by Amanda Uhl
He walked to the door. Hesitated. Turned once again to face me. I hadn’t moved.
“You know what’s like a kick in the ass?” It was a rhetorical question. I didn’t answer. Instead, I watched him and waited, doing my best to keep my emotions under wraps. My lower lip trembled. I would not cry. Charlie and I were never going to have our happily ever after. I would never be his. He’d never be mine. That dream was shattered.
“You had no problem believing your ex-fiancé who screwed you over royally with your best friend. He tells you I’m a traitor, and you believe him. I say I’m innocent and…and you hand in your resignation and sign with the enemy.”
Charlie swiped a hand across his brow. “I never lied to you. I couldn’t tell you I had purchased Reynolds, as I wasn’t even sure myself that the deal would go through. Everything else I told you was the truth, including the part about me not sticking around forever. It’s not my dream to be a CEO of a paint company. Marketing’s more my thing. But I’d planned to stay here in Cleveland…for you.” Despite the intensity of his words, his tone remained even. “If you truly loved me, you would have trusted me. You wouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and taken the first job that came your way.”
I shook my head. I wanted to reach out and touch Charlie, make him understand. But he stood there, detached, alone. And I knew, if I did reach out to try to touch him, he’d reject me. And I didn’t think I could bear the pain.
“You…I thought you were different than the others. A girl who could look beyond the looks and money and see the real me. No one’s…no one ever does that.” He gestured as if I could peer into his soul—open, honest. He shook his head.
“Charlie, I don’t care about your money. I never did. And I can help you in this lawsuit. I overheard Seth admitting to selling secrets to Abbott. I can testify on your behalf.”
Charlie shook his head, his expression grim. “I don’t want you involved in the lawsuit. And I’m not worried. Larry and I have solid proof Seth has been selling secrets to Abbott.”
“You…you do?”
Charlie nodded. “We’ve been recording his conversations over many months. Larry thought at first it was all Calvin. But after he fired him, Abbott still seemed to know what we were doing. That’s when he asked me to join the firm. If my family was going to purchase the company, we needed to make sure it was a sound investment. I was suspicious of Julie at first, since as you know, they’d dated. But we soon figured out that Calvin had been assisting Seth as the front man. I’m sure Seth promised him a piece of the pie. Seth masterminded the whole thing, though. That’s why Larry had his stepson come back to Cleveland. He figured you were over the breakup, and we needed to keep an eye on him. Larry’s a good man. It’s breaking his heart to have to prosecute his own son.”
“God, Charlie, I’m…I’m so sorry.” Instinctively, I moved toward him.
He held up a hand, stopping me. For the first time since I’d known him, Charlie’s face became withdrawn and closed, shutting me out. I would no longer be his confidante when it came to Reynolds. I had signed with the enemy. “I can’t say more…lawsuit.”
Then he was at the door again, leaving. Leaving me. “Good-bye, Val.”
The tone of his voice had a formalness I didn’t like. Over the last six months, he’d teased and harassed me. He’d apologized and coerced me. He’d told me he admired me. He’d…he’d even said he loved me. But he’d never said good-bye like he was saying now.
He turned to throw me a final zinger, every inch the company president. “By the way, let’s pretend this thing with Abbott never happened. Effective today, I’m promoting you to the senior product manager position.”
I gasped. “Why…why would you do that?”
“Because,” he said, no trace of dimples on his unsmiling face, “I always keep my promises. Besides, we have a product to launch. And regardless of what’s happened here, you’re a damn good product manager. And I think you owe it to me and to Reynolds to help us get back on our feet and over this bump in the road.”
Chapter Thirty-one
The next two weeks leading up to the product launch were hell. It wasn’t that Charlie ignored me. He directed questions my way. Even asked how I was doing in the mornings. But it was the way he asked. Cold and impersonal. Like I was a janitor or the hired help responsible for shining his shoes or doing his laundry.
