A Deeper Dimension

by Amanda Carpenter

Diana began to fiddle with her napkin without looking at anybody. Alex had made his decision at the beginning of the week, and as far as she knew, everybody at the office had carefully steered clear of any mention of the subject. She wondered what Alex was going to say.

  His answer was simple and unrevealing. All he said was, “I never set out to destroy anybody’s business and I won’t start now. Payne has got to make it or go under on his own steam. I don’t want anything to do with him.” And that, she judged by Alex’s closed expression, would be all that was said about that. The two men went on to discuss various aspects of a possible contract deal which she had the good sense to stay out of. Vanessa, however, was a different matter. If she did not like a certain wording or a certain promise, she said so in a very pretty voice until it became apparent that Brent was going to do anything Vanessa said he should do. Diana got a clearer picture of the Valsing household as the discussion went on. Brent was in New York to conduct business and Vanessa was here to see that he did it right. She sat back in her chair and waited silently for the end of the evening.

  It came fairly quickly. As soon as Alex realised what was going on, and that the conclusion of the deal depended on the approval of a rather capricious woman, he politely but firmly put an end to the discussion. “My staff will put together a contract proposal by tomorrow afternoon so that you’ll have something in writing to study,” he said with remarkable patience. He ostentatiously looked at his watch. “And now, I’m afraid, we’re going to have to leave. I still have work to do tonight and I’ll have to start it soon if I’m to be done by midnight.” After many protests and explanations, he stood up and motioned to Diana that they had to leave. The farewells were pleasant enough, and the walk out of the restaurant was even more pleasant. She settled back in the seat of the car with a huge sigh of relief.

  He asked sympathetically, “Was the evening as bad as all that?”

  Shaking her head, she said with a chuckle, “No, it would have been worse if the evening had been longer.”

  He laughingly agreed. “The worst part had to be the dancing!” he exclaimed. “If Vanessa had put on any more perfume, I think I’d have suffocated!”

  “And Brent with his rubber lips,” she began to giggle again as she pictured in her mind his face. “And who in the world are the Strattons from Kentucky?”

  Alex shook his head and his shoulders shook with mirth, “I don’t know! Some aristocratic horse nuts, I guess!”

  “Oh, Alex dear, you must dance one more dance with me, or I’ll be terribly hurt, simply terribly!” she trebled in a falsetto mimicry of Vanessa’s particular brand of charm. Alex had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

  The drive back to the Mason parking lot where Diana’s car was parked was accomplished in an amazingly short time. She looked around as Alex pulled up the car beside hers and thought, It’s been too short. Tomorrow we go back to all the strains and tensions that were there before tonight, and it will be as if this pleasant comradeship had never been. Tomorrow. She turned her head to look at him as he switched off the car.

  He felt it too, and when he spoke there was a tone of formality in his voice that seemed to put a barrier between them. “I never thanked you for rearranging your schedule so that you could come tonight,” he told her quietly. “You helped carry things beautifully during the evening.”

  Diana gave a little shrug and spoke diffidently. “I rather thought I was the cause of tension tonight, for some reason. Vanessa didn’t appear to—well, she probably would have been happier—that is, I’m sure you could have handled things very well on your own.”

  He looked at the steering wheel in front of him. “She wasn’t exactly affectionate towards you tonight, was she?”

  She gave a little laugh. “No, I don’t think affectionate was quite the word for how she felt towards me!”

  “Envy would be more like it, wouldn’t it?” Alex still didn’t look at her.

  She frowned. “I don’t quite follow you.” Jealousy would have been the word that she would have chosen. An ill-founded, irrational jealousy a married woman had no right to feel, just because an available and attractive male showed a little attention to someone else beside her. Diana pictured the narrow, cat eyes again when Alex put his arm across her shoulders.

