait to get started on my new project.

  “Pink,” Robert says again, his brown eyes flicking up at the mirror as he reflects on what he’s wearing and how it appears on his five foot eight-and-a-half-inch frame. “I get that it goes with the theme of Valentine’s Day, and I’m sure that many, many women will be wearing the color so I won’t have to worry about matching, but still. I always thought pink was some frat boy’s rite of passage or something. Like yeah, he’s comfortable with his sexuality, but he’s uncomfortable with being individual since don’t all college guys wear pink nowadays?”

  I shrug my shoulders, choosing to focus on his tie rather than answering that question. In all honesty, I have absolutely no idea what college guys wear anymore.

  “Would you date a guy who wears pink?” he prods, tilting his chin down and pushing up his brow.

  When I finish with the tie, I smooth the wrinkles on his lapel before letting my arms drop to my sides. I look Robert in the eye. “I suppose it depends on the reason they’re wearing pink,” I say after a moment. “If it’s to prove something or to conform, then probably not. But if it’s because he wants to, then yeah. And trust me, a girl can always tell whether a guy is wearing pink for the right reasons. And don’t worry, Robert,” I add. “You’re wearing pink – if you choose to wear this suit – for the right reasons. Plus, the navy blue really contrasts with it.”

  Robert has a twinkle in his brown eyes as he glances around his bedroom until he reaches the mirror once again. I know that what I’ve said has made him at least a bit more comfortable in the suit he’s wearing, but my words are true. I have no idea why Robert’s so worried about wearing pink; he’s definitely not worried about his sexuality, he has no qualms about homosexuality, and he should know that he looks good in anything, even in a pale pink long sleeved shirt underneath a navy blue vest, blazer, and all the necessary accessories a suit comes with.

  “Nothing is ever black and white with you, is it?” he asks me when he appears satisfied with his reflection. He turns so he’s facing me once again. “You could probably find a reason to befriend a convicted bank robber or something.”

  “It depends on why he robbed the bank in the first place,” I tell him, and then for whatever reason, I start to giggle.

  I’m not sure why I’m in such a good mood. There’s still so much to do at work, especially with Robert’s planned trip to Australia, plus arranging for all the investors to meet at one time – which is ridiculously tricky considering they’re all in different countries and time zones. I’m a tad stressed because, on top of that, Jewel and I are supposed to be planning this charity Valentine’s Ball which raises money for cancer. And even the fact that James is coming out soon is adding to my worry because I’m trying to think of how I can set him up with Jewel without coming off as too obvious. Jewel is still not over Ethan, despite the fact that she knows he’s clearly moved on, and I really don’t like to see that sadness in her eyes, so I’m hoping this James thing works out for the best because they really would be so good for each other.

  And yet, I stand in front of Robert, just finishing the fourth tie for the evening because Robert does like to plan his outfits to important events somewhat in advance, and I feel relaxed. Happy. Probably because I know that what I’m doing for Jewel and James is the right thing. And even though I’m worried about it, I’m excited for it too. Because when people are happy, all the work and stress and worry doesn’t seem so impossible to handle anymore.

  “Well, aren’t you a happy little fairy,” Robert teases, shooting me a smile. “And tell me why that is, Maddy. Unless of course it’s the obvious getting-to-undress-your-boss thing, because if so, trust me, I’m happy too.”

  “What?” I feel my face flush, but I’m still smiling. “No. Goodness Robert, is that all you think about? Me undressing you?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that?” He tilts his head to the side so a stray lock of dark hair falls into his face. Without thinking twice, I reach up and brush it to the side.

  “If I’m being totally honest with you, the reason I’m so happy is because James is coming back to LA and I’m going to set him up with Jewel!” My smile widens. Just hearing myself say it out loud is like giving it wings, making it real. “I think they would definitely be great together.”