No more Mr. Charming. Whatever relationship we had was gone overnight. He treated me like he did all the others…cool, indifferent. Mostly. He was the president of a billion-dollar company and I…I was an employee he barely tolerated.
Still, I remembered all too well the feel of his lips on mine and the smell of Dark Water, which lingered in his wake whenever he passed by my cube on the way to Julie’s office.
The first week I thought about turning in my notice regardless of what Charlie felt I owed him. I was no one’s punching bag. But, I had bills to pay. It wasn’t like I could go crawling back to Abbott; I’d heard through a friend of a friend that they’d filled their opening the day after I rejected the job.
I was through running, I decided. I’d stick it out at Reynolds at least until I could find another job. The position paid well—ten percent more than I’d been making. Seth was no longer in the office. I was now in charge of the main line. And although I was back to reporting to Julie, I loved my job. An opportunity like this didn’t happen every day. And maybe, deep down inside where I kept it tightly leashed, a small ray of hope glimmered in the darkness. Hope that Charlie would come to his senses and accept my apology, and we’d resume our relationship, if that’s what you’d call it.
Julie and I were in Charlie’s office. We’d been there since eight in the morning, going over the numbers for the fiftieth time in preparation for the big product launch on Friday. I checked my phone. Nearly noon. George had asked me to meet him for lunch. It was the first time I’d talked to him since our nasty breakup, and I was anxious to make amends.
“You have lunch plans today?” Charlie spoke, jolting me back to my surroundings.
Was he asking me? Dummy. Of course not. Julie was answering. She batted her long lashes and said, “No, I don’t.”
I looked down at my lap. There were fourteen black squares on the front of my skirt and fifteen pink ones. Strange how the number wasn’t even. I smoothed my fingers across the material. That’s because the material was uneven in the front. I wasn’t seeing the complete picture. That’s the way life was sometimes. I was so busy looking at the details, I missed the important parts. Like now. Why wasn’t anyone talking? Why the sudden silence?
“Really, Valerie,” Julie said with a sly grin. “Daydreaming are you?”
What had I missed? “I thought I spilled some coffee…on my skirt.”
Charlie stared at me. Was it my imagination or was the man about to crack a smile? Maybe not. Julie shook her head, tone exasperated. “Charlie asked you if you had lunch plans.”
“Oh. Uh…yes, yes I do.”
Charlie set down the pen he’d been writing with. “What do you think of the new signage? Have you seen it in your local store?”
I nodded. More direct questions. A chip in his icy facade. “Of course.”
“And do you like them?”
I tried to stop the surprise from showing on my face. We were having a conversation that went beyond hello and good-bye. Was I dreaming? I clenched my fist and dug my nails into my palms.
“Of course she likes them. Who wouldn’t?” Julie asked. “The new paint colors are amazing. You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Val helped pick them out,” Charlie said. “It was her idea to name the line after different types of rocks, too.”
Oh my God! He referenced our New York trip…where we’d made out on the deck of the family’s island cottage. Major fissure. A long way from another make-out session, but the first sign of progress in a week.
“I’m sure you had a hand in the naming. You’re far too modest,” Julie said, turning
to me. “Valerie, we are so fortunate to be learning from the best. Which reminds me, have you finished your ROI calculations? I’d like that information before five.”
I cleared my clogged throat. “No, not yet. I’m sorry.” I was doing a lot of apologizing lately. I hated that. “I’ll have it on your desk by end of day.”
“Good. Okay, then. It’s noon. Run along to lunch.”
I was being dismissed. Thank God. Time to make amends with George.
“Val, can you hold on a second?” Charlie asked coolly. “Jules, would you please excuse us. Shut the door behind you.”
Julie shot me daggers and looked like she would argue, but what was there to say? The president of the company wanted to talk to me. “Certainly,” she said, brushing by my shoulder on her way out the door.
I was alone with Charlie. He picked up his pen and twirled it between his fingers. “How serious are your plans?”
“Excuse me?”
Click-click. Charlie had replaced twirling with clicking. “For lunch.”
