Songbird

by Syrie James

“It’s better if I go now.” She’d snapped her suitcase shut with a bitter thud. “We’ve said all we have to say. I’ll call a cab.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He’d grabbed the suitcase from her hand. “If you’re so set on leaving, I’ll drive you to the airport.”

  “Thank you.”

  They’d sat in tense silence as Kyle steered the Maserati over the wet streets, rain pelting the windshield. When they finally reached the airport, he’d carried her bag to the counter, waited while she changed her reservation, then walked her to the gate. The flight was just about to board. Desiree had fumbled miserably with the shoulder strap on her purse as she purposely avoided his gaze.

  “Kyle, I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” she’d said brokenly. “I’ve felt like a different person since we met. You’ve given me more confidence than I’ve ever had before. I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”

  His low, muttered curse had forced her to raise her eyes to his. The pain contorting his face hurt her like a physical blow. She’d bit her lip against an onrush of tears.

  “I’m so sorry,” she finished, her voice barely a whisper.

  He briefly grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. “So am I.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

  The day after she returned home, a small box had arrived with a card from Kyle. “Desiree: I’ll always love you,” the card read. “Like the contents of this white box, we’re a perfect matched pair. We belong together. There’s got to be a way we can work things out. Please. Come back to me.”

  A wistful ache wrenched at her heart as she stared at the box. It was pink, not white. Inside, on a bed of pale pink velvet, rested a set of custom-crafted pierced earrings: two delicate golden songbirds, similar to the pendant she wore, with a sparkling diamond chip in each eye.

  She’d burst into tears.

  The earrings were still in the box, buried under the scarves in her bottom dresser drawer. Would she ever be able to bring herself to wear them?

  The squawk of a seagull yanked her back to the present. Desiree blinked back fresh tears, curling her toes into the damp sand as she walked. She remembered another sea gull’s cry on an idyllic afternoon with Kyle at Catalina. Years, not weeks, seemed to have passed since that wonderful day. The pain of loneliness and loss spread throughout her body until her insides felt like one immense, gaping chasm.

  Try to remember what life was like before you met him, she told herself, as she trudged up the sand and across the parking lot to her car. Did you feel happy? Energetic? Did you look forward to each new day? Yes! You were lonely, but you’d learned to accept it. And you’ll learn to accept it again.

  She opened the car door, cleaned off her feet, and got in. Turning the key to auxiliary power, she flipped on the car radio.

  “Hope you’re having a great morning out there, Santa Barbara,” said a cheerful masculine radio voice. “I sure am. On the way in this morning—”

  She tuned out the voice, crossing her arms on the steering wheel as she wearily lowered her head. Radio. That’s where the excitement was. The drama, the thrill, the power she wielded within the confines of her small control room. She’d always loved it. It had been her whole life. Why, then, didn’t she care anymore? Where had the magic gone?

  “And now for some Streisand,” said the radio voice. A pause. And then sweet, familiar notes rent the air. Desiree’s head flew up and she stared at the radio as if it possessed satanic powers. “Songbird.” Of all the songs to play...

  She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She knew every note, every word. The lyrics wove through her mind and body, reaching down to her soul. The songbird’s sweet music brings others joy, the words said. Her song sets people free. Yet no one knows the songbird. She’s sad and alone...and lonely. Who will sing for her?

  Desiree’s chest constricted with an ache of longing and emptiness. I’m nothing more than a voice coming out of a box, she realized with sudden, agonizing clarity. I make others happy. But no one sings for me.

  You fool, a voice cried within her. He loves you. He’s the music in your soul, the one who can set you free. Everything will work out if only you’re together. Nothing else matters. Nothing.

  She gripped the steering wheel with fierce determination. How could she have been so blind? How could she have imagined she could live without him? She loved him. She needed him. Her work meant nothing if she couldn’t have him.

  Desiree turned on the ignition and stamped on the gas pedal. The engine roared to life. She sped out of the parking lot, down the street, and pulled to a screeching halt in front of the first phone booth she could find.

