BookBrewerLucyKevinSPARKSFLYApril252011

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BookBrewerLucyKevinSPARKSFLYApril252011 Page 9

by Lucy Kevin


  Including how to get over a broken heart, particularly when she was instrumental in breaking it herself.

  By noon Angelina was utterly exhausted from packing and thinking and worrying. She had just plopped down on the couch in her living room to take a five minute nap when Krista came barreling through her front door already mid-sentence.

  “...heading out for my lunch break and I thought I’d drop by to see if you wanted anything to....Ang, you look terrible.”

  Angelina nodded sleepily in agreement. “I’m just so darn tired,” she said, yawning halfway through her sentence. “But I still have so much packing to do.”

  “Nonsense. I’m hiring you a packing company.” Angelina started to protest, so Krista said,

  “It’ll be my going away present to you, even though you know I don’t want you to go away.”

  Angelina kicked her feet up on the ottoman in front of her and closed her eyes. She was just about dozing off by the time Krista completed her call. Her best friend shook her awake.

  “The movers will be here ASAP. Take the keys to my apartment and go get some sleep. I’ll tell them what to do.”

  Angelina felt tears spring up in her eyes. She gave Krista a fierce hug. “You’re the best.”

  Krista returned her hug, saying affectionately, “You pregnant women are all so emotional.”

  “Don’t remind me.” She took Krista’s keys and shoved them in her pocket. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking care of this for me?”

  Krista, who had already made herself perfectly comfortable on the couch, waved her out the door. “Go already. Who knows, maybe one of the moving boys will be a cutie.”

  “What about Derek?”

  Krista waved her hand in the air. “His company party isn’t until next month. And besides, just because I said I’d go out with him, doesn’t mean I’ve got a chastity belt on until then.”

  Angelina laughed and groaned at the same time. “Thanks Kris.”

  “I know you’d do the same for me.”

  Angelina nodded and walked out the front door. It was true. If Krista ever got in a predicament like the one she herself was in, she would help her best friend in any way she could.

  Who was the one leading a seemingly blemish-less life now?

  Angelina admitted regretfully that while Krista’s life was outwardly wild and reckless, at least she had more sense than to lose her heart to a completely unavailable man and get pregnant all at the same time.

  * * *

  Angelina slept like the dead in Krista’s apartment. By the time she returned to her house it was empty except for a suitcase in the foyer with an envelope on it.

  Angelina walked through the rooms in disbelief. “How could anyone have possibly packed up my house so quickly?” Her words reverberated off of the bare wood floors and empty stucco walls.

  She went back into the foyer and opened up the envelope.

  “What the heck?” A first class ticket to New York fell out and onto the floor. She picked it up.

  She was booked on a direct flight to Albany from San Francisco, leaving at 8pm.

  Unfolding the note, she read Krista’s flowing handwriting.

  Ang,

  In case you were wondering, the movers were all cute and I promised that if they got you packed up on the double, I would take them out for a drink. Looks like my little scheme did the trick.

  (Although I hope they’re at least 21...and did I mention how cute they are?) I know you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, so I booked you a ticket to New York for tonight. No moving gift is complete without first class. The realtor is expecting you at 8 am tomorrow with the key to your new house. You know I’m no good at goodbyes so I arranged an airport limo to come and get you.

  Whatever you need, call me. And keep the sheets clean on your guest bed. You never know when I’ll be at your door.

  Love, Kris

  Angelina leaned heavily against the inside of the front door and held Krista’s letter to her chest.

  She wondered what she had ever done to deserve such an amazing friend. Someday she hoped she could repay her for all of the support she had given her during this impossible time.

  The airport limo honked from the driveway. Turning to look one last time at what had been a wonderful home, she picked up her suitcase, opened the front door, and walked out towards the limo without a backwards glance.

  * * *

  Angelina was staring blankly ahead in the waiting area for Gate 15 at SFO when a young couple sat down next to her with their baby. She watched them kiss and cuddle their child and something inside her tore apart. When the mother passed the sweet baby girl to the father, and Angelina saw the look of utter delight on his face as he cooed nonsense words to his daughter, Angelina jumped up out of her seat and ran to the nearest pay phone.

  She called Will's house and cell, but wasn't surprised when he didn't pick up. He'd told her in his message that he was going to be on lock-down at his company. She dialed the number for PTI. An operator picked up. “PTI Headquarters. How may I direct your call?”

  Angelina caught her breath. “I need to speak to Will Scott, please.”

  The operator sent Angelina’s call through. “Will Scott’s desk.”

  “This is Angelina Morgan and I need to speak to Will Scott immediately.”

  “I’m afraid that isn't possible. Mr. Scott is in a meeting right now.”

  “Please,” Angelina begged as the flight attendants boarded her airplane. “I need to speak with him right away.”

  “I will direct you to his voice mail–”

  “If you would only tell him he has a urgent phone call from Angelina I know he’ll come and–”

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am. Mr. Scott is in closed session with the board. You will have to call back later.”

