“Sharon? What’s going on? Cynthia left here late Saturday morning. I haven’t seen her since. Has something happened?” Kurt fired out the questions in rising panic.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Sharon’s voice came across with a distinctly frosty tone. “She’s a mess. We had a date this morning to go do brunch. She didn’t answer the door, but her car was in the driveway, so I let myself in. She was balled up on her bed. Won’t tell me what’s wrong. Won’t talk to me. But I’ve never seen her like this. Ever.”
“What the hell? Sharon, I don’t have a clue. I last saw her yesterday morning. She was fine. Happy.” More than fine, Kurt thought to himself. Waking up to her yesterday morning had been a joyful surprise. He’d barely been able to hold back from telling her how much he loved her. He knew without a doubt that he wanted to marry her. He’d never experienced anything like the night he had with her. Only his desire to make his proposal to her a memorable one had made him hesitate.
“You did something.” Sharon’s voice was flat. “Because as I left, she told me to keep you away from her.”
Kurt’s heart sank like a stone. “No!”
“So what did you do? Turn around and find another woman or something already, now that you’ve finally won her?”
“Another woman? Are you crazy?” Kurt’s panic had his voice rising in anger. “Why the hell would I screw up the best thing that ever happened to me? You want to know what I did? I’ll tell you what I did,” Kurt yelled into the phone. “I brought her here, to candlelight and flowers. I asked her permission and with it, made love to her. It was the best night of my life. I could barely hold back from telling her how much I love her, how I want to marry her, have babies with her, spend the rest of my life with her. The only reason I didn’t was because I want that moment to be something she’ll never forget. So I held off. That’s what I did to her. And if you have a problem with that, you can go to hell.”
“Kurt.”
Incensed, Kurt didn’t answer.
“Kurt,” Sharon repeated quietly. “I’m sorry. I believe you.”
Kurt raked a hand through his hair, and took a calming breath. “Thank you.”
“But you have a problem,” Sharon continued after a beat, “because she also said that you were welcome to the skinny bitch, which is what made me think she saw you with someone else.”
“Oh, shit.” Kurt slapped his hand against his forehead, when his neighbor’s odd comment suddenly came back to him. “She did.”
“What?” Sharon’s voice started rising.
“Not what you think. I just remembered something my neighbor said last night. You know, Holly, my cousin, right?”
“The same Holly that’s your assistant?”
“Yeah, long story, but basically she needed a shoulder to cry on last night, and since she’s like a sister to me, I listened, took her out to dinner. I figured Cynthia would understand, especially since we never made any plans. When my neighbor made this crack about how he wanted my life with one girl on the arm and another in the bushes. I didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“Oh no,” Sharon said. “I vaguely remember Cynthia saying something about going over to make you dinner last night.”
“Ah hell.” Kurt put his head back against the wall and shut his eyes. “Cynthia must have seen us together.”
“I take it she’s not met Holly?”
Kurt sighed. “No, dammit.”
“Ah Kurt.” Sharon’s sympathy came clearly across in her voice. “Holly is exactly the kind of woman that would make Cynthia feel insecure. She tall, thin, beautiful.”
“So she immediately jumps to a bad conclusion?” Kurt knew he sounded as defeated as he felt. “Doesn’t say a whole lot about what she thinks of me now does it?”
“She’s nuts about you,” Sharon said, “and doesn’t have the confidence she should. To her, opening up to you was a huge risk.”
“I get that, Sharon. And I have sympathy for her what she went through in the past, you know I do. But to be honest, there’s a point where she has to decide to have faith in me. I can’t live my life constantly worried about how something might appear. She either trusts me or she doesn’t.” Kurt’s voice broke with emotion.
“You want me to talk to her?”
“No, Sharon. I appreciate it and you know I love you for that. But this is between us.” Kurt rubbed at the scratchy stubble on his face. “Promise me you won’t interfere.”