  I only hope I’m not too late, she thought desperately as she jumped out of the car and raced to the phone booth. She dipped into her purse, grabbed her address book, and searched for Kyle’s office number with trembling fingers.

  I’ll find a job in Seattle, take whatever I can get, she decided. Who cares what shift it is? Who cares what I’m leaving behind? At least we’ll be together.

  She drummed her fingernails against the booth’s glass door as she waited for the operator to put through the credit card call. She’d do her best, she reasoned, make a name for herself, and in no time she’d be on top again. If she lost her job some day and couldn’t find another one...to hell with it! She’d do something else.

  She didn’t know what else she would do, couldn’t think that far ahead. She only knew that she loved Kyle and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, her professional future be damned.

  “Harrison Industries,” an efficient female voice said finally on the other end of the line.

  “Kyle Harrison, please.” Her voice sounded unnaturally high and shrill in her ears.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrison is out of town. Would you care to leave a message?”

  Out of town? Where was he? In Tulsa again? “Well, I...this is Desiree Germain, and—”

  “Oh, yes, Miss Germain,” the woman replied cordially, as if they were old friends. “How may I help you?”

  “I have to talk to him. It’s very important. Can you tell me where I can reach him?”

  “Certainly. He’s in Southern California.”

  Southern California? Desiree gave a little gasp of surprise and delight. “Where’s he staying? Can you give me the name and number of his hotel?” She scribbled down the information on the back of an envelope in her purse, said a hurried goodbye, and hung up.

  The hotel was in Anaheim. What was he doing there? she wondered. Did he come down to see her? What would he do when he found her gone?

  She called the hotel and asked for his room. She let the phone ring a good twenty times before she slammed down the receiver and glanced at her watch. Nine-fifteen. Damn. Where could he be?

  She jumped back into her car and roared off. Thank God she’d missed the morning rush-hour traffic. She could be home in two hours, if she sped all the way and didn’t pass any highway patrolmen. He might have stopped at the station and found out she’d be back to work today. If so, was there a chance he’d be waiting for her outside her house? Please, please, wait for me my darling, she prayed silently. I’m coming back to you.

  The drive seemed interminable. The car shot past long stretches of dry, arid landscape, sped through the San Fernando Valley, over the mountainous Sepulveda Pass, and past the L.A. airport, on toward Orange County. At last she turned onto her street, her heart pounding like a locomotive, her eyes searching for another rented Maserati.

  The driveway and curb stood empty.

  Maybe he came in a taxi, she thought frantically. Maybe he used his key and is waiting inside. She pulled to a halt, raced up to the front door, unlocked it, and called his name. The house was hot and musty, as empty as the day she left it.

  “Where are you, Kyle Harrison?” she shouted. Her voice echoed in the stillness.

  She called the hotel again. No answer. She called
his office in Seattle. “Sorry to bother you again, but I can’t seem to reach Mr. Harrison at his hotel. Do you have any idea where else he might be?”

  “He left word we could reach him at the station this morning. KICK. He—”

  “Oh! Of course! Thank you.” Desiree hung up, elated. Since she wasn’t home, of course he’d wait for her at the station! She peeled off her clothes and took a fast, hot shower. Forty-five minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot behind the station, dressed in a denim skirt and blue cotton blouse. She pushed open the double glass doors, disappointment surging through her when she saw the deserted lobby. Only Barbara was in the room, speaking rapidly into the phone behind the reception counter.

  “Yes, sir. Fine. I will.” Barbara caught Desiree’s eye and gestured emphatically for her to wait. “I’ll put it in the mail today. Thank you for calling.” She disconnected the line and stood up. “Des! At last! You’re back.” Her eyes gleamed with some indefinable emotion. “How was your vacation?”

  “Therapeutic. Listen, has anyone been by here to see—”

  “Des, big things have been happening around here while you were gone,” Barbara cut in. “Westler’s been in meetings all week. And guess what? He sold the station.”