  Tears bubbled up again in her eyes as she put down the phone. Ignoring the looks from nearby passengers, she hastily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and boarded the plane.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  In the past seventy-two hours, Will hadn’t slept, shaved, or eaten more than a fistful of pretzels.

  It might have been delirium kicking in, but for the first time in his career, he couldn’t see how any of the crap he was going through to keep control of his company was worth this kind of stress.

  More than one person that he had considered a friend had turned on him. Apart from Jerry, there was no one he could trust. Not one of them had proven that they would stick by him when the chips were down, nor trust him to make the best decision for their employees and stockholders.

  During the past ten years he had looked forward to what every new day at the helm of his company would bring. But today, everything was different.

  No, it wasn’t just today, he admitted. Over the past couple of years, as PTI had become bigger and bigger, he rarely – if ever – had a chance to touch the electronics. Instead, he was always in boardrooms like this one.

  Right now he didn’t care about corporate profits. He just wanted to hold Angelina close to him again, laugh with her. He wanted her to remind him, in her straightforward, yet captivating way, just how much more there was to life than running a company.

  But more than anything, he wanted to tell Angelina how much he loved her.

  Will heard one of the lawyers bark out his name. Blinking up at the group of men and women, he felt as if he was seeing them all for the first time. They looked like a bunch of hostages sitting, pacing, and even slumped against the floor of the artificially lit boardroom. In that moment, something inside of him clicked into place.

  Standing, a wry smile on his face, he said, “Gentlemen, ladies, this meeting is now adjourned. I will let you know when I make my decision as to the next step in resolving this conflict.”

  He confidently strode out of the room, a new spring in his step, deaf to not only the cries of outrage from many of the room’s occupants, but also the “Hallelujah’s” from the older board members who were bare
ly holding on from lack of rest, food, and fresh air.

  Will quickly debated whether or not to go home and shower before heading to Angelina’s house to surprise her, and opted for a quick shower and shave. “Better not go in there smelling like a garbage dump.” He laughed aloud as he slid into his car and started the ignition.

  For the first time since he'd left Angelina at the airport, Will felt alive. He rolled the top down and turned on the radio to his favorite classic rock station . Quickly covering the short distance from his office to his house, he left his car in the driveway and dashed through his front door, stripping off his clothes on the way to the best shower of his entire life.

  After drying himself off with a plush towel, he decided his wisest plan of action was to catch a couple of hours of sleep. After all, he thought to himself, as he slipped between his sheets, Angelina would probably much prefer a coherent declaration of love and proposal, rather than the slightly delirious, sleep-deprived one he was sure to deliver in his present state.

  Will’s heart sure and steady, he slept soundly for several hours. Upon waking, he felt better than ever and got ready to go. He dressed quickly and drove the short distance to the mall, heading straight for Tiffany’s. Nodding in greeting to the many salespeople on the floor who said, “Welcome, Mr. Scott,” as he passed by their display cases, he crossed the store and proceeded straight to the back room, which was reserved for regular customers.

  Jim, the head salesperson, said “Mr. Scott, it is my pleasure to see you back in the store again.”

  “Likewise, Jim,” Will replied, a ready smile on his lips. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice in a confidential manner. “I was hoping you could help me with something very important.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “I need you to find me the most exquisite engagement ring you have on the premises.”

  Jim inclined his head in understanding and prepared to bring back a selection of rings for Will to choose from.

  “Oh, and Jim? Could you make sure it has something red in it?”

  With a smile and a nod, Jim disappeared into the profusion of jewels that Tiffany’s offered, leaving Will temporarily alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t wait for the moment when Angelina became his.

  He already knew just what he wanted: A short engagement, a long honeymoon, and a family of little girls with Angelina’s good looks and quick mind.

  * * *

  Flying first class for the second time in her life, all Angelina did was sleep. “What a waste this would have been if I’d actually paid for it,” she whispered to herself after she was woken up by the pilot broadcasting their impending landing.

  An efficient flight attendant must have seen her lips move. “Ms. Morgan, would you like some juice or coffee?”

  Angelina mustered up a smile. “I would love a glass of orange juice,” she said with a dry tongue, and reconsidered the perks to flying first class, knowing full well that the customers behind the thick blue curtain were not having their every whim catered to.

  As she took a fortifying gulp of her orange juice, she thought about her new life in a cottage on Wishing Lake. Or, rather, she thought about Will.

  And how much she already missed him.

  She put her glass down with a shaky hand and the flight attendant gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. “All of us have a bad day every now and then, honey. Don’t beat yourself up over it.

  Everything is going to be all right.”

  Angelina blinked back the tears that sprang into her eyes from such a heartfelt expression of empathy from a total stranger. Leaning back against the soft leather seats, she tried to make believe that everything actually was, in fact, going to be all right.

  * * *

  Will drove straight from the jewelry store to Angelina’s house. He wasn’t going to let one more thing get between him and the woman he was meant to be with for the rest of his life.

