by Mia Zachary
Chris yanked the ringing phone off the hook. It had been a long, sleepless night and his nerves were frayed, leaving him feeling exposed and irritated.
Reaching up with both hands, he massaged the base of his neck. This could very well go down as one of the worst days of his life. From the minute he’d walked into his office, he’d been fielding phone calls from clients canceling their services. If he thought for one minute he could get away with it, Grant Bronson would already be a homicide statistic.
The son of a bitch had used their college acquaintance as leverage for gaining Chris’s trust. He’d given Grant courtship counseling in good faith only to find out the bastard was a tabloid reporter working undercover. The story had run in the early edition of the Inquirer this morning and clients had been calling ever since.
He looked up at a knock on his office door. Lara stuck her head in, frown lines etched deeply into her forehead. “I’ve had six cancellations by phone, there are four people waiting in the lobby to talk to you in person and I haven’t even looked at my e-mails yet.”
“Okay, Lara. Find a temp agency and see if we can hire a receptionist to answer calls and take messages for the rest of the day. Hang on.” Chris paused as his phone rang. “Hello?”
“Yeah, this is Bob Dawson. How come you never gave me any special treatment?”
“Mr. Dawson, I’m sorry—”
“I didn’t get no private sessions and I didn’t find a good match, either. I want a refund.”
Chris reached up to massage his temples. “Someone from accounting will get back to you on that, Mr. Dawson. We’d appreciate your patience while we sort things out. Thank you.” He hung up the phone, muttering, “Murder is too good for him.”
Lara cocked her head. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry, I was thinking about Bronson. Can you also call our lawyers at Kensington and Style to find out if we have any recourse against the newspaper?”
“Sure, Chris. But I wouldn’t hold out much hope.” Lara closed the door behind her.
He didn’t. In fact, he didn’t have any hope. Not only wouldn’t he be able to open new locations, he’d be lucky to keep this one open.
“FALSE POSITIVE. Is that some kind of oxymoron?” P.J. lifted her hand to get the waiter’s attention.
“It means you owe me a butt kicking, thank God.” Rei smiled. She was almost lightheaded with relief and a kind of giddy euphoria coursed through her, like the warm afterglow of a fine wine.
The waiter at Café Stefani refilled their glasses and cleared away the appetizer plates.
“Dr. Solís explained that sometimes other conditions can indicate cancer where there isn’t actually a recurrence. In my case, I suffer with endometriosis and that may have caused the incorrect test result.”
P.J. raised her tea glass. “Here’s to mistakes, honey.”
Despite the overcast sky and cool temperatures, Rei had insisted that they eat lunch outside. She wanted to feel the teasing hint of spring in the air, let the light breeze touch her face and just breathe. She was having trouble adjusting mentally. Having been so afraid she might be sick again, she couldn’t quite believe that she’d dodged that bullet.
When her cell phone rang, she picked it up to check the caller display. 415-555-4681, Chris’s number. She let it ring again. What was he calling her for? Wait, that wasn’t fair. He was a decent guy.
But while part of her wanted to hear his voice, the rest of her was too tired for more intense emotions. She hadn’t realized how worried she’d really been, despite her efforts at denial, and the stress had taken its toll.
P.J. speculated, “A frantic call from Mary Alice asking you to come into court?”
“It’s Chris.”
“I’ll bet he’s pretty frantic, too, now that everybody knows he’s some kind of con artist.”
Rei frowned and shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“Sorry. Of course you’ve been preoccupied.” P.J. pulled what looked like a tabloid newspaper from her tote bag and slid it across the table. “The Board is foaming at the mouth over my poor investment choice. It looks like Lunch Meetings won’t be getting the expansion loan after all.”
Rei reached for the copy of the San Francisco Inquirer and read the banner, her curiosity rapidly transforming to dismay with each word.
Dating Service Setup!
Lunch Meetings Matchmaker Pulls Strings Behind the Scenes
Printed beneath the headline was a small headshot of Chris, as well as one of him kissing Rei on the front step of her house. The article started off with a general description of the dating service, but quickly segued into a behind-the-scenes recap that included quotes from several Lunch Meetings clients.
The reporter even went so far as to wonder if “Mr. London’s girlfriend, Rei Davis, a Superior Court Commissioner and daughter of esteemed Associate Justice Gordon Davis, knew about his date doctor scheme and shared his disregard for propriety. Readers may recall that Commissioner Davis was recently in the news for awarding a light sentence to a violent gang member.”
The story told of Chris’s efforts to affect clients’ behavior modification from clothes shopping and etiquette lessons, to trips to local nightclubs and prearranged dates. Rei immediately thought about the night at Divas. Chris had told her he’d been there with a client. She’d thought it was a coincidence, their meeting at the club, but what if he’d somehow followed P.J.?
Her friend had accused him of a setup. Could P.J. be right?
Her thoughts turned to their conversation in the Zuni Café. When she’d accused him of stealing information and betraying her trust, he’d denied it. There was no way she would return his call now. How could she ever trust him again?
“Looks like we ended it just in time.” She tossed the newspaper onto the table and reached for her tea.
