by Leila Adams
And for that, I felt an indelible black mark now tainted my soul.
Once the last flames died and the ashes cooled, I swept the dust into a garbage bag and threw it in the trash downstairs in the garage. I called Yellow Cab and sent Ethan a carefully worded text:
I just signed off on the job we discussed. Did you get the repair done on your house?
He would understand my veiled message. Within a minute he replied:
Good. Yes, the plumber fixed the leaks.
That was code for—the gangbangers were out of surgery and had survived. I was relieved.
***
I made it back to the hotel a few minutes before 10:00. When I walked into my room, I threw my coat over the back of a chair and pulled out my cell. The screen showed five messages. "Damn," I whispered. That was a problem. They must have come in while I was at the house. I checked the incoming log; every missed call was from Benjamin. Not good. I hit the speed dial.
"Olivia, are you okay?" he answered the phone. I wasn't sure if I heard concern or anger in his voice, maybe a little of both.
"Hey, Ben," I sighed. "I'm fine."
"Where are you? I've been calling all morning. I didn't expect you to be gone when I woke up. There was a gang killing this morning on Market Street. I was worried about you when you didn't answer."
"I'm sorry. My cell battery died, and I didn't realize it. I just plugged it in now and saw you called. I didn't have the anything on so I didn't catch the news. If I had realized there was trouble I would've called. I didn't mean to worry you. The office sent me an email late last night asking for a signature on some papers before I left. I thought I'd take care of things before you woke up. That way we'd have the whole day to ourselves. Sorry. Things took longer than I expected." That was an understatement.
"Actually, my office emailed me, too. I've been working out of my room all morning. My secretary said a client here in San Francisco was asking for an unscheduled appointment. I was on my way out to meet him. I should be back by noon. You around for lunch?"
"Of course, that sounds great. I was in such a rush this morning I haven't even showered. Lunch will be my treat; I know a special place just around the corner."
"After lunch, we can head over to Oakland to check on the granite if you want."
"Definitely."
"And Olivia...last night was great. I'm looking forward to picking up where we left off," Benjamin said changing the subject.
"My thoughts exactly. I enjoyed it, too." Unfortunately, I would have to stall as long as I could to allow the bruises to fade.
"How about we shoot for noon?"
"Sounds good. I'll be waiting."
"See you in a while," he said and hung up.
Finally, I had a moment to myself. As I began to relax fatigue set in and I realized I wasn't feeling well. My body was under stress; my flesh had turned cold and pale. It was two hours before lunch. Sleep was a necessity to heal. I made myself another cocktail and lay down in the bed.
Exhausted, I slipped away into nothingness
Chapter 8
TWO HOURS LATER we were showered and on our way to the Ferry Building across the street from the hotel. An arts and crafts bazaar was set up outside the Hyatt, with all manner of clothing, decorations, and accessories floating in the breeze. We wound our way through the tourists and shoppers, between the street venders and their tents, dodged the skateboarders and their gravity-defying feats, with the distant sounds of Christmas music playing over the ice rink.
We entered the doors to the Marketplace, and I steered Benjamin toward the Caviar Cafe. "They have excellent caviar here," I said as we sat down at the intimate counter. A young man came over and asked if we had been there before. He gave us the menus, made a few recommendations, and left us to decide.
Benjamin picked up the laminated card. I scanned the options, though it was a moot point, and looked up to see if he was done. His eyes were fixed on the page as if he was deep in thought. Something was wrong. His neck and shoulders were tense, and he tapped a fingernail rhythmically on the counter. After a few anxious minutes of silence, Benjamin put the menu down and looked at me. "Listen, Olivia; we need to talk," he said.
Before I could respond, the waiter returned. After a quick discussion, Benjamin asked for the American Sampler and a flight of champagne. I waited patiently during the exchange, worry knotting my stomach.
"What's wrong, Benjamin?" I asked when the server left.
"We've been skirting some issues and need to make some decisions. I'm really irritated with you for leaving me last night."
I braced myself for what was coming. "I didn't leave last night. I left early this morning," I said softly.
"What's the difference? The fact is—you weren't there when I woke up. You left a note but no explanation. You just disappeared." His hands rose in exasperation; his brows pinched. "It's happened before, and I don't like it. When I woke up this morning, I thought you’d be there. But you weren’t. It was like waking up any other morning in Washington. It's frustrating.
"We've talked about moving in together. I realize we both have demanding careers on opposite sides of the country, but we need to figure out where we’re going in this relationship. This thing between you and me,” he flicked a finger, “is more than just sex. Don't get me wrong; the sex is great, but if that’s all I was interested in I didn’t need to fly all the way to San Francisco. I want you in my life, Olivia. I know things are complicated. We both have responsibilities. I know all the excuses; I've heard them before. I have a grandkid and another on the way, and you have your business ties to the city. But I'm in love with you, and I want more. I'm not interested in seeing anyone else. Are we ever going to move forward?”
What did he expect? Did he think I could drop everything and move to Washington? I froze for a moment, not sure how to respond.
