By Appointment Only

by Lisa Eugene

  Fool! I wiped the tears soaking my lashes and blurring my vision.

  He is married! Married! Oh God . . . no.

  Chase was an unethical bastard. I couldn’t have been more wrong about him. Crushed, I curled on the couch, arms snaking across my midriff, and my body shaking uncontrollably. I fought the yawning emptiness, the terrible loss and the sense of betrayal weaving like a tailor’s thread through my body. My emotions were wrecked, the pain unlike anything I’d ever endured before.

  A short time later, my apartment door opened and I felt the fall of Wanda’s hand on my shoulder.

  “Do you want to talk?”

  Breath choking like soot in my lungs, I shook my head.

  Wanda expelled a long sigh, pushing back the wet hair clinging to my face, then she quieted for a moment. “Is Emmy asleep?”

  I nodded.

  “Can I get you something?”

  I shook my head, tears leaking silently.

  “I’m here if you need me.”

  Nodding, a shudder coursed through my body. I’d be fine. I had to be. Eventually the pain would lessen. I had lots of practice picking up the shattered pieces of my life and moving on.

  ***

  I didn’t have to look at the clock to know it was six o’clock. After months of weekly visits to Chase’s office, the expectation of seeing him was programmed into the natural rhythm of my body, the tempo of my sexuality. Tuesday at six, my skin instinctively tingled with anticipation, my heart tripped just a little faster, and my flesh grew taut with longing as it had the week before.

  I cleaned every neglected inch of my apartment, did several loads of laundry at the Laundro-Mat, then sat on my couch beside an enormous mountain of clothes, folding each item with pathological precision—anything to distract the thoughts pickling the bitter pain and regret in my gut.

  Mom had collected Emmy forty-five minutes ago. I’d tried to ignore the silent pity and pointed “I told you so” that had crinkled her worried dark eyes. No doubt she’d seen the reports headlining the news stations about Chase’s wife. If she hadn’t, then my puffy, red eyes, and surly demeanor was a telltale sign something was wrong.

  A sharp pounding at my apartment door jerked me from the numb equilibrium I was desperately trying to achieve. Annoyed it might be Stanley stopping by again to ask about fixing my ceiling, I marched to the door.

  “The answer is still no!” I yelled irritably.

  “Dani, it’s me, Chase.”

  The unexpected voice startled me back from the door a few steps, stealing every molecule of air from my lungs. Surely it wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be here.

  “Dani?”

  All thought flew away, replaced by pure, raw, fragile emotion. Tears pricked the back of my eyes, filling them to the brim.

  “Go away, Chase!”

  Time ticked sluggishly. Tense silence hovered on the other side of the door. I held my breath, muscles tight, wondering if he’d heed my words.

  “Dani, open the door.” His tone was even, as cool and inflexible as steel.

  I shook my head as if he could see me. “I said, go away!”

  “You didn’t come. I waited for you.”

  I frowned, revolted. He knew I’d heard the news reports. I could tell by his voice. I laughed bitterly. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”

  “We made a promise!” he rasped, no longer calm. “You should’ve come. We had an appointment, a contract!”

  My anger ballooned, stretched perilously thin by despair. “You already have a fucking contract! It’s called a marriage certificate!”

  Morbid silence pushed against my door, then came the rumble of his iron tone, “Open the goddamn door. We have to talk.”

  I was shaking now, so infuriated my vision blurred at the edges. I hadn’t felt this kind of stabbing rage in four years, since I’d caught Steven pumping between legs that weren’t mine. All those feelings piled high on the ones crushing me now. A marriage vow was sacred, no matter the circumstances.

  “We have nothing to talk about,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “We—you—you were unfaithful to your wife! You lied! Go away!”

  “I never lied to you, Dani.”

  He’d lied by omission and deceit. All those months I’d thought he was ill, that that had been the reason he’d held back. What a fool I’d been. It’d been his wife who’d been ill, the reasons for his trips to Beth Israel. He’d visit her, then make weekly appointments with me, fucking me senseless on top of his desk. The thought made me so nauseous I thought I was going to puke.