“Um…pretty serious.”
“Bernie?”
“No.”
Click-click. “Who then?”
I should lie. Say my mother, father, anyone but…”George,” I heard myself say.
Charlie stopped clicking. “I thought you’d broken up with him? Now you’re lunch buddies?”
A surge of emotion, raw and intense, rushed through my system, catching me off-guard. Charlie had barely talked to me the last couple weeks and now he had the audacity to…to criticize me for having lunch with George? “Sorry, but I don’t believe it’s any of your business who I date or go to lunch with. Was there anything else?” If he wanted an answer, he was going to have to do better. I crossed my hands over my chest.
Click. Charlie tossed his pen and stood, wiping one hand across his forehead and landing on the back of his neck, where he rubbed it back and forth. The effect was hypnotizing. He took two steps toward me. Dropped his hands. “Val…I…” He sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s none of my business. But I…despite everything, I do care about you. Please tell me you’re not thinking of getting back together with George?”
“Of course not. Why would you even think that?”
“Because I know you. You’re scared. George is safe, esay. It would be too easy to run back into his arms. But George isn’t right for you. Can’t you see that?”
Could the man not understand I was crazy for him? That I couldn’t eat, drink, work, or sleep without thinking of him? That worse than his anger was the indifference he’d shown me over the last two weeks? That the fact he was finally talking to me, albeit to lecture me about George, was causing the blood to pump furiously through my veins, signaling I was alive?
Charlie was right. George wasn’t right for me. Only one man would ever be right for me. But that man was too pig-headed to give me a second chance.
“The only thing I see,” I said, drawing myself up to my sum total of five foot five inches and wishing desperately I’d worn heels so I didn’t have to strain my neck looking up at him, “is this is no longer any of your concern. It’s past noon, and I’m late. Excuse me.”
I didn’t stick around to hear Charlie’s reply. I’m not certain there was one.
Chapter Thirty-two
How could four weeks produce such a dramatic change in George? I studied him across the table of an old Lebanese restaurant in the Flats owned by one of his many cousins. His hair was longer than I remembered and shaggy. Face thinner, eyes hard. And where were his glasses? Gone was my puppy dog. New George looked more like a…a Doberman Pinscher.
“Thanks for meeting me. I’ve been concerned about you,” he said. New George didn’t waste any time coming straight to the point.
“I appreciate that, George. I’m okay, though.” I studied my hands. My nails looked remarkably good considering how little attention I paid them. “How about you?”
“Fine,” he said, almost impatiently. “It’s you I’m worried about. I’ve heard the news about Reynolds. Your boyfriend’s landed himself in hot water.”
“C’mon, George. He’s not my boyfriend. And he did nothing wrong!” My left eye twitched.
“That’s not what the papers say. They say he could go to prison for ten years. Not to mention he has to pay Reynolds $500,000 in damages.”
“Wait…who are we talking about?”
“Seth Reynolds. Who else? Why didn’t you tell me you used to be engaged? I had to find out from Elias, who learned from Zoey…or is it Chloe? I get those two girls confused.” George shook his head. “Anyway, the Solanger family is suing him for selling trade secrets. How come you don’t know this already? Don’t you read the newspapers? It’s been all over the local news.”
Ouch. Doberman Pinscher he was. “Sorry. I did know it. It’s just things have been pretty intense at work right now. I haven’t wanted to dwell on all that. We’re launching a new product on Friday. And I’m not exactly on friendly terms with the company president. He asked me to stay out of it.”
“You mean Charlie? Why wouldn’t you get along? He seemed to like you well enough.” George brought his water glass to his lips, tipped back his head, and drained it dry. He set the glass down with a clink. “Good ol’ Charlie is now the company president. Boy, he had a few surprises up his sleeve, didn’t he?” He shook his head. “Can you believe all the time we were hanging out with the billionaire who owned the company?”
