“Well, the helicopter is in the boss’s private hangar at the airport, which is exactly where it belongs during the biggest storm of the year – as for me, I’m here at home watching the Buckeyes get their heads handed to them on a plate.”
Was there just the tiniest hint of forced cheer in the man’s voice?
“Sir, I’m a bit confused here … Mr. Killane seemed to think that just as soon as he finished one last bit of business at the office, he’d be heading out here to help us eat all this food – as in, heading out here in that helicopter you tell me is currently sitting in its hangar at the airport.”
“Just a second.”
The volume of the football game dropped to nothing.
“Ms. Daniels, when did the boss tell you that was the plan?”
“Just over two hours ago – so just what did he say this morning?”
“Ms. Daniels, all I can tell you is that before dawn this morning, Mr. Killane called and gave me some detailed and specific instructions – among them, that the helicopter was to stay put and the crew could stand down, because he would not under any circumstances whatsoever be flying today.”
A beat of silence. I could hear all kinds of things being left unsaid in that silence.
Then he added, “And as I said, if he’s changed his mind, it doesn’t really matter –it would be beyond unsafe to fly any distance under the conditions we have out there right now. The reports I’ve looked at say the winds will be dropping down to something a little more manageable soon and the snow is expected to tail off in another hour or so – but until that happens, Mr. Killane’s helicopter is staying in its hangar.”
Time to find out what he isn’t telling you, Ashley.
“Mr. Pulaski, what other instructions did the boss give you this morning?”
Seconds ticked away. I heard the wind whistling outside, I heard Mom’s gas furnace kick on, and I heard that weird burbling noise her refrigerator made when it was in a pensive mood.
Then the man sighed and he answered me, and it was like hearing a doctor deliver a terminal diagnosis.
“Ms. Daniels, I don’t know what’s up, but I do know Mr. Killane is a good man – and you’re good for him, we all know that. Anyway, he never specifically said I couldn’t tell you, so … well, after saying he wouldn’t be flying, he also said you might call later. I was told in no uncertain terms that if you did call, I was to refuse point-blank to fly you anywhere at all, no matter what you said.”
I grasped at the only straw I could see. “But that was going on the assumption that the storm was going to be hitting us with everything it had, and since you just said the wind and snow will be easing up soon – ”
“No, Ms. Daniels. I hope to God everything is all right with Mr. Killane, but the fact is he specifically said that even if the weather magically cleared up somehow, I was not allowed to take you anywhere today, even if you said it was an emergency.”
He paused. “And while I can’t help you today, he also said that starting tomorrow, I was to take my orders from you and fly you anywhere you wanted to go.”
Another pause. “He said that after today, you’d be in charge.”
I think I hung up. I don’t remember. I just seemed to notice that the call was over, and then I looked up at Mom.
“He wouldn’t lie, Mom. He couldn’t. And why would he, even if he had it in him, which he doesn’t?”
She took my hands in hers again.
“We know he doesn’t lie, baby. But that means we have to look at exactly what he did say, because when somebody’s trying not to tell you something, they’ll choose their words very carefully. Now, what did he say about coming over here? What were his exact words?”
“Well, he said that getting places under tough conditions was the reason he had a helicopter, or something close to that – and he said to imagine how exciting it would be as he touched down in the middle of the street, making a grand entrance through a big cloud of blowing snow kicked up by the rotors … and he seemed to think after a splashy scene like that, a certain mom would be unable to resist jumping his bones right then and there.”
She shrugged away the prospect of passionate middle-of-the-street sex with my boyfriend. “So he did not in fact say ‘Ashley, I will fly to your mother’s house in my helicopter,’ did he? It would have been so easy to say it directly, but he didn’t – he implied it, he drew a nifty mental picture of what it would be like when he arrived, but he did not actually say he was coming here – is that correct?”
“Yes, Mom.”
My voice hadn’t sounded that small since I was five years old.
I thought of something else, and my voice shot up the scale from small into loud and louder.
“Mr. Pulaski said he was given ‘detailed and specific instructions’ on what to do if I called, and when Devon called Jimmy earlier to let him know I was on my way down to the car, he said his instructions still held and Jimmy was to follow them to the letter – what is with all these instructions about me?”
“I can’t say, sweetheart, although … well, I get the feeling that your guy’s trying to tell you something, in his own way.”
“So why doesn’t he just call me?”
And right on cue, “Sharp Dressed Man” echoed from my iPhone’s speaker.
We both stared at the phone for maybe two seconds. We watched it sitting there next to the cornbread stuffing, serenading us with the finest in classic ‘80s rock, and then it was in my hand and I was across the room before I realized how all that had happened – I just knew that suddenly I was standing by myself in the front hallway, leaning into the wall with one shoulder, my back to the kitchen.
I took the call and stabbed the speaker off just in time – whatever else this was, I knew it was something I didn’t want Mom to hear.
“Hey, it’s about time, big guy – Mom says if you don’t get over here soon and help us eat all this food, she will never, ever have any variety of sex with you.” I was going for ‘relaxed and witty,’ but my shaking voice gave the words more of a ‘trying to hide mortal terror’ effect.