  “Sold it? When?”

  “They finalized everything yesterday. Westler took off, but the new guy is here. He said he wants to talk with you as soon as you get in.”

  “Talk with me?” Desiree asked, stunned. “Why?”

  “You’d better hurry. He’s been waiting for over an hour.” She shooed Desiree off toward the door that led into the station. “Go. He’s in Westler’s old office.”

  Frowning, Desiree opened the door and hurried down the hall. What was he going to do? Fire her? If so, she didn’t care. She intended to leave anyway.

  The door to Westler’s office stood open. She stepped over the threshold, then stopped, frozen. The man behind the desk looked up from a stack of papers, his handsome face grim, unreadable, his green eyes wary.

  “Hello, Desiree,” Kyle said quietly.

  Her mouth flew open, but no words came out. What was he doing, sitting behind Westler’s desk? Was this some kind of a joke? Then suddenly, all the jumbled pieces of information she’d learned this morning fell into place in her mind like a reassembled jigsaw puzzle. She gasped in astonishment. “You bought the radio station?”

  “Close the door, will you please?”

  She complied mechanically. He gestured toward the chair facing his desk. “Have a seat.”

  Desiree dropped stiffly into the chair, her mind whirling, alternately accepting and rejecting what she’d just heard. Kyle’s eyes seemed to search hers for a sign, an indication of her feelings. But she was so taken aback she could only return his stare blankly.

  He frowned, then turned his attention back to the papers in his hands. He made a few notations, then set them aside. “I hope you enjoyed your vacation?” The cold, brittle edge to his voice cut the air like a knife.

  “It was...fine.”

  “Good.” He lifted several sheets from a folder at his left and extended them to her across the desk. She didn’t look at them, her eyes still focused on the hard lines of his cheeks and jaw. “It’ll take a few weeks before the sale is final,” he said. “But in the meantime, you’ll be glad to know your future at KICK is secure. You can take over as general manager, or keep your spot on the air, or both—whatever you like. I’ve had papers drawn up to make you a partner in the firm. You’ll want to get an attorney to look them over, but what it boils down to is a fifty-percent share after five years if the company shows a consistent profit.”

  If she felt astonishment before, now she was completely stunned. “Fifty percent share?”

  His brief smile ended before it reached his eyes. “Yes. You won’t have to worry about job security now. Of course you’ll have a few more responsibilities, but nothing you can’t handle.”

  Tears burned behind her eyes. How could he have thought she’d want the station? My God, the idea had never even entered her mind. She didn’t even want her job anymore. She wanted him! If only she could fly into his arms, make him understand. She wanted to admit how wrong she’d been, to tell him she loved him and wanted, more than life itself, to marry him. But he was acting so cold, calculating, and impersonal. Had his anger killed his feelings for her? If so, why had he done all this?

  “I don’t know what to say.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I never expected you to buy the station. I don’t deserve such generosity. Really. I—”

  “It wasn’t generosity.” He stood up abruptly. His eyes impaled hers across the desk. “I had the funds available. I’ve been looking for an alternate investment for the past month. At the moment, this station breaks even at best. But you show outstanding devotion to your work. I’m convinced that, under my direction, with the incentive of partnership, you can turn this place into a real money-maker.”

  She gasped at his harsh words. He still thought the only thing she cared about was her job. He’d never forgive her for walking out on him, for choosing her career over him.

  “I...see,” she strangled out. “Well...I’m sure you’ll—” Her voice broke as a sob burst from her throat. Tears streamed down her cheeks. One hand flew up to cover her eyes and she turned blindly, found the door handle, and yanked it open.

  “Dammit!” Kyle crossed the floor with urgent strides and slammed the door shut. “Are you going to walk out on me again?”

  She shook her head, his face a blur through a sea of tears. “I don’t want to walk out on you, Kyle. But I can’t stand it when you look at me that way, as if...you hate me.”