P.J. gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. “Oh, Rei. What happened?”
She closed her eyes, turning her face toward the pale sunlight. But, unable to escape the memory of Chris’s expression and the hurt that expression caused, she opened them again.
“I made the mistake of letting down my guard, of thinking long term.” She told P.J. about the night she’d gotten Dr. Solís’s call. “I didn’t date a lawyer, but the ending was the same.”
P.J. regarded her with wise, blue eyes. “Not quite. I think you really fell for this guy.”
“Maybe. Maybe I did. But I’ll get over it.” She shrugged. Even as she said it, though, Rei recognized the fact that Chris wasn’t like the other men she’d dated. She really had let herself care this time.
“I’m sorry, for your sake, that it’s over.”
“Hey, it’s for the best, right? I’m glad I found out now, instead after the ‘in sickness and in health’ part of the vows.”
P.J. ignored her attempt at a joke. “Talk to Chris. There’s probably a logical explanation for all of this, and you two might be able to work it out.”
“I don’t think so, Peej. No matter what he says, I can’t forget that instinctive first reaction.” Rei looked down at the sticky medical tape residue inside her right elbow. “It hurts less if you rip a bandage off quickly.”
P.J. tilted her head and nibbled her lower lip, a habit that signified there was something on her mind. Rei knew from experience just to wait it out, and indeed P.J. finally drew a breath and haltingly began to speak.
“You know, we’ve known each other for a long time. And I sometimes wonder how our friendship has lasted this long. You are bright and witty and loyal and so many other good things. But, Rei, you’re also one of the least forgiving people I’ve ever met.”
She gasped, stunned by the blunt observation and by the cold recognition of truth. For what seemed like the hundredth time in the past twenty-four hours, tears stung the back of her eyes. Rei felt too dejected to even get angry.
“I’m sorry, Rei, but it’s true. The instant someone disappoints you, you cut them out of your life.”
She realize
d what P.J. had said was true and cringed inside. Rei drew patterns in the condensation on her glass, not meeting P.J.’s eye. “You make me sound like a complete bitch.”
“You’re not a bitch. You’re a woman whose protective shell has grown into plated armor. Outside of the courtroom, you never give anyone a second chance. That makes it harder for them to hurt you, but you never give them an opportunity to make up for it either.”
Was this the reason the men in her life were never around when she needed them, why it was so hard for her to make close friends? Had she subconsciously done something to push them away? She thought back over several relationships, about offences big and small. She wasn’t wrong. Those people had let her down. Hadn’t they?
Rei shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was getting psychoanalyzed every time she turned around lately. “So what’s your advice? Call Chris and restart a relationship that was founded on deception?”
P.J.’s intense gaze contradicted her gentle tone. “Chris isn’t the man you need to talk to, honey. You’ll never get any sense of closure until you resolve your issues with Gordon.”
Rei felt her expression harden along with her voice. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”
“Then you need to accept the fact that you’re never going to be whole or happy.”
REI SPENT most of Saturday in bed. She’d earned a day of wallowing in self-pity, something she normally didn’t indulge in. But, frankly, it had been a hellacious week and all she wanted to do was sleep. Sleep was the ultimate avoidance tactic—except when it resulted in dreams.
She stood on the edge of a canyon, a frigid wind howling in her ears and slapping against her face. There were people all around her—friends, acquaintances and coworkers, family.
She tried to speak but no one seemed to hear her. Then she realized she was encased in a bubble of glass.
Though she stood among the crowd, she couldn’t touch them and they couldn’t get through to her. They reached out for her, but she slipped over the precipice, falling into isolated darkness.
Rei awoke with a start, her heart racing and the stale residue of nightmares clinging to her skin. Her temples throbbed with a slight headache. Shoving the covers aside, she got up and padded to the en suite where she ran warm water over a cloth. After washing her face, she looked up and caught sight of herself in the mirror.
Usually when she looked, she noticed only the sum of her parts, not her face as a whole. Had she always appeared this stern? Did her eyes always look so uncompromising?
Was this how people saw her? P.J. had held up a different kind of mirror today, and she’d liked her reflection in that one even less. It hurt to be accused of sharing the fault for her failed relationships. She’d thought she had changed, but maybe she hadn’t come as far from her pre-cancer days as she claimed. Rei turned aside and left the bedroom.
After half-heartedly slapping a sandwich together in the kitchen, Rei wandered back upstairs to the office, still in her nightshirt in the middle of the day. She turned on the computer with the intention of checking the news. The best way to stop feeling sorry for herself was to remember that others had it so much worse.
Her e-mail program opened before the Internet browser, though. There were five messages from Chris each successively shorter until she reached this last:
HOW ARE YOU?
I know we’re through, but what did the doctor say? Are you all right?
Chris
We’re through.
She had spoken the words earlier today, the words that she should have anticipated hearing from him. She had no right to feel surprised or sad or disappointed, and yet her sense of loss went beyond tears. Chris was so much more than a great lover. He was charming and sweet and patient, more patient than she deserved maybe.
Having never reached out before, where did she begin? Begin with the obvious. But what did she want to say? She missed him, missed his affection and friendship. But, despite taking P.J.’s words to heart, she believed she had grounds for not fully trusting Chris.