Sharon took her time answering. Kurt heard a deep sigh. “Good luck then.”
I’m going to need it, Kurt thought a bit later as he listened to the sound of Cynthia’s phone ringing. When the answering machine picked up, he left a message. But somehow, he knew he wasn’t going to get a response.
Chapter 18
Two weeks later, after a much-needed escape from reality and her life, Cynthia came home to her condo to find thirty-five messages on her answering machine. Twenty-five of them were from Kurt. The first one he had apparently left soon after he’d kissed her goodbye after their fabulous night together. But she’d never been home that day, and later had been too upset to listen to any of her phone messages.
“Hi love,” his voice sounded deep, intimate. “Thank you for the best night of my life. I cannot wait to see you again. Call me.”
Just the sound of his voice had Cynthia drawing in a ragged breath. Over the last two weeks of soul-searching while hiding out in a cabin in Carmel, she thought she could weather being just another one of Kurt’s conquests. Thought she could brush it aside and try to be a friend for Sharon’s sake.
She was wrong.
In the second message, his voice sounded a little harried. “Cyn, something’s come up. I’ll explain later. See you tomorrow?” The last question sounded apologetic, hopeful.
Cynthia didn’t want to think about just what ‘came up.’ She almost stopped the playback right there, but after a moment decided to go through all the torture at once.
The third message was from Sharon. “Hi Cyn, call me. I need to talk to you.”
She had called Sharon from her hideaway, but never had let her ‘explain’ anything. This situation was something she was going to deal with on her own.
Most of the rest of the messages were from Kurt. For the others, she listened only to the first few words to determine if they were important and whether or not she needed to respond, before proceeding to the next message. At first, Kurt sounded tense. “Cynthia, I’d like to see you today. Could you call me back please?”
By the last one, he sounded defeated. “Cynthia. I’ve been to your place. I’ve been to your work. I’ve tried every phone number. I don’t want to accept that you don’t want to see me, but I’m going to have to leave it in your hands now. You know where to find me. Goodbye.”
Goodbye. He hadn’t said that in any of the previous messages. Cynthia sank to the couch, tears freely falling from her eyes. It sounded so final. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To be left alone? Hadn’t she decided she was better off without him?
So why did she feel so dreadful?
Pushing aside the thoughts, she picked up the handful of scribbled telephone messages from folks other than Kurt that she needed to return. With a determined step, she walked into the bedroom. She would go into Grandma’s, lose herself in work and catch up in the office.
An hour later, Cynthia caught the look of surprise when Sharon found her toiling away in the office.
“Oh, thank goodness, you’re back. I was afraid I’d have to do the books.” Sharon came behind the desk to give her a hug. “You okay?”
When she didn’t’ respond, Sharon gazed at her critically. “Did you eat at all during the time you were gone? You look like you’ve lost weight.”
Cynthia shrugged. “For the first time in my life, food didn’t appeal.”
Sharon stared at her for a moment. Her voice quiet, she said, “You need to talk to him.”
“I don’t think so.” Sharon was her
best friend. But on this topic, Cynthia was not going to waver. “Leave it alone, Sharon.”
“But—”
“I mean it Sharon.” Cynthia stared her down. “I can’t talk about this. Not now.” Maybe not ever, she thought to herself.
Sharon let out a sigh, brought both of her hands to her face and rubbed. She seemed to have an internal debate, then sighed again. She put up both hands. “Okay, okay. I think you’re both being stubborn and unreasonable. But it’s your life.”
“Yes, it is.” Cynthia kept her eyes on the spreadsheet. Only when she heard Sharon’s footsteps descending the stairs back to the sales floor did she let the tear roll down her face.
~ ~ ~
Exhaustion made Kurt cranky as he sat in the corporate conference room, listening to yet another manager tell him why he would likely end up over budget for the year.
The last few weeks had been hell. He’d tried everything he could think of to reach Cynthia. He’d even hung out on her street, feeling like a stalker, until the police had come by because a neighbor had called in his license plate number.