“I can barely contain myself at the thought of enjoying such delicious food and even more delicious three-way sexual gymnastics –”
“Hey, I never said I was joining in, fella – my plan was to hide in the living room and turn the TV way up to cover the sound of all that passionate moaning. But, Devon, what –”
“Oh, I’m sure I could persuade you to join us, sweet Ashley – but smart girl that you are, I’m sure you’ve already figured out that I am not coming to your lovely mother’s home. It’s a terrible pity, really.”
My voice skated into a whole new high-pitched world of shaking. “Devon, please, what’s going on? Are you all right?”
“Oh, I haven’t been all right for years, you know that. Now, to business – Ashley, do you recall the promise I made to you on the bridge in San Francisco?”
I remembered San Francisco, all right. I remembered standing on the bridge, wrapped in the powerful arms of a man I barely knew at the time. I remembered how he loomed over me, holding my soft curves against the hard planes of his body. I remembered his warmth, his tuneless humming, his breath stirring my hair as we looked down at the churning grey waters so far below …
I remembered he started spouting bridge-jumping statistics. I remembered getting him to pinky swear that he wouldn’t take a dive over the railing – and it was all what I came to know as classic Devon, weird but light-hearted and harmless, and he did readily promise to not jump off the bridge …
But he made another promise that day, didn’t he?
Fear sank its claws into me, but before I could think or breathe, Devon spoke in the professional, routine manner of someone reading out the minutes of a city council meeting.
“I’m sure you do in fact remember, but for the record, let’s review. I promised, using these exact words, to ‘make a phone call to Ms. Ashley Daniels the next time I find myself in a high place while entertai
ning dark thoughts of a sudden descent to a much lower place.’ And as it happens, at this moment I find myself in quite a high place, entertaining dark thoughts about a sudden descent to a very much lower place, and so I am making a phone call to you, Ms. Ashley Daniels – though my character flaws are endless, I can at least cherish the one small truth that I always keep my promises.”
“Devon, don’t –”
“Ah, but I must, lovely Ashley. Think of it as fate coming round for a payment which is long overdue – a simple business arrangement between myself and the dark forces governing our existence, to put it another way.”
He hesitated – just a bit, just one tiny breath held a second too long, but I heard it. Then I heard keening wind howling above the sound of his breathing.
“Devon, where are you? Are you still at the office?”
“Ashley, you know perfectly well where I am – I’m standing on the roof of Killane Corporate Holdings, looking down at a drop which is much greater than the mere 245 feet of open air beneath the Golden Gate Bridge.”
I saw him up there. I pictured him standing all alone in the freezing air as the demons inside his head, the terrors put there by so many years of neglect and abuse and pure inhuman shittiness, closed in to destroy him.
White-hot panic screamed at me, but I shoved it out of the way. Fuck panic. Your guy needs you, Ashley, so man up and stop this, right here and NOW.
Don’t let him leave you.
“Devon, no. I know you’re upset, but –”
“I’m quite calm at the moment.”
A pause, and did I hear his footsteps crunching in the snow, as the wind dropped down to a whisper?
“My, it’s cold up here. I’m quite glad I thought to put on my cashmere overcoat.”
Then I heard that skip in his breathing again, that hesitation that I knew came from more than the cold, and I made an inspired guess.
“But you did have an attack earlier, didn’t you? After I left?”
That long, shuddering sigh told me I was right.
“Yes. Quite a bad one, actually … but I’m feeling much better now.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“Ah, but I sent you away, remember? So like so many other things, that was entirely my fault. But in any case, I must be going now – well, I suppose that’s a terrible way to put it, under the circumstances, but it is the truth.”
Brisk, business-like, decided – there was no more hesitation in that voice.
Not quite.
“Devon, look, I can be down there in, I don’t know with the snow and all, maybe an hour? Just hang on until I get there and we’ll talk, okay? Can you do that for me?”
“Ashley, I promised that when this day and this time came, I would call you. I have done so. I did not promise to wait until you got here.”
I locked the panic and the fear and the crying into a box deep inside me, and I just breathed.
I listened to him breathing.
Thirty seconds that lasted forever passed, and we breathed together.
Then I heard him whisper.
“Ashley?”
“Talk to me, Devon. Please.”
Another few empty, breathing seconds drifted by.
Then he said it.
He said the words he’d never said. He said the words that had always been inside him, and he said them in a firm, clear voice, without a drop of hesitation or doubt.
He said the four deadliest words I could imagine.
“Ashley, I love you.”
Then he hung up.
44. No Time
Was I too late?
There was no way to know and no time to worry about it – there was just me, Devon, and a snowbound city between us. I had to make it across that city, I had to somehow cut the travel time I’d guesstimated at sixty minutes down to no minutes, and any obstacles in my way would have to be crossed, dodged, outsmarted, or blown the hell up, whatever.
Obstacle One was Mom. I dropped the phone into my pocket, I turned to yell something vague and comforting about why I was bolting out the door – and there she was, right behind me and throwing my coat over my shoulders.