Benjamin stared at me, waiting for an answer.
"I...I don't know what to say."
The wrong words came out of my mouth, and I couldn’t take them back. Benjamin had just told me he loved me and wanted to take our relationship to the next level, and I'd not returned his words, nor given him any reassurance. Instead, I’d mumbled my uncertainty. Great.
He shot me an unhappy look and shook his head.
I sighed. "That's not what I meant. What I meant to say is—I don't know where to begin. You know how much I love you, how committed I am to you." I phrased my words carefully. I didn't say I was ready to make a commitment. I hoped he heard the word "committed," and didn't catch the diversion. "You're the only man in my life. But can we talk about this after the holidays? This isn't something we can work out right now. For one of us to move, it means relocating our business. I'm in the middle of several projects, as you know. I need to see them through. I don't think you can walk away from your work without making arrangements either. It's going to take some time to look into the feasibility of changing business locations." I wanted him to understand it wasn't a given that I would make the change, if, in fact, either of us did.
The topic had come up before. There was so much he didn’t know about me, so many secrets that could never be told. The truth was, I had no idea how we were going to solve this problem. I loved him and wanted us to be together, but I could never tell him the truth.
With no answers, I tried to lighten the mood by distracting him. "We only have a few more hours together. Let's enjoy the time and talk about it when things settle down after the holidays." Placing my palm on the inside of his thigh, I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Maybe I can find a way to make it up to you." Slowly my hand inched up the inside of his leg. I could tell he was still annoyed when he didn’t respond. I realized it would probably take something wildly inappropriate to distract him.
Benjamin just sat there with his head cocked to the side, looking at me. "Alright, but understand, I'm not going to back-burner this for long. We need to work this out."
"I'm sorry I left this morning without waking
you."
The waiter appeared holding a large ceramic plate with five selections of California Osetra positioned like numbers on a clock around the edges. I picked up a small mother of pearl demo-spoon and sampled the fare. The caviar melted like butter in my mouth. It wasn't my favorite taste, but I could keep it down in small doses.
"Would you like to do some Christmas shopping while we're here?" I asked, changing the subject. From my purse, I pulled out a brochure of the merchants in the building and handed it to him. "You could pick up some presents to take back to your family."
"Sure, whatever. But don't think I don't realize you're avoiding the issue," he said, eying me coolly before a small curl tugged the corner of his lip.
Caught in the act, I sighed.
"Though I rather enjoy your efforts," he said with a small nod of his head. "You're as transparent as a window, Olivia. I know you better than you've ever given me credit. And I recognize your apprehension, but we have to resolve this."
"I understand Benjamin. I just don't see how we can solve the problem today. We'll talk about it after Christmas, I promise." Although clearly unsatisfied, he reluctantly let the matter drop.
***
Traffic out of San Francisco to Oakland was heavy. Coming off the Bay Bridge, along the Oakland Harbor, a herd of mechanical beasts, ship-to-shore cranes, waited hungrily to divest ocean carriers of their wares. Grey highway, railroad tracks, and asphalt covered the earth like a plague, without so much as a single patch of greenery to breathe life into the desolation. Everything was hard edges and right angles, cold metal and concrete. A plethora of steel boxes, sealed tight, without windows or air, crowded together in orderly rows.
We pulled up in front of a long, narrow warehouse surrounded by cargo bays where overseas containers were transloaded. Getting out of the car, a short man wearing a sports jacket and Dockers, carrying a brown leather briefcase that had lost all semblance of shape, headed toward Benjamin and me. Randy Murdock, the Customs broker, had agreed to accompany us into the bonded area of the warehouse for inspection. At the door, he produced the necessary papers for security and ushered us into the cavernous, modern facility. Pulling a thick folder out of his briefcase, he thumbed through a stack of documents, ran a finger down a page and found the location of the shipment. After walking to the other side of the warehouse, we found the crates.
“Benjamin, they’re beautiful,” I said as I peeked through the wooden slats that held the large slabs of granite. I could just make out a bright cobalt blue wave, and bursts of orange and red color. “Look at the movement in this piece; it’s perfect.”
“It should look great on the bar.” Benjamin smiled and rubbed some of the grime from the polished surface.
“I love it. Thank you so much for taking care of this. What would I do without you?”
“Glad you like it,” Benjamin nodded.
Once I snapped a few photos with my cell and saw as much as I could, Benjamin flagged down the Customs broker to escort us out of the bonded area. We said our goodbyes in the parking lot and were about to leave when Murdock remembered a question for Benjamin. After listening for a few minutes, I decided they didn’t need me and wandered back the car.
Room-size corrugated shipping boxes lined the blacktop. I kicked a few stones absentmindedly as I passed them until I came to stand beside a large blue container. Nausea hit me, overwhelming and immediate, nearly buckling my knees as the smell of perspiration, vomit, and human excrement fouled the air. I pinched my nostrils between my fingers to hold off the stench.
The odor was shockingly and undeniably female. Many women had lived inside these six walls. Young women. Too young. Some had died. Even holding my nose closed, I could still detect the stink of death. Someone had used this hellhole to transport women across the ocean to America. Anger rose within me, and I fought to keep the bile down. No woman should have to endure such a horror.