  Should I have asked more questions? Had I seen only what I’d wanted to see? His words came back to me.

  I’m not sleeping with anyone.

  I wasn’t sure I’d believed him, but I never would have guessed he was married. There’d been no ring, no surreptitious phone calls, no need to rush home—ever. Several times we’d stayed at his office until the morning. He’d even suggested we move our appointments to his apartment. I’d declined, thinking it would be too personal. Our relationship was never supposed to be personal.

  I’d been a fool to trust him. Had I not learned my lesson?

  “Dani. We have to talk. Please, open the door. Let me explain.” A fist beat firmly against the flimsy wood, the sound blasting shock waves down to my toes.

  “There’s nothing to explain, Chase,” I yelled raggedly. “Go away! It’s over! I’m done!”

  “Enough of this! Open the door. Now!”

  “Stop it! Stop banging. My neighbors will call the police. I’ll call the police.”

  “There’re things you need to understand. Open—”

  “And if you parked your Bentley downstairs, I can’t guarantee it’ll be there when you return. You should go.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about the Bentley! Let me in.”

  “Go away!” I hated the tremor in my voice, the unrelenting agony in my heart. “Go to your wife, Chase! She needs you.”

  I heard the rumble of a tortured groan followed by a heavy thud against the door as if he’d dropped his forehead against it.

  “Christ Dani, my wife died five years ago . . .” I barely made out his rasp through the thin wood.

  Blinking back tears, I crumbled with the weight of my feelings for Chase. And although overwhelmed by the magnitude of the loss, there were things I could never forgive.

  “Dani, open up. Please, let’s talk.”

  “No,” I said weakly, jolted by the steady pounding starting again.

  I couldn’t take anymore. This was turning me inside out. His presence on the other side of my door swirled havoc inside me and shredded what little there was holding me together. I could usually depend on a reservoir of strength that came from battling life’s pitfalls, but Chase had the power to cripple me, to drain the will from my spirit— and that was something I swore I’d never let another man do.

  “Please, go away. You’re scaring Emmy,” I lied.

  The noise stopped. I could sense him on the other side of the door considering my words. He knew Emmy stayed with my mother on Tuesday nights, but there was no way he could be sure plans hadn’t changed, that she wasn’t here now.

  A lengthy minute ticked by before I heard the quiet shuffle of receding footsteps.

  I slumped against the door, then slowly, limply, slid to the floor like an empty sack. I dropped my head in my hands.

  And I wept Chase Rutherford from my heart with deep, wretched sobs.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Rutherford Academy auditorium was congested with students, families, and teachers. I sat between my mother and Wanda in the front row, eyes fixed anxiously on the stage. An orchestra comprised of students harmonizing string instruments finished their composition, inspiring me to clap zealously and jump to my feet.

  Children of all ages, with varying degrees of disabilities, made up the ensemble, and my heart squeezed tight at their beautifully honest performance. The students beamed with joy at the thunderous applause.<
br />
  “Emmy’s up next.” Mom reached over and squeezed my hand when she retook her seat, making me smile nervously.

  Emmy would be the only student doing a solo performance for the graduation. She was soon introduced by the moderator. Mrs. Nancy held her hand as they entered stage right, crossing to the gleaming Steinway. Emmy’s dark hair was subdued in a neat twist I’d fussed over just hours ago.

  She looked adorable in a blue organza dress I’d rescued from a second-hand shop. Seeing the pink Dora backpack riding her back made me smile. My stubborn daughter had refused to relinquish it. I searched her face, making sure she wasn’t distressed or frightened in front of the large crowd. Emmy appeared relaxed, her brown eyes wide and shining.

  Mrs. Nancy started off the J.S. Bach - French Suites No. 1 in D minor, then after a minute, Emmy took the bench by herself. It seemed the audience held a collective breath as she began to play. Not a whisper breached the air or created a stir.