Luckily, the responding officer had been a buddy from his gym. Although he’d felt like an idiot explaining to the guy why he was parked on the same street for the third night in a row, and had endured the resulting ribbing with good grace, he knew that approach was no longer an option. Not that it had helped him locate her anyway.
He knew from what Sharon had let slip that Cynthia was back in town, and back to work at Grandma’s. But she hadn’t contacted him. Kurt had to accept that she wasn’t going to. And there was the part of him that still smarted over her lack of trust. He’d done everything he could to show her how much he cared. Now it was her turn. A man had his pride after all.
When a fourth manager pulled up a spreadsheet indicating red ink, Kurt slapped his hand down on the table, so hard the laptops near him bobbled.
“What the hell is wrong with you people? We’re running a company here, not a credit card agency. So far not a single one of you has remained within budget.”
Kurt noted the stunned faced around the room, but he couldn’t stop his tirade. “I don’t want to see another spreadsheet. Each of you has a task, and it trumps any other for the day. You’re to go back to your offices, scrub your numbers, and find a way to end the year within budget. I want options, tradeoffs, and suggestions. You all have until 5 p.m., and you will clear your calendars to meet again tonight. No exceptions. Is that understood?”
He slammed the table again. “This meeting is over!”
His top managers scurried out of the room, some of them looking over their shoulder as if they were afraid he might chase them down. If he weren’t so tired and upset, he would have laughed at the sight. As it was, he just felt like the jerk he knew he’d sounded like.
When the door finally closed, and he thought he was alone, he put his head down on the table, resting against his arms, and took a ragged breath.
“Quite a performance.” Blake’s quiet voice near his left shoulder had him lifting his head in a hurry.
The look on his brother’s face was one of pity, but the twitch at the side of Blake’s mouth told Kurt that his brother was also angry.
Kurt held up a hand. “I know. I was a jerk. I’m sorry.”
Blake considered him for a moment. “You had justification. I’ve thought for a while that you’ve been a little too lenient with everyone on budget.”
“Usually, we make it up in profit at the end of the year.”
“True.” Blake inclined his head. “But it’s also created a culture with associated expectations.”
Kurt nodded.
“You need to get your shit together, Dude.” Blake clasped his hands together on the desk. “If you need to take a break, take one. I’ll handle things here. But you can’t go on treating people like you’ve been the last few weeks.”
“Been that bad, have I?” Kurt rubbed his faced, hard.
“People have been coming to me, Kurt.” Blake toyed with his keys. “Your tirade last week against the operations manager, felt just short of being out of line. We’re going to have people quit if you keep this up. People we can’t afford to have quit right before we want to take the company public.”
Kurt hung his head, feeling sheepish. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the person you need to apologize to.” Blake pushed his chair back from the conference table. “Look, I think I know how you feel. I was in your shoes not too long ago with Sharon.”
“Yeah, and I’ve got the nose to prove it.” Kurt rubbed two fingers across the bump in his nose.
“If you want this woman, do something about it,” Blake continued as if Kurt hadn’t spoken. “And if not, then get her out of your system. I don’t care how. Just don’t bring your personal problems to work.”
“Easier to say than do, though isn’t it?” Kurt gave Blake a wry smile. “Or have you already forgotten what a mess you were?”
Blake sighed, compassion clear in the look on his face. “I don’t think I will ever forget the pain I felt when it seemed hopeless with Sharon. And you know I’d do anything to help you. But you’ve been pushing me and Sharon away now for weeks.”
“Did Sharon explain anything to you?”
Blake nodded. “I think you should have told Holly. You know she’d go over to Cynthia in a heartbeat, straighten her out.”
“Yeah, this time, Blake.” Kurt got up and paced the room. “But what happens the next time that Cynthia sees me with someone. And the next?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “You know what my life is like, how many people I come across on a daily basis, both male and female. I can’t live constantly on pins and needles worried about how a casual action might be perceived through Cynthia’s insecurity.”