  “I think that it’s very understandable,” he continued. “Here you have a very insecure woman who’s trying desperately to hold on to what good looks she has, while she knows deep down that whatever attractiveness she had any claim to is rapidly fading into plump middle age. She looks at you, with your tall slimness and beautifully proportioned body, and your vibrant colouring, and feels drab. Even her husband pays attention to you. No wonder she feels the need to alternately strike out at you, who threatens her, or woo every man in reach—who happened to be me. She was trying to establish her own worth.”

  “I never thought of it like that,” Diana murmured, taken aback. Someone actually feeling threatened by her!

  “No,” he agreed with a strange tightness to his voice. “No, you wouldn’t, would you? You only think of yourself in terms of logic and reason. You never leave any room for the irrational or the emotional. You have it all figured out.”

  “I never said that!” She swung her head as she snapped.

  “You wouldn’t know what it would be like to need others’ approval or acceptance,” he continued relentlessly. There was a deep glow of what looked like anger in his eyes and she wondered why in the world he would be angry with her. “You don’t understand people like Vanessa who want to be attractive to others.”

  “Will you just shut up!” Diana hissed, her lips tight across her teeth. “What reason do you have for talking to me like this? I didn’t ask for it!”

  “That’s right. You don’t need other people, their criticism or caring. You’re a totally self-sufficient entity, aren’t you? Just like a machine, Diana.” His voice had risen and she found herself shouting back.

  “And don’t you forget it!” she yelled. They glared at each other for a moment. Diana straightened her shoulders and withdrew perceptibly. She spoke and her voice was very cold. “I don’t need this conversation, I don’t need other people, and I certainly don’t need you.” She fumbled for the door latch, her face turned away from him.

  Suddenly she was jerked back around to face him and she stared up into his white face and glowing eyes. Good lord, is he in a rage, she thought dazedly to herself, and then he was speaking. “…never need anybody, do you? I just wonder if you know how to want somebody.” He started to lower his head towards hers and she felt a sudden panic when she realised his intention. She pushed him as hard as she could with both hands against his shoulders, but it was like pushing a granite wall as she felt the latent strength of his body. “My God,” he breathed, “I bet you’ve never even been kissed!” He held her head firmly with one hand behind it, and then his mouth was on hers. She was very shocked at the primitive feelings that Alex aroused in her, feelings she had never experienced before. She had a dazed impression of a hard pressure on her lips that slowly started to ease and soften, and a large looming bulk of strength that was huge before her, and as Alex’s arms slid to hold her, around her. She didn’t even try to think, for she was too busy experiencing the fascinating realm of feeling when Alex jerked back. His breathing was harsh as he stared down into her widened eyes and at her tumbled hair. Then he set her roughly back on the seat and snapped hardly, “That’s what it’s like to want somebody!”

  She sat a moment, holding herself very still. Then without a word, she quietly opened her car door and got out. There was really nothing to say. Alex started his car, not waiting to see if she got in her car safely, backing away as soon as she had closed the passenger door.

  When she was at home and in bed, Alex’s words kept tumbling over and over again in her mind, like a broken record. Wanting? There was no question of wanting him. She had wanted him since the first time she looked at the length of his body. She had just been ignora
nt of what to name it. As she lay in bed, she could again feel the pressure on her lips, and the impression of hard arms around her body. It was almost as if he was here, in the room, and all she had to do was to reach out across the pillow…damn! She cursed at her own imagination. Then, with a violent shudder, she put a hard discipline on her thoughts. She might want him, but she sure as hell did not need him. Sleep came fitfully for Diana that night.

  The next morning when she reached the office, she had barely stepped inside the door when Alex snapped at her. Outraged and furious, she retaliated. All morning long they were like two animals, continually snapping and snarling. This time, even Carrie was drawn into the mood when Alex nearly reduced her to tears over a mistake she had made over the phone to a client.

  When Carrie had left the room, Diana rounded on him. “There was no good reason for you to upset her so much over a simple mistake!” she spat at him angrily. He stared back at her with a stony expression on his face.

  “I don’t see that it’s any of your business what I do,” he spoke, emphasising each word. There was a tautness in the way he held himself, an anger that was controlled in every movement.