“Yeah that was…quite a surprise.” I sipped my apple cinnamon tea. More apple than cinnamon but not bad. Across from me, George took a large bite of his roasted chicken and lentils, chewed, swallowed, and set down his fork.
“Hmfph. Not enough zataar.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “He was a nice guy, though, Charlie. I mean you’d never know he was a billionaire. Had some great business ideas and friendly enough to share them. Do you know he hooked me up with a buddy of his who’s a news reporter? The Plain Dealer’s doing a whole spread to coincide with opening day.”
“Wow…I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, well that’s the kind of guy he is. Nice…charming. I like him.”
God, even George trusted Charlie. How had I ever believed him capable of such deception? I held a finger on my right eyelid. The twitch in my left had moved to my right. Time for a subject change. “So…have you talked to Bernie?”
“Yeah…I guess…not for long. But that’s sorta what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“You do? About Bernie?” I’m pretty sure my mouth popped open in amazement.
George strained his neck, turning his head to look behind him. “Yeah, but not so loud, would ya? You never know who might be listening.”
I looked around. An older gentleman sat in a corner staring out the window. Behind us, two teenagers were bent over their cell phones. “George, no one is listening. Your mother isn’t here. And anyone else who knows the two of you would be excited to think of you together.”
“I’ve moved out.”
“You what?” I had grabbed my tea, almost knocking it over. I set it down.
“I’ve got my own place. Left my parents’ house. It was time.”
I studied George again. How much weight had he lost? Had my leaving caused this transformation? “Is everything okay at home?”
“Yes… No… I don’t know. I screwed up, Val.”
I placed my hand on his. “Aww, George, you didn’t make any mistakes. You did everything right. It wasn’t you, it was me. You and I…together…we wouldn’t have worked.”
George pulled his hand from mine. “I’m not talking about us. I meant with Bernie. I shoulda listened to you about her.” George sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I was furious though when you first broke up with me…felt like I’d been screwed over. Let my pride get in the way from admitting the truth. You were right.”
He picked up his fork and used it to move his food around his plate.
“Oh, George,” I said, relief stretching my insides
like a giant water balloon. “Bernie is crazy about you. You know that. All you have to do is call her up, and she’s as good as yours. I promise.”
George dropped his fork. “When’s the last time you’ve talked with Bernie?”
“Whaddaya mean? I talk to her every day.”
“No, I mean talked to her about me. What has she told you?”
When had I last talked to Bernie about George? I struggled to remember, embarrassed. George clenched his fists on the table, waiting. “It’s been a few weeks. But last time I did, she hadn’t lost interest.”
George leaned toward me. “Are you sure? What did she say?”
I thought back to our conversation in Reynolds’s cafeteria. “Well, she said she accidentally-on-purpose ran into you at the West Side Market. Doesn’t sound like someone who’s not interested, does it?”
George spread his hands across his forehead, groaning. “God, what a mess I’ve made of things.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? All you have to do is call her.”
“She’s seeing someone, Val.”
“What? Who?” I dropped my spoon, a loud clatter on the hard tiled floor. George bent to pick it up. Handed it to me.
“How should I know? I thought you might know who. You’re her best friend.” He stared at me accusingly.
“George.” I sputtered. “Bernie hasn’t talked about anyone. I didn’t know she was seeing someone. Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I saw them together at the Q Hall last night.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Half of Reynolds goes to the Q Hall.”
“Half of Reynolds doesn’t have their hands all over Bernie.”
I stared at George, mouth open. What kind of friend was I? Bernie hadn’t mentioned another man. Come to think of it, Bernie hadn’t mentioned George either. And I hadn’t asked. I’d been too consumed by my own problems. “Did you at least try to talk to her?” Guilt gnawed at my insides, causing my tone to be sharper than I intended. “Maybe it’s not serious.”
“I tried, but she wouldn’t listen. Says I’m on the rebound. Says my mother hates her. I mean it’s true Ma has never been fond of Bernie. But she doesn’t hate her.” George scratched the whiskers on his chin. “At least, I don’t think she does.”
