The Relationship Coach

by Sylvia McDaniel

  They’d been only twenty years old, but still he’d loved her.

  Reed stood up to leave. Emotions he’d buried long ago were bubbling toward the surface, like a dormant volcano suddenly active. The need to get far away from Lacey overwhelmed him. He almost wanted to run. “I’ve got to go. Thanks again for the ride the other day.”

  “You’re welcome.” She watched him, her blue eyes narrowing on him, as if she were looking at a slide under a microscope. “I have a question though. What girl broke your heart and made you so gun shy on marriage?”

  He grimaced. “That’s not open for discussion.”

  ***

  Amanda tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep after her interview with Reed. This documentary meant so much to Lacey’s dream of television that it had to be good. Great would be even better, but something about the direction of Reed’s questions left Amanda uneasy.

  His questions had been direct, his tone almost like he’d been searching for anything incriminating to tell the world about Lacey and Mate Inc.-some insider piece of information that would cast dishonesty and mistrust.

  Maybe all journalists worked this way. Certainly some reporters behaved like they had no conscience or soul. Yet, he’d specifically told Lacey his film would reflect her business, and the audience could make their own decisions about her. Why had it felt forced?

  Amanda went to the interview room and peeked in. Ty was wrapping electrical cords on spools and packing away their lighting equipment.

  “Hi,” she said, as she walked into the room. “Are you done?”

  “For a couple of days. We’re heading out on the road with Lacey on Monday. I didn’t want to leave our equipment here.”

  “The next shoot will be in Tyler.” Her bags were packed as well, but still, she hadn’t known they would be filming.

  “Yeah, we’re almost packed and ready to go.”

  “Great,” she said, feeling awkward, but needing to ask a few questions. “How have the interviews been?”

  “All right,” he said, ducking his head.

  After that quick, no information response, maybe she should play dumb. “What will the documentary focus on? I mean all Lacey’s told me is that you guys would film the way a relationship coach works.”

  He nodded. His blond bangs fell onto his forehead, lending him a boyish look. “Pretty much.”

  “Are you getting a good idea of what she does?”

  Ty grinned. “Yeah. That couple today, sitting in on how she worked with them, was bitchin’. That poor guy will either be hitched or out on the streets alone.”

  Amanda recoiled inside, unease flowing like a river through her veins. Lacey would be horrified at his attitude. Is this what the film would show? A couple in the midst of conflict?

  “Those clients are dealing with a very sensitive subject that matters a lot to them. They deserve respect.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it’ll be on the film.” He laughed.

  “Tell me, has your camera caught how wonderful Lacey is in working with people to achieve their goals? Personally, I think she’s the best in the business.”

  Ty snapped a camera case closed. “She’s okay for a head case. That is, if you’re into all this psychobabble nonsense.”

  “Psychobabble nonsense! Whoa, maybe you need to show me what you’ve filmed so far,” Amanda said, fear gripping her chest. “What we do here is very important.”

  Ty smiled and shrugged. “Hey, I’m just the cameraman. My opinion doesn’t matter. Reed’s the journalist. He’s in charge.”

  Amanda took a deep breath and gazed at him, trying to discern whether Ty was lying to her.

  “But you see what is being filmed.”

  “And Reed is the editor. I don’t know how he will edit this film.” He went back to packing his lighting equipment. Then he stood and glanced at her. “All set. I’m going to start loading this stuff in the van.”

  She walked to the door. “Okay. See you in Tyler.”

  “Yeah, see you around,” he said, carrying his equipment out the door.

  As soon as he left the building, she all but ran straight to Lacey’s office and knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” Lacey called.

  Amanda hurried in and saw Lacey was working at the computer.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m just making some last minute revisions to my seminar notes.”

  Amanda sank down in a chair across from her desk. “Lacey, are you certain Reed Hunter is filming you in a positive way? I mean, are you sure this film is not going to show us in a negative light?”

  Lacey turned from the computer and stared at Amanda. “He told me this documentary would show how a relationship coach worked, and it would be up to the audience to decide if our company was reputable. How many times have I started with a client who was skeptical about what we do, who in the end believed in us?”

  “Most men,” Amanda acknowledged. It was true very few men in relationships that needed help came willingly to their office. Even the single men were skeptical when they arrived and only wanted a date, not a lifetime.

  “Exactly. I’m not worried. We just continue to do the very best we can for our clients, and the camera will show how we help people.”

  “God, I hope you’re right, Lacey.”

  Lacey picked up her pencil and tapped it on the desk in a nervous manner. “What choice do I have? If we want the television show, we have to do the documentary. Let’s do our best and show the world that Mate, Inc. is a great place to find someone for life.”

  “I don’t know. My interview with Reed seemed like he was digging for dirt on you and the company. I didn’t walk away thinking he wanted to show Mate, Inc. and you as the solution to dating problems. And then just now, I was speaking with his cameraman, and either the guy is a complete jerk or they’re not making the film we thought they were.”

  Maybe she was overreacting, but talking to Ty and her interview with Reed hadn’t made her feel like they believed in what Lacey was doing.