  “I don’t give a damn what you do,” she retorted, her eyes flashing. “But you know and I know that your temper had nothing to do with Carrie herself, but it was an outlet for some stupid sort of anger you’re feeling towards me. Well, don’t take it out on other people, because it’s none of their business! If you can’t take it out on me then keep it to yourself!” She turned away from him, her face hard.

  Suddenly her shoulders were grabbed in a bruising grip and she found herself twirled around and shaken hard. She held herself rigid, refusing to relax or give way under the hardness of Alex’s hands. He stopped as quickly as he started and they stared at each other for a moment. He thrust her away from himself and turned to pace the room in jerky movements, unlike his usual coordinated grace.

  Diana also moved unsteadily as she groped for her chair, unable to see through eyes blinded with tears. Her shoulders were throbbing where Alex had gripped them so hard, but she hardly noticed the pain aside from a fleeting thought of what marks she might find tomorrow. A drop of wetness spilled over and on to her hands as she gripped them together on her desk top. She didn’t pay any attention.

  “Dear God!” He spoke and she visibly jumped as she took in his unexpected nearness. She hadn’t been aware of his approach. He stood looking at her, his face very pale and his eyes darkly shadowed. His hands were clenched to his sides and the knuckles showed white against the dark hairs. He moved and she was being held very gently against his chest with his face in her hair. “Diana, I’m sorry. Never in my whole life have I done that to someone. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  He stroked her hair over and over as he crooned the words. She moved her face for a moment, hiding in his broad, comforting shoulder. It was hard to comprehend just what she was feeling; pain of this sort was an entirely new experience. She wondered how she had ever existed without experiencing it before. Something inside her stiffened and she moved away from Alex sharply. She stared at him without expression, her eyes bitter and stony; she hated him for what he made her feel.

  He drew his breath in sharply at what he read in her face and began to speak, but she cut him off. “Don’t be sorry, Alex.” She almost didn’t recognise her own voice, it sounded so strange. Her lips moved in an imitation of a smile. “I can take anything you dish out. It doesn’t matter to me.” She watched his face go blank as he took in her words, his eyes focused on her yet unseeing. She looked away and at her desk. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get back to work. After all, it’s what I’m being paid for.”

  She pretended to concentrate on her opened briefcase in front of her when she sat down, and she didn’t look up when Alex left the room without explanation.

  The rest of the day was spent in near silence. Alex was very remote, almost as if he didn’t recognise the presence of someone else in the room. Diana rarely looked up from her desk in an effort to totally immerse herself in what she was working on, but it didn’t work. She made more mistakes than she had ever made before in her life, and by the end of the afternoon was almost crying with frustration. She left the office without saying goodbye and hurried home to go straight to bed. The day had exhausted her so much that she fell immediately into a deep sleep and didn’t stir all night. In the morning, when she finally opened her eyes, she had the feeling of being drugged from too much sleep, and she was horrified to find out how late in the day it was. She jumped out of bed quickly. Even though it was Saturday, she still had a lot to do, for tomorrow she had promised to go and see Grace Bradshaw. There was a heavy load of work waiting for her: the apartment needed cleaning and groceries had to be bought. Diana threw herself into the day’s chores with something akin to desperation and did not stop until late in the evening when she was forced to stop from sheer exhaustion. Again, her night’s sleep was deep to the point of being dreamless and the morning found her listless and tired. She did not attempt to get dressed until it was time to go in the afternoon, spending the morning in an aimless fashion as she drank coffee and lazed over the Sunday paper.

  Grace was happy to see her; Diana watched her face light up with pleasure when she answered the front door. Eagerly talking, Grace led her into a comfortable sitting room and took her light coat to hang up in the hall closet. Diana chose one of the big armchairs near a fireplace when she saw a tea set near one with fresh pastries on a tray.