  He pulled up to the curb in front of her house and noted that her red VW Bug was not parked on the driveway. “Probably parked in the garage,” he said cheerfully to himself.

  Tapping his right pocket with the palm of his hand to make sure the engagement ring was still there, he walked confidently up the front path and rang the doorbell. When Angelina didn’t answer, he tried the doorknob to see if she had left it unlocked by accident.

  It twisted easily in his hands and he started to walk inside with a huge smile on his face, looking forward to surprising Angelina with his unexpected presence.

  He stepped into a completely empty house, unable to believe his eyes.

  She was gone.

  * * *

  Will spent the night with a bottle of Jack Daniels, and woke up on his living room floor with a pounding head and a mouth that tasted like old socks. When the doorbell rang he didn’t even realize it was the doorbell. Instead it sounded like one hundred cannons all firing in his head.

  He rolled over into a sitting position, not quite sure what had happened. As he heard a key turn in the lock, he suddenly remembered everything and wished the bottle of whiskey weren’t empty. He badly needed another drink.

  The sound of high heels clicking on the wood floor was as painful as someone playing the drums right next to his head. He looked up bleary eyed. His ex-wife was standing with her hands on her hips, looking down at him.

  “What happened to you?” she said in a strangely un-perky voice.

  “Not so loud. You’re killing me with that racket.”

  “How about this?” she said, as she picked up a large hardcover book from the coffee table and threw it down onto the floor.

  Will covered his ears with his hands a millisecond too late. “This is what death must feel like,”

  he groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hoping that when he opened them his nightmare would have ended.

  “Not even close,” his ex wife said smoothly, as she neatly slid onto the couch and crossed her legs.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I have spent the past twenty-four hours fielding angry phone calls from the wives of your board members who are worried that they aren’t going to be able to make the payments on their vacation homes anymore.”

  “Oh,” Will said, his voice flat.

  “Do you mind telling me why you walked out of the most important meeting of your career? I swear,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I had no idea what to tell these women. You’ve always been so incredibly responsible.”

  Will was trying to figure out what the hell he should say, when she spotted the engagement ring lying on the carpet next to the fireplace.

  Susan picked up the ring and examined it with a knowledgeable eye. “Wow. What an incredible ring.”

  Will stared blankly at it.

  Susan plopped herself in an uncharacteristically sloppy heap next to him on the carpet. “You bought this for Angelina, didn’t you?”

  Will snapped out of his drunken stupor in an instant. “How could you possibly have guessed that?”

  “I would have had to be completely blind, deaf, and dumb to have missed the sparks flying between you and Angelina that night at the restaurant. You probably realized pretty quickly that I sent her to work with you because I wanted to try and get back together. But once I saw the kind of chemistry the two of you had, I knew I needed to give you up for good. You never once looked at me the way you were devouring her.”

  “Susan, I need to apologize to you for being such a jerk for so long,” he began awkwardly. “I can’t believe I never took the time to find out who you really are on the inside. I was so selfish, from the start.”

  Susan’s eyes glistened slightly. “We tried our best to make things work, but we were never right for each other, were we?”

  Seeming to catch herself before she got all mushy on him, she cleared her throat and held up the ring. “So, now that we’ve got all of that cleared up, why don’t you tell me why this ring was lying within chucking distance?” When he didn’t answer righ
t away, she added, “I know I wasn’t much of a wife, but I hope I can be your friend.”

  Will felt tears well up in his eyes, but he couldn’t chalk it up to being drunk. For all he'd drunk the night before, he was now stone cold sober. He reached out for Susan’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Thanks, Suze.”

  His ex gave him a small smile and waited patiently for him to talk.

  “Angelina doesn’t love me,” he said, feeling like a pathetic, wet, shivering dog. “I thought she did, but she doesn’t.”

  “What could she have done to make you believe that?”

  “I left those stupid negotiations to go and propose to her, and when I got to her house it was empty. She left me.”

  He had opened himself up to Angelina, and she had left with his heart and given no forwarding address.

  “Like your father?” Susan asked softly.

  His head whipped up. “Excuse me?”

  “Will,” Susan began, “you’ve been living your whole life with a wall around your heart because of what your father did to you when he left. You’ve been carrying around this misguided sense of responsibility for so long that you haven’t even noticed how it’s wrecked your life.”

  Before Will could say one single thing in his defense, Susan hammered him with, “Has it even occurred to you for one single second that there may be another reason why Angelina left that has nothing to do with her not loving you?”

  When he didn’t say anything, she said sternly, “Maybe you should stop wallowing in your own self-pity long enough to give it some thought.”

  “Don’t bother mincing words. It’s just my entire life we’re talking about here.”

  “I know that. And that’s why I’m trying to help you get things straight.” She stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of her linen slacks. “You know what you need to do now, don’t you?”

  “Find Angelina.”

  “And?” Susan prompted.

 

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