She hadn’t heard my little apocalypse of a conversation, but somehow she knew – chalk it up to Mom radar, but somehow she knew her only daughter had to charge out into a blizzard on a rescue mission, and there she was to help me into my coat and boots, and to deliver a hug that squeezed the breath right out of me.
She hugged hard enough to put my ribs in danger, she spoke right into my ear, and that shaking voice told me she was holding back way more that she wanted to say.
“Ashley, baby, please be careful – okay? I’ll hold the fort here, you just go do whatever you have to and call me when you can, all right?
I thought about telling her I couldn’t see any way to do this – whatever ‘this’ was going to involve – and be careful, but seconds were flying and I just didn’t have the time.
Obstacle Two was Jimmy, and he figured to be a much tougher opponent. That giant staring man was loyal to Devon like your fingers are loyal to your hand, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out that his ‘instructions’ said to not let a certain big girl go anywhere and to tie me up and sit on me if he had to – and I knew Jimmy would follow Devon’s instructions right down to the last letter and period.
I didn’t have a minute to spare for tiptoeing around the subject or delicate psychological ploys or reasoned arguments or begging, so I went for the direct approach – I slogged down the front walkway, stood by the front passenger door of the SUV, and hammered on the tinted window with my fist.
Two seconds ticked past before the window rolled down. Wasting not another breath, I clambered up onto the running board, hooked my elbows over the open window, and leaned inside.
“Jimmy, listen.”
Jimmy turned his head and stared.
“Mr. Killane told you to not take me anywhere, right?
Jimmy nodded.
“Swell – so if I drive, it’s me taking you somewhere, and your instructions don’t say anything about that, right?”
Jimmy stared some more.
I watched him think it over, I felt the seconds hammering away with my heartbeat, and then he nodded again.
But then he spoke, in that high, piping, breathy little voice.
“Mr. Killane wants me to protect you. If I let you drive in these conditions, that would not be protecting you.”
Jimmy went back to staring.
I did NOT have time for this crap.
“Jimmy, so help me, if you do not either drive me downtown to Killane Corporate Holdings or let me drive, I will start walking. I will walk until I find somebody to carjack, and then I’ll drive anyway, probably with the police or the National Guard chasing after me, and I’ll end up either stuck in a snowbank or locked up in a jail cell. What will Mr. Killane think if you let that happen?”
That stare, and then that strange high-pitched voice again.
“You wouldn’t be able to walk that far in this snow. You wouldn’t hurt somebody and take their car.”
Don’t you just hate it when people shoot down your ideas by being practical and right?
Ashley, goddammit, think.
I did, and I remembered. I remembered Devon on the phone, all those hours ago. He told Jimmy to follow his instructions, sure, but then he also told Jimmy not to worry – so that meant those instructions had bothered this silent, staring giant.
Jimmy knew something was wrong – not what, exactly, but he knew.
He knows this situation is all wrong and he’s loyal to Devon – so use those facts, Ashley, and get moving.
I scraped my brain for what to say, and then it hit me.
“Jimmy, do you remember when you worked security at that nightclub? Dealing with lots of loud, drunk assholes, assholes who laughed at you like hyenas if you dared to open your mouth and say something? And you remember an evening when a certain tall, pale guy showed up, with
a bitchy Hollywood slut on his arm – a decent, understanding, not-drunk guy who spoke to you like a person, who spoke to you in your own language? A guy who hired you away from that terrible place, but who treats you like his brother and not his employee?”
He stared.
“I remember.” He considered a moment, and then added, “That woman was awful. You’re much nicer. You care about Mr. Killane.”
“We both do, Jimmy, and now he needs us. He needs me at his side, right now, to save him from … well, to save him from something terrible that’s going to happen, and he needs you to look past what he told you to do. He needs you to find the courage to help him instead, right now, this second, and the only way you can help him is by taking me downtown. Will you please take me to him?”
One more desperate moment passed while he stared at me and said nothing. Then somewhere inside that giant frame, Jimmy found the courage Devon and I needed him to have.
“Climb down. I’ll open the door.”
Seconds later, we lurched away from the curb and into the storm.
Imagine a new ice age dropping into your town for a not-so-friendly visit. Visualize snow drifting higher by the minute, while an arctic wind shakes the trees and whistles between the buildings. Picture sliding down empty streets because nobody but you is crazy enough to be driving, and think about slaloming around corners while keeping an eye out for National Guardsmen. Now, imagine all of that standing between you and saving the love of your life, and you’ve got a rough idea of my trip downtown.
Jimmy saved us again and again.
I’d driven down snowy Chicago streets for years, but my winter driving skills paled next to those of the silent giant beside me. Jimmy nudged us around abandoned cars, between drifts, and down the few streets that had seen a snowplow, working out a winding and improvised route that took us into the heart of the city.
He teased us around turns and down narrow byways like a pro, getting us past obstacles that I know would have sent me spinning like a top into something immovable and final. We did hit the occasional slick patch here and there and shimmied around some of the corners, but between Jimmy’s steady maneuvering, a four-wheel-drive transmission, a set of heavy-duty snow chains, and the traction we got just from the SUV’s massive weight, the trip started to look doable.
Five Minutes Late: A Billionaire Romance Page 51