His gaze pensive, Blake nodded. “See your point.”
“I mean, for God’s sake, she won’t even answer my phone calls. All because she apparently saw me with a woman!”
After a moment’s consideration Blake asked, “So what are you going to do?”
Kurt let out a sigh. “What I have been doing. Waiting for her to come to her senses.”
“How’s that been working for you?”
Kurt let out a harsh laugh, waved a hand at the door where his managers had exited. “Apparently not so well.”
Blake cleared his throat, and waited for more.
Kurt gave in to the silent question in Blake’s eyes. “So, I’m putting a plan together for the Bocher Foundation auction. I know she won’t miss that event. She’ll be forced to see me there.”
“Anything we can do?”
“There might be.” Kurt’s eyes took on a gleam. “I’m considering some ideas. Let you know?”
Blake nodded, got up, then slapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Any time, Dude. Any time.”
Chapter 19
About a month after the appreciation dinner, Cynthia opened her inbox to find an email from Patty. Her contribution to the foundation was free photography. And the foundation was sure lucky to have her, Cynthia thought, as she eagerly opened the attachment, hoping to find something she could use for the next foundation newsletter.
The pictures were stunning, as usual. Patty seemed to be able to capture moments of pure emotion on her subjects’ faces. Cynthia scrolled through the speaker and audience photographs, noting which ones would bring the most impact for the monthly newsletter. Patty had outdone herself again, Cynthia thought, as she took her time, carefully examining the angles and noting the photograph numbers. She hummed happily, until she came to the very end of the hundreds of samples.
Patty had taken photographs of Cynthia during her speech. It surprised Cynthia, even though it shouldn’t have. After all, she had been one of the speakers too. But in her effort to block out that weekend with Kurt, she somehow had included her speech as well.
In the sample album, Patty juxtaposed photographs of a very emotional Cynthia with the even more emotional crowd. One photograph ha
d Sharon and Blake looking at each other, Sharon’s face a picture of sorrow, Blake’s one of compassion and comfort. The emotion in faces of other people ranged from stunned disbelief, to pity, to sadness. A few appeared uncomfortable.
But it was the last few photos that had Cynthia catching her breath. Patty had captured a series of Kurt. In the first one, he leaned forward in his chair, his chin in his hands, attention rapt. In the second, he sat back, his face a picture of raw emotion, and his cheeks glinting with the tracks of tears. In the last photo, he appeared to be one of the first to stand, in what had become as Cynthia now remembered, a standing ovation. The tender expression on his face, and the knowing looks of the family members around him made one thing very apparent—this was a man smitten, and one who didn’t care who knew.
The sinking feeling in her gut became so strong, Cynthia felt physically ill. What had she done?
Her night with Kurt, blocked out for the last few weeks, came back to her in a rush. The way he’d looked at her, the words he’d spoken, the way he’d held her.
Had she been wrong about him? And if so, would it even matter anymore? She’d ignored every effort he’d made to contact her. Hadn’t even allowed him to explain. And why? Because of her own feeling of unworthiness?
Cynthia stared out the window, tears streaming down her cheeks. She thought about the last few months with him. How hard he’d tried to be a friend. How decent he’d been. How respectful he’d acted, and she felt a deep sorrow. Sorrow because it hit her that despite everything, despite her words to herself, even on their fateful night, she’d never really taken a risk with him, or even for him. Instead, she’d hidden behind her insecurities.
She watched a sparrow in the meadow below, flitting about, pecking here and there for food, and just narrowly escaping the clutches of a barn cat that jumped out of a bush and pounced without warning. The bird flew up to a tree, but moments later came back to the ground a ways away. It pulled up a worm, and flew up to the tree again, emerging just minutes later to peck again.
Loving Mr. July Page 12