  I watched the flawless performance in a dazed euphoria, my chest exploding with motherly pride. From where I sat, I had a clear view of Emmy’s face. And although she appeared impassive, her performance was layered with color and a mosaic of dazzling emotion. She performed several pieces, and the music weaved gracefully through me, almost obliterating the sorrow of my heartbreak.

  I’d kept myself busy all week, determined to put Chase out of my mind. Just when I thought I’d been successful, I’d catch a glimpse of him on TV, or someone at work would mention the sensational news story that had opinions colliding. It seemed everyone wanted to weigh in on Chase’s situation and the ethical and moral implications. The news stations were getting higher ratings than most reality shows.

  I clapped and joined the audience on their feet when Emmy was done, stopping only to wipe a tear from my eye.

  “She was amazing!” Wanda smiled and hugged me.

  “Amazing!” Mom echoed.

  All I could do was nod joyfully. My throat was too tight for words. I thought about how far Emmy and I had come, how lost I’d been when she was first diagnosed with autism. At that point, she’d spent most of her day just screaming. I remembered the many specialists, the testing, the medications, the different diets, the gut treatments, and the immune system regulation. I’d tried everything to help my daughter. My biggest battles were trying to get Emmy the services she’d desperately needed. And I’d done it alone. Steven had wanted no part of it. He’d wanted to wash his hands of her.

  I inhaled deeply, watching as Emmy left the stage. She’d flourished in so many incredible ways. Her progress didn’t follow standard developmental charts. It wasn’t traditional, and was still hard for others to see. It was a unique blossoming of a different set of attributes. The music that flowed through her little fingers simply reflected the beauty inside her and her limitless potential.

  Soon everyone was filing out of the auditorium. I smiled and nodded humbly as many approached to remark on Emmy’s performance.

  “It was a wonderful ceremony. All the children were amazing,” I commented to a teacher as we filtered out.

  Slowed by the crowd, I looked around for my mother and Wanda who’d gotten swallowed in the throng.

  I felt Chase before I saw him.

  My skin prickled with awareness and I turned, suddenly peering into bottomless blue eyes. His long legs quickly ate up the distance between us, and my knees almost collapsed when he stopped right in front of me. Stupidly, my heart leapt.

  His brows furrowed deeply as he looked at me, and I couldn’t help but notice his appearance. He seemed more haggard than ever, exhaustion beating up his gorgeous face.

  “Dani . . .” My name was a whispered plea.

  I choked out a small sound, turning away from the gaze that knew all of me so well. We stood anchored like rocks in the stream of people flowing around us.

  “Emmy performed beautifully,” he said after clearing his throat. “I hope she enjoyed practicing.”

  I didn’t acknowledge the reference to his gift. Desperate to escape, I took a step back and was jostled by the people behind me. Chase was a full head taller than the crowd, solidly planted and seemingly oblivious to the attention we were getting. Swallowing at my parched throat, I tried to pick out my mother and friend from the approaching faces. I needed a savior because I was dying inside, suffering a painful, public execution.

  “Dani . . .” he prompted.

  “Go away, Chase!” I hissed beneath my breath.

  I almost yelped when he grabbed my elbow and practically dragged me into the nearby sound room. Not wanting to make a scene, I kept my feet moving and my features placid.

  “Chase, please don’t do this. Not here. Not now,” I pleaded when we were inside the room with the door firmly shut.

  He was quiet for a moment, his sharp gaze raking over my face.

  “Dani, look at me.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, I turned to him.

  “Come to me, please. We need to talk. Let me explain.”

  “I don’t talk to liars.”

  He shoved his fingers through his hair, exhaling audibly. He was obviously trying to summon patience.

  “I know you’re upset, but how could I have told you? I was afraid of losing you; afraid you wouldn’t come back. You’d already formed some harsh opinions of me. You vilified me from the first moment you saw me, I know you did. Telling you would only have pushed you away.”

  “It was all a lie, a crafty betrayal,” I accused hotly. “I thought you were ill—and that was the reason you initially held back from me. Meanwhile, you were intentionally deceiving me. God, I’m such a fool!”