And where did that leave them? Nowhere really.
RE: HOW ARE YOU?
I’m okay. Thanks for asking.
Rei
HE’D FINALLY heard from Rei and her reply couldn’t have been colder. He didn’t know if she meant she wasn’t sick, or if she was just blowing him off. He hoped it was the former and he wished her well. But, even though he missed her and worried about her, he was through chasing after someone who didn’t want to get caught.
Chris frowned as he pulled his truck in front of his mother’s house. There was a blue Toyota Camry parked next to her Honda in the driveway. He recognized it in abstract disbelief, but a quick check of the tag number confirmed that it was his father’s car.
What the hell was he doing here?
He opened the front door and walked through the foyer toward the back of the house. “Hello? Mom?”
“In the living room, dear.”
Sunlight streamed through the glass sliders, illuminating the tableau. Chris faltered in mid-stride at the sight of his parents sitting, side by side, on the green striped couch. It wasn’t their proximity after so long that shocked him as much as their relaxed demeanor. They appeared as if it were perfectly normal for them to be sharing a seat, when to his knowledge, they hadn’t spoken in years.
“Hello, son.” His father looked at him warily and shifted away, widening the space between him and Jeanna.
But his mother reached for his hand and greeted Chris with a quiet smile. “Hi, sweetheart. I was expecting you to stop by today.”
“What’s going on, Mom?”
“Come and sit down, Chris.”
He walked further into the room and chose an armchair across from his parents, who were holding hands. He felt like he was in the Twilight Zone, seeing but not quite believing.
Jeanna took a deep breath and glanced at David. She exhaled with a little laugh. “I don’t know how to tell you this. I realize it’s a bit of a shock. But your father is the man I’ve been dating. He and I are getting back together.”
She waited for his reaction with an expression of pleased anticipation. Chris looked at his father for confirmation, then back at Jeanna. “Why?”
His mother startled and the happy glow faded slightly from her face. The question had been spoken more harshly than he’d intended. But he couldn’t help the sudden flood of anger, false hope and resentment that filled him.
David faced him directly and calmly held his accusatory gaze. “I understand this may be difficult for you and your sisters to understand, Chris. I did wrong by your mother, and by you kids, and you have no idea how sorry I am.”
“No, Dad, I guess I don’t. What do you think, that you’re just going to pick up where you left off? With the emphasis on being on the word left.”
He knew he was being unfair, but Chris couldn’t seem to help himself. On the one hand, he was glad for the gleam in his mother’s eyes, for the bright color in her cheeks. But the angry, abandoned boy inside him demanded to know how David dared try to come back into their lives like this.
“I’m the luckiest man in the world that your mother is willing to try again. We’ve talked a lot over the past months and I’ve tried to make it up to her. She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved and I’m going to do my damnedest to make her happy. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’m hoping we might be a real family again.”
This was what he’d longed for as a boy, but as a grown man who had too often faced disappointment, Chris found himself less than forgiving. “What happens if it doesn’t work out, Mom? What if things get tough or even just uncomfortable? How can you trust him not to walk out again?”
He and his father had never really dealt with this, never talked about what David had done or how Chris felt about it. They had ignored the wall between them, talked around it, stepping aside and pretending it wasn’t there while it grew taller and thicker.
His mother’s gaze softened, her hazel eyes sym
pathetic but determined. “Sometimes, my darling, you have to have faith. You have to trust people to do the right thing. I believe your father has changed and is deserving of a second chance.”
“Looking back, it all made sense at the time. But it’s so hard to explain now.” David hung his head and sighed. “We married young and I guess I had this illusion of what my life would be like. When our marriage didn’t meet those impossible expectations, we drifted apart until the gulf seemed too wide to cross. So I walked away from the best thing that ever happened to me, searching in vain for something better.”
Chris scoffed. It had been a lame-assed excuse the first time he’d heard it and it didn’t sound any better now. “Did you find it, Dad? Did you find something worth hurting everyone you claimed to love?”
His father looked up and shook his head. “No, son, I didn’t. It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, but I didn’t realize until it was too late.”
“But it’s not too late for us, Chris. It’s never really too late if you can find forgiveness in your heart.” Jeanna’s tone of voice begged him to unbend, to meet his father halfway. “Life is spanned by small bridges between people and those bridges have to go in both directions.”
David kissed Jeanna’s temple then got up from the couch. He walked over and stood in front of Chris, looking down at him but not down on him. “A man has to admit when he’s made a huge mistake and be brave enough to ask for that second chance. I’m blessed that your mother has forgiven me. I don’t expect you to. But I’m asking anyway.” He put out his hand.
The last time he’d cried had been the day his father left. Now, on the day his father was asking to come back, Chris felt tears sting his eyes for the first time in nineteen years. He felt a tightness in his chest and reminded himself to breathe. In his mind, he saw the wall begin to crumble, a few bricks at a time. It was time to rebuild it as a bridge.
Chris stood slowly, unable to resist the pleading in David’s gaze and took the offered hand. “Welcome home, Dad.”