  “So that tool is actually coming back to LA?” Robert asks. He shakes his head as he slides his arms out of his blazer. I know his question is rhetorical so I don’t bother giving him a response. “And that’s what you said about Ethan and Jewel, and look how that turned out.” Of course, Robert has a knack for ruining the mood, and I think he can tell by the look on my face because he quickly adds, “And I thought you were going to stay out of people’s personal lives.” He flicks me on the nose and raises his brows once again, as though he’s trying to emphasize his point. “If it’s meant to be between Jewel and James, then it will be, whether you help set things up or not.”

  “And when did you start believing in destiny?” I ask Robert. Because really, I’ve always heard him go on and on about how we make our own destiny, and fate is just a figment of our imagination that gives pointless justification for things not going our way or shifts responsibility to some higher being rather than on ourselves.

  “Recently,” he says. “Because there are some things that, maybe at first, seemed like pure chance, a coincidence if you will, but the more I look at my circumstances, the more I realize… It’s like I was given this really, really vague outline of my life and how it’s supposed to go, right? And I am in control of making the choices, but at the same time, what stems from that choice is still part of that vague outline. Does that make sense?”

  I furrow my brow. “Kind of?” Shaking my head, I give Robert a pointed stare. “So now you sort of believe in there being this great plan the universe has for you.” Suddenly, my smile reappears on my face and I nudge Robert with my shoulder. “Does this mean that you believe that you – even Robert Swift – have the possibility of falling in love? True love, like the movies and the songs Celine Dion always sings about?”

  “Well, maybe not Celine Dion,” Robert says. “I’m more partial to Elvis’s love songs, but that’s just me. And to answer your question, I don’t know. To be honest, Maddy, I had my whole life planned out and you know what I’ve learned? Life never goes the way you want it to. So when you plan for it, it doesn’t happen. For me to say I’ll never fall in love… How can I possibly know that? Maybe I was more reserved about it, and it’s not like I’m going to actively pursue it or anything, but maybe if I find the right girl… Who knows? Maybe I’ll be more open to the concept.”

  “Really?” I ask in a sing-song, delighted voice.

  His eyes narrow as they take in the look on my face. “Oh God, Maddy, get that idea out of your head this instant. Just because I’m open to it doesn’t mean I want it. And there’s no way in hell I would ever consider letting you set me up with anyon
e. As of right now, I’m quite content with my one-night stands thank you very much.”

  “If you say so,” I say in a knowing voice. “But the offer still stands.”

  He gives me a sharp look, ending the discussion, and then his lips quirk up. “You know what you could help me with though?” he asks. “The buttons on this shirt.”

  Chapter 18

  Why the heck is Ethan coming to the Valentine Ball?” I ask Robert from my room. I still have to put a couple of last minute touches on my appearance before Robert and I head to Disney’s Concert Hall, where the Valentine’s Ball is going to take place.

  “Are you sure you don’t need any help in there?” he asks me from my living room.

  “Don’t avoid the subject.” I take one last look in the mirror, giving myself the down-up look men normally give good-looking women they walk by, without even realizing they’re doing it. But we women recognize it every time. When I’m satisfied, I spin on my heel and head into the hall and then to my living room where Robert is resting on the couch where I left him twenty minutes ago. “Tell me why Ethan and his country singer arm candy are coming to the Ball.”

  Robert doesn’t answer just yet. His eyes have dropped to my body, and he indulges in the down-up look, except he seems to have no qualms about being blatant about it. In fact, he stares at me for so long that I can feel my face flush at the intensity of it. Really, it’s just a dress.

  “Maddy, you look…” His voice trails off as his eyes crawl back up to mine. Interestingly enough, there’s no devious sparkle in the brown orbs, no sexual innuendo on the tip of his tongue. Instead of finishing his thought, he clears his throat and avoids my gaze. “You know what I love about you, Maddy? When you say it’ll take you twenty minutes to finish getting ready, you really mean it. Twenty minutes. And not only that, but you do in twenty minutes what millions of girls can’t even accomplish in two hours.”

 

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