I moved closer to the unit and rapped lightly. The hollow return told me it was empty now. With a glance over my shoulder at Benjamin and the broker, I circled to the back and found what appeared to be an identification tag. I didn’t know how to decipher the numbers and letters, but was certain Lizzie could track down who used the container last. I took several quick pictures and returned to the front side when I heard the men’s voices coming toward me.
“We good?” I asked.
“We are,” Benjamin answered.
With that, we shook hands with Murdock and thanked him for coming out.
***
Less than an hour later, Benjamin and I were at the bar on the top of the Hyatt. The sun had set, and the large glass windows provided us with a spectacular view of the twinkling lights along the waterfront. We sat down in two comfortable club chairs, and a young waitress took our orders. While we waited, I formulated a plan of escape. I needed to go to my room for a few minutes, alone.
“Benjamin, do you have any aspirin on you?” I asked, hoping he didn’t.
He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. Do you have a headache?”
“I do. I’m going to slip out for a moment and grab some in my room if you don’t mind. I’ll be back before the drinks come.”
Benjamin leaned forward in his chair as if he was about to stand. “I can get it for you if you like. It’s no problem.”
“No, that’s okay. You stay and relax.” I picked up my purse before he could argue with me, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be back,” I said Terminator style.
I rode the elevator to my floor and rushed down the hall to my suite. Inside, I removed the item I needed from the safe. I grabbed a plastic cup, poured the cocktail into it, and consumed it in one long draw. Less than five minutes later, I was back upstairs.
Benjamin was reading an email on his BlackBerry when I returned. We sat at the bar talking about work projects, Christmas plans with his family, along with events in the news and politics. We finished our drinks, and I asked him if he wanted to go out, hit a club with live music, or maybe get something to eat.
He huffed a laugh at my mention of eating. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” I answered quietly.
He shook his head. “I didn’t think so. Honestly, Olivia, I would rather spend the time we have left somewhere quiet, where I can be alone with you. Can I stay with you tonight?”
“Yes, please!” I said emphatically. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“Will I wake up in the morning and find you gone again?”
I blinked but ignored the sting. “That’s unlikely. Your plane leaves tomorrow at 6:15 a.m., right? You’ll need leave by 4:45 to make it to the airport on time. Where would I possibly go that early?"
“Beats me. I don’t know where you usually disappear to.”
“That’s not fair; I already explained this morning. What’s it going to take…?” He just wouldn’t let it go.
He smiled lustfully, no doubt envisioning ‘what it would take.’ But instead of answering me he said, “You bring up a good point. My plane departs early.” He checked his watch. “It’s only a little after 7:00 now. I should probably go back to the Palace, check out, and drop off the car. Do you want to come with me?”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you take care of your hotel business and grab something to eat on your way back. I’ll stay here, put on a little something and wait for you,” I said.
“I like the sound of that.” Ben stood and took my hand to help me up. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. “See, this is what I miss living in Washington.”
I smiled up at him. “I know, but go now, or one of us is going to start something, and you’ll never get out of here.”
The elevator was right outside the bar. The doors opened, and Benjamin stepped inside. “Hold that thought,” he said, nodding at me.
***
When Ben returned, I greeted him in a short, satin robe.
“Baby, you look beautiful,” he said as he entered. “It feels like Ch
ristmas and I’m about to open a very special present.” He slowly pulled the belt on my wrap, revealing the sexy silver-laced bra, matching garters and stockings I wore.
Delight danced in his eyes as he brought both palms up, one on top of the other, against his chest. “Be still my beating heart,” he said playfully. His mood flipped like a light switch. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into his arms. “Clearly you intend to kill me this weekend, Olivia,” he said darkly, kissing my ear. “Come,” he whispered, pulling me by the hand toward the bedroom.
Chapter 9
MONDAY AFTERNOON a flight attendant greeted me as I made my way through the airplane doors to first class. Locating my seat assignment, I mentally prepared myself for the eleven-hour flight. Once the other passengers boarded, secured their carry-on luggage and buckled up, we taxied out onto the runway and waited in the queue. After several minutes, the engines roared to life, and the jet began its takeoff. The road ran rough under the wheels until the nose started to climb, lifting the enormous machine into the sky. The aircraft rose steeply then banked to the left. Below, a low-lying blanket of fog covered the ground, rendering the bay and surrounding land invisible, floating the tallest landmarks above the billowing marine layer like the mythical city of Olympus.
I put on my noise-canceling headphones and watch the clouds drift by my window, lost in thought. Benjamin's scent was still on my skin. I smiled, warmed by the memories of the weekend, the mind-blowing sex, his whispered words of love, the feel of his body pressed against mine.
But I was horribly conflicted. Benjamin wanted to toss the cards into the air now, and our relationship, or at least the future of it, was in question. The tug-of-war going on inside me was tearing me apart. I needed to take a step back and look at the situation logically, figure out what I wanted. This was huge.