  Lacey grinned and leaned forward toward Amanda. “This is the reason I made you my marketing manager. You’re protective of the business and me. You have my back, Amanda, and that means a lot to me.”

  Amanda smiled. “Thanks, but I’m concerned.”

  “What did the cameraman say?”

  Amanda repeated the conversation she’d just had. When she finished, Lacey shook her head.

  “You worry too much. He’s an artsy-fartsy cameraman who looks like he stepped off the pages of Rolling Stone magazine. Reed has control of the project and does all the editing. What you’re hearing is a cameraman’s perspective.”

  “What about the way Reed asked the questions?” Amanda wanted to know, still uneasy about the documentary.

  “He’s a journalist. They’re supposed to try to trip you up and get you to say something you shouldn’t. So far, everything is going fine.”

  Amanda frowned, but didn’t say anything. Her gut instincts were screaming, run for the fire exit, but her boss clearly found her suspicions far-fetched.

  “Look, it’s past six. I know you’ve been here since before eight, trying to get everything ready for this trip. Go home. Get some rest, and I’ll see you Monday morning.”

  With a sigh, Amanda stood. Okay, she was tired, and maybe fatigue was clouding her thinking right now. She needed a weekend. She needed Jason, and she needed to have sex. All in that order. “Okay, I’m going. Don’t work too late.”

  Amanda walked out of Lacey’s office. Maybe she was a little paranoid, but she would still keep her eyes and ears open. Lacey was her friend, her boss, and she would protect her, at all costs. What Lacey did mattered, and Amanda had her back.

  Chapter Nine

  Saturday afternoon, Lacey stood in the office of the apartment complex, pacing the floor, waiting for Dean to arrive. She glanced at her watch. Usually a stickler for punctuality, Dean was thirty minutes late.

  They had agreed to meet at three, look at the avail
able apartment, and then go furniture shopping. She’d relented on the idea of furniture, just to keep from having to look at his awful blue recliner, and even agreed to purchase a new living room set, while he paid down some of his bills.

  “Do you think he’s coming?” the rental agent asked.

  “He said he would be here. Let’s give him a few more minutes; then you can show me the apartment. I’m sure you have other clients coming.”

  “All right,” the woman said and disappeared back into her office.

  Discovering Dean’s low credit rating and extensive credit card bills had shocked her. Later, they’d talked, and he’d promised her he would get the balance down on his credit cards. She’d agreed to pay a larger portion of the rent for six months, to help him pay off what he owed.

  A Mercedes XL360 turned into the parking lot, and she wondered if this pricey apartment complex was out of their league. The car came closer, and a chill invaded her body, freezing her mind and her vision.

  Dean pulled into an available parking spot near her Prius, a grin the size of New York on his face. The car had new tags and the factory invoice almost blinded her with sticker shock.

  In a trance, she walked outside to meet him.

  He put the car in park and hopped out, smiling. “Hey, sweetheart. Sorry, I’m late.” Like Vanna White, he stretched his arm out to showcase the car. “What do you think?”

  Lacey stood there, while shock waves like small earthquakes rattled her brain. “You’re test driving it?”

  His forehead creased in a frown. “No, I bought it. They had a great deal on last year’s model, so I bought one. I thought with the two of us living together, my bills will be cut in half, and I could now afford the car of my dreams.”

  The property manager came out the door. “Hi, I’m Sandra, and you must be Dean?”

  “Yes,” he said, coming around the car and shaking her hand. “We’re here to look at the apartment you have available.”

  She led them through the complex, past an exercise room, pool with a hot tub, and a steam room. She pointed out all the advantages to living at this complex-the gated entrance, the amenities, the status of living at one of their properties. Lacey heard her words, but they didn’t seem to penetrate her brain freeze.

  She moved like a zombie in a horror film, slow and methodical, her mind echoing with the words, he’d bought his dream car.

  A Mercedes. An eighty thousand dollar car. Instead of trying to pay off his credit cards and clean up his credit, he’d bought a luxury car. With his credit rating, she was certain he’d gotten a lousy interest rate. The thought of sixteen percent interest on eighty thousand dollars was enough to chain someone to a car payment for years.

  “Honey,” Dean said, trying to get her attention. “They have a three bedroom available. Would you like to see it or the two bedroom? With three bedrooms, we could have a guest room along with our office.”

  And who was going to pay the extra rent on a larger apartment, she thought, her stomach knotting like macramé. “No, I think we should just look at the two bedroom.”

  He frowned, shrugged his shoulders, and told the manager, “Okay, let’s see the two bedrooms.”

  She put the key in the lock and opened the door. Lacey walked into the apartment, as the property manager stepped to the side.

  “Our apartments have the top of the line stoves, washers and dryers, as well as marble countertops in the kitchen and the bathrooms. The bathtubs are Jacuzzis, and the showers are large enough they have seats in them with jets in the wall to massage you.”

  Dean walked around the room and then wandered into the kitchen. “Oh, honey, come see this. They have those new stoves that have the fancy extended vent-a-hood.”

  Lacey strolled into the kitchen and said, “Hmm.”