  “Hate you? Don’t you know by now how much I love you?” Unfamiliar tears shone in his eyes. “I’ll always love you, Desiree. Good God, what more can I do to prove it to you?”

  She sobbed with relief as she threw her arms around him. “Oh, Kyle. I love you, too.”

  His arms instantly tightened around her as she went on:

  “I’ve been so stupid. Can I say now what I’ve been wanting to shout to the world all day? My career doesn’t mean anything to me if I can’t have you. Do you still want to marry me? Please say you do. Because I will. I tried to call you this morning in Seattle to tell you, and then at your hotel when—”

  “Say that again,” he demanded as his hands cradled the back of her head, tilting her face up to his. His eyes began to twinkle in a familiar way and her heart lurched with newfound hope.

  “I tried to call you—” she began distractedly.

  “No, no. The first part.”

  “I said…I love you. If you still want me, I’ll marry you.”

  “I accept.” Their eyes met, each asking the other for forgiveness and receiving it. Then his lips came down on hers in an impassioned kiss. She molded herself against him, returning his kiss with unrestrained fervor, trying to pour into him all the love she’d been saving, harboring, resisting.

  “Has it been as hard for you as it has been for me these past weeks?” he whispered.

  “Yes. I’ve never been so lonely, so miserable. When you sent the earrings…they’re beautiful, Kyle. I wanted to call, to thank you. But I couldn’t. I knew if I heard your voice again, I could never bring myself to say goodbye.”

  “I longed for you. I reached for you in the night, but you weren’t there. When you didn’t call after I sent the earrings, I gave up hope. I knew, then, you were lost to me forever. I thought I’d go out of my mind.” He shuddered and hugged her more tightly against him. “I bought the station not only to secure your job, but so I’d have an excuse to see you every now and then.”

  She lifted teasing eyes to his. “Rather drastic measures to take, don’t you think, Mr. Harrison? Thank goodness you don’t have any stockholders. What if the place doesn’t turn a profit?”

  His mouth tilted up in the lopsided grin she’d come to love so well. “Oh, it will. With you at the helm, I’m sure we’ll be the top rated stat
ion in Orange County in no time.”

  She hesitated. “Kyle. Wait. What you’ve done, it’s incredible—I don’t know what to say. But I can’t stay here. Not if you’re in Seattle.” He started to protest, but she raised a finger to his lips. “I love my work, but I love you more. I want to live where you are. I’ll move to Seattle, and if I don’t find a job or if the job doesn’t last, I don’t care. I’ll—”

  He cut off her words by covering her mouth with his. His kiss was long and sweet, communicating his love far more expressively than words. When he drew back, his eyes danced down at her. “You don’t have to move to Seattle, my darling.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ll be moving down here to be with you.”

  “What? How can you? That’s impossible. Harrison Industries is—”

  “Moving to Orange County,” he finished. “I own a radio station here, don’t I?” He lifted her hand to his lips and planted a warm kiss on her palm. “I could have looked into buying a station in Seattle, but I saw how important it was to you to stay in Southern California. So I took a good look at my own needs and interests. Hell, I’ve only got a suite of offices up there. I can operate anywhere, as long as I’m near an airport. It’ll take a few months to complete the move, and I’ll have to do a bit more traveling than before, but I’ll be here most of the time. My secretary’s not speaking to me, but—” He grinned. “At least my wife will be. On a daily basis.”

  She tried to assimilate the impact of his words. “But…your whole family is in Seattle. You’ve lived there all your life.”

  “High time for a change. And we’ll see my family on vacations, the same as yours.”

  “When did you decide all this?” she asked, dazed. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I didn’t contact Westler about the possibility until a week ago. By then, you were out of town and no one knew where to find you. He had another offer, so I was forced to make a quick decision. I went ahead, hoping you’d approve. Do you?”

  “Do I?” She hugged him, her heart so filled with joy she felt it might burst. “Do I ever!”