  He leaned very close to my ear and I had to force myself to breathe. “You don’t understand what the last five years have been like, Dani. I’ve been alone, dead inside, filled with so much grief. You don’t understand— ”

  My nails dug into my palms. “What I understand is I was used!”

  “You know that’s not true. I meant it when I said you’re very special to me.”

  “How do I know everything you’ve told me isn’t a lie?”

  “Dani, please listen to me. You mean the world to me.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, my anger swelled like a vengeful storm. I wished he’d choke on his lying, pathetic words. All I wanted to do was hurt him like he’d hurt me. Anger was always an easier hammer to wield and over the years I’d become somewhat of an expert. I needed him to be gone from my life—for good.

  “It’s over, Chase. Our little . . . show is over. No more appointments. We can both come clean now.”

  “What are you talking about?” His body grew dangerously still. His voice was deadly.

  “The truth is I’d hoped to land a wealthy man, but seeing that’s not going to happen, I’m moving on.”

  “I don’t believe you. What we have isn’t about money, or even sex. It’s become more than that, and you know it.”

  I shook my head in adamant denial, but he continued, “You were upset when you thought I was giving you money—when I helped you.”

  Bracing a hand on my hip, I found the strength to belt out a dry chuckle. “You’re wrong. It was a game. I was holding out for a bigger prize. I didn’t want to settle for occasional petty favors. I was looking for a sugar daddy, someone long term who could set me and my daughter up, maybe a nice apartment, a generous weekly stipend.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Your current situation isn’t . . . palatable. I need to move on. I’m pissed I wasted so much time and effort on you. That’s why I’m really angry. Go away!”

  “I refuse to believe our time together meant nothing to you, or that it was just a game.”

  I scoffed, lifting my chin and ignoring the excruciating pain clenching my stomach. “You think I’d spread myself open on a desk for so many months if I didn’t expect to get something in return? You were supposed to be my meal ticket.”

  “Dani, dammit, stop it!” Rage swirled in the blistering depths of his eyes. His chest
expanded and he seemed very dangerous at that moment.

  My knees weakened, and on the brink of total collapse, I turned to leave. His hand shot out, grabbing my arm, long fingers digging into my flesh. My gaze jerked to where he gripped me, to the touch I treasured that now felt like the lash of a whip.

  “Get your fucking hands off me. Don’t you dare touch me!” I pulled away. “Go to your wife, Chase.”

  I was surprised my weak legs carried me out the door and down the still-crowded hall. I spotted my mother in a conversation with another parent, Wanda at her side. Wanda took one look at me and muttered an oath.

  “He’s here, isn’t he?” she asked, stepping closer.

  I managed a nod, my body vibrating like a plucked string. I was afraid I’d snap and burst into hysterics. I needed to calm down before collecting Emmy.

  “Fuck! I need a smoke,” I whispered back to Wanda.

  ***

  I’d planned a small get together at my apartment to celebrate Emmy’s performance. I now wondered how I’d get through the evening. Each person had brought a dish and a bottle of wine, and the small crowd milled about, chatting and laughing in animated clusters.

  I gripped the glass of wine I’d been nursing all evening. Making a valiant attempt to be social, I approached Gladys, Roslyn, and Brenda. Hearing the string of their conversation, I immediately wished I’d headed in the opposite direction.

  “He’s running for mayor. I’d heard about the Flex-Steel pollution scandal, but I didn’t know his wife was in a coma,” Brenda was saying.

  “I didn’t know he was married at all,” Gladys chimed in. “There’d been nothing in the news.”

  “There’d been something in the news about five years ago, but nothing since then. She’s the daughter of Senator Kensington,” Roslyn added. “He was elected to the senate six years ago and has become a national figure. During the last two election cycles, he served as chair of the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee. The Kensington family is very powerful—and very private.”

  Gladys turned to me, eyebrows raised. “Rutherford owns the school Emmy goes to, doesn’t he? Have you heard anything?”