  Excitement just wasn’t forthcoming. No matter how hard she tried, all she could think about was that damn car. She couldn’t summon even a tiny bit of enthusiasm for the apartment. She walked into the bedroom and glanced at the bathroom, with Dean nipping at her heels like a dog that knew he’d done something wrong.

  “This room is so big we might have to buy a larger bedroom suite.”

  “Yeah,” she said, a heavy sense of dread filling her. Warning bells gonged inside her mind like a five-alarm fire bell, causing her head to ache. All she could do was picture that black Mercedes sitting in the parking lot. His insurance would increase. Oil changes and regular maintenance would be overpriced. And gas? How many miles to the gallon did the beast get? A once a week fill of seventy-eighty dollars. Had he even considered the extra costs of this car?

  She wandered into the second bedroom. The apartment manager came in and opened the blinds. “This bedroom has its own doorway into the common bath. The last couple who lived here used it as an office. Every room, except for the bathrooms, has a data connection. Our complex has Verizon Fios and Cable in each apartment.”

  Lacey smiled and tried to muster some enthusiasm. “How much a month is this apartment?”

  “This one costs twenty-five hundred a month, and the three bedroom is three thousand a month.”

  And she’d agreed to pay three fourths of the rent the first six months to help him clean up his finances.

  How many clients had she warned away from the situation she now found herself in?

  Lacey walked back to the front of the apartment and gazed out the big windows at the view of the maple trees in the courtyard and the Olympic sized pool. From inside, all you heard were the sound of birds chirping and an occasional footstep on the outside stairs. The complex seemed perfect, except for the big ugly black car sitting in the parking lot, gleaming like a beacon of gloom in the hot Texas sun.

  She turned from the window to watch Dean examining the kitchen again. He wandered into the separate dining room. “We could have the family Christmas here.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” she responded, sounding as excited as if she were greeting a bowl of fiber in the morning.

  He glanced at her, suddenly taking notice of her mood. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  Dean walked to the door and glanced at her. “What do you think?”

  “It’s a beautiful apartment.”

  He smiled, and his eyes gleamed an eagerness not seen since the first time they’d had sex. “Are you ready to sign a lease?”

  She shook her head and turned to the apartment manager. “I’d like to think about it. We’ll call you.”

  “Are you sure? They might not have the space much longer,” Dean urged her.

  “I’m sure.” Her voice came out almost growling.

  Dean frowned, but walked to the door and opened it for her. She stepped outside into the warm sunshine, yet her blood didn’t thaw, and she shivered.

  “I’ll be here till five.” The property manager waved goodbye.

  “Okay,” Dean responded.

  Lacey walked to her Prius, and Dean followed her. “I think we just found the one. I really like it.”

  “It was nice,” she said.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  She wasn’t ready to discuss her feelings, but the idea of looking at furniture no longer held any appeal.

  “Tell me about the car. I thought you were going to wait.”

  He grinned, oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm. “I’ve had a broker keeping an eye out for a deal. He called me late yesterday and set it up for me to drive the car today. It’s a great deal, honey. Top of the line, loaded with everything, and they knocked off two thousand dollars.”

  “Wow, two thousand dollars,” she said, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice. The broker would make that up with the interest on the loan.

  Dean didn’t notice. “My payments are eight hundred dollars a month for eight years, but what a car. Next time you meet with that producer, you need to drive this car.”

  Already she hated that car because of what it represented-Dean’s lack of judgment.

  “I thoug
ht you were going to wait until you had your credit cards paid off and your credit cleaned up before you bought another car?”

  “Yeah, I was, but how could I turn down such great deal? And I should get my bonus next month. I’ll use that to pay off the credit cards. Besides, I’m going to save so much money moving in with you.”

  If they still moved in together. But she was having doubts. Serious doubts.

  “Especially with me paying three fourths of the rent for six months,” she said, trying to restrain the sarcasm.

  “Just until I get my credit cards paid off,” he said. “Hop in and let me take you for a ride.”

  The thought of getting into that overpriced car nauseated her. She needed to get away. She needed time to think. “Can I get a rain check on tonight? I’m tired, and I’m driving to Tyler tomorrow. I think I need to go home and get some rest. Maybe I overdid it this week.”

  He frowned at her. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

  “I don’t know. I just need to get some rest.”

  He took her by the hand, and she almost shivered. “I was looking forward to spending some time together tonight. Driving around in the car and furniture shopping.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she said. It wasn’t a complete lie. Until he’d driven up in that overpriced luxury boat, she’d thought they were back on track. Obviously not.

  “I’m going to have a busy week, so I better take care of myself now,” she said, knowing she couldn’t spend an evening with Dean without losing control of her emotions. They were barely held in check now.

  “Okay, I’ll drive out to see my parents. You go home and get some rest, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow before you leave.” He kissed her on the lips, released her hand, and then pulled out his keys. A big grin filled his face. “Watch me when I drive away. I look pretty cool, huh?”

  Lacey smiled at him, while inside she was howling with bitter laughter at the absurdity of his comment. “Yes, you do.”

  She watched him pull away, feeling like she was watching him drive away forever. Was this what she wanted in her life? Was this a precursor of being with someone who couldn’t control his urges and spent money he didn’t have?