  Grace came back almost immediately, her face crinkled into a broad smile. “Oh, good,” she exclaimed. “You’ve made yourself comfortable. Now we can sit and have a really good talk. Aren’t these pastries nice? Here, have one. Mrs. Cummings is a very good cook, and we’re lucky to have her. How are you, my dear? You look so tired.”

  “I’ve slept too much this weekend,” she smiled. “That’s as bad as not sleeping enough.”

  Grace laughed. “Isn’t it, though? But tell me, how was the picnic last Sunday? Did you and Alex have a good time?” Grace was alarmed to see an expressionless mask drop over Diana’s face before she replied. Owen was telling things accurately when he had said that there had been an unusual amount of tension at the office lately, and Grace made a sudden shrewd guess as to why.

  Diana said carefully, “We had lovely weather that day and Mrs. Mason packed a delicious lunch for us. It couldn’t have been any nicer.”

  Grace paused, then asked diffidently, “So you had a nice time on Sunday?”

  “The picnic was lovely,” Diana said truthfully, for indeed it had been, except for the end.

  Grace was reluctant to leave it at that, but she was in the end very tactful. Instead she asked Diana how she found her work and if she was finding everything within her ability to understand and to cope. Diana relaxed a little and was able to respond with a more natural reply. They were able to talk about most things without any uncomfortable snags and the time passed very pleasantly, until car doors were heard slamming outside and Grace stood up. “That must be Owen!” she exclaimed as she hurried to the front door. “He’d met Alex at the office to go over a few problems and was supposed to be back about a half hour ago.”

  Diana idly listened to the voices coming from the front door and suddenly sat up straight. A deep voice was talking back to Grace, the words unintelligible, but the tone unmistakable. Alex had come back with Owen. She made a deliberate attempt to relax and settle back in her chair, only to look down at her hands and start with surprise at her clenched fists. She loosened them as footsteps sounded near in the hall.

  Alex was the first in the room, with Grace and Owen following. He slowed abruptly when he saw Diana in the armchair, and his nostrils flared as his head drew back. Then everything was almost too normal with Alex being too polite, and Diana, knowing it all to be a front, almost didn’t bother to respond. It really was a bit ridiculous, she thought, looking around. Everybody knew something was wrong, but everyb
ody was trying their very best not to show that they knew it. She met Alex’s gaze, and they stared at one another for a long moment. She quickly stood up. “Grace, I really must be going,” she said with a smile. “The afternoon is almost gone and I hardly know where it went! Thank you for a lovely talk, and I promise to come again soon.” She turned to Alex and if her eyes didn’t quite meet his, nobody else could tell. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex.”

  His tone was sarcastic. “So long, Diana.” He made no attempt to move his long legs and she had to step over them on the way to the doorway.

  “Oh, Diana,” Grace called, “don’t go! You need your coat.”

  Alex was on his feet very quickly. “Sit down, Grace, I’ll get it for her. Is it in the front closet?” Diana turned reluctantly; she didn’t want to be alone with Alex, even for a few minutes in the hall. Alex brushed ahead of her and out to the hall and she followed, feet dragging.

  He opened the closet door and looked in it briefly. Pulling out a coat, he held it up. “Yours?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Alex held open the coat and she turned to put her arms through the sleeves. There was a brief moment when his hands rested lightly on her shoulders, and then he was stepping back from her. She turned to thank him and her words faltered at the cold blaze in his eyes. He shook his head sharply when she had begun to speak.

  “Don’t bother,” he said abruptly. “We both know that you didn’t need the help.”

  Diana closed her eyes. “Dammit, why don’t you just leave me alone?” she whispered. “Why can’t you just shut up and leave me alone?”

  He stared at her a minute, a dark flush on the line of his cheekbone. He took her face in his two hands. “I can’t,” he hissed between his clenched teeth. “The waste of any human being is a terrible thing to see.”

  “But then, to listen to you, I’m not human, am I?” she said cynically. His hands dropped; he stepped away.

  “That’s right. You’re not human.” He moved to the door. “I have to move my car so you can pull out. No sense in wasting time—come on.”