Witch Wants Forever

by Victoria Danann

  She might have been mistaken, but his expression indicated that he was glad to see her.

  “Hey. Roewynn. Come in and meet April. She’s brainstorming how to get the most out of this space.” April was a tall blonde who looked like a World War II pinup. She was throwing off every signal known to woman that she liked Dash. A lot. Turning toward Roewynn, her mouth reshaped into a toothy smile that never affected her ice-blue eyes. Roewynn had to blink twice, because for an instant she was sure she saw those teeth grow points.

  “Good morning, April.”

  Dash talked excitedly about what he’d like to do with the space. He wanted Roewynn to have an outer office but wanted a glass wall between his office and hers.

  “Why?” asked April.

  That stymied Dash for a few seconds. He couldn’t exactly say, “Because I like looking at her.”

  He went with, “Call me controlling.”

  “Works for me.” April decided to drop the challenge.

  Within an hour, Dash’s vision had been adequately communicated along with his insistence that the work be accomplished within two weeks. If she could find a contractor who could do it on that schedule, with daily penalties for missing deadline, she could have the job. If not, he’d call the next person on his list.

  “We’ll get it done, Mr. Fonteneau. However, arrangements will have to be made to let workmen in on weekends.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “I’ll send a contract over later.”

  Dash turned his attention to Roewynn. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s going to look like a whole new office.”

  He grinned. “Yeah.” When he started walking, she followed. “We’re going to be down here. It’ll be a little cramped, but it’s only for two weeks. At least that’s the plan. Did you get what you wanted at Micro Center?”

  “They’re holding everything at customer service for somebody to pay and pick up.”

  As they passed Zane’s office, seeing the door was open, Dash stopped and said, “Somebody needs to go over to Micro Center and pay for Roewynn’s stuff.” Roewynn fished the invoice out of her purse and handed it to Dash. Dash looked it over quickly. “You know what? Forget that. I need stuff, too. I’m going to lunch and then I’m going gadget shopping.”

  Zane just smiled like he was enjoying himself. “Sure thing.”

  When Dash turned to walk out, Roewynn said, “You were going to show me the, um, temporary office?”

  “Oh.” He waved her off. “Forget that for now. Let’s go pick up your stuff and figure out what I need.”

  “Um. Alright.”

  “Stairs?”

  “Definitely. Please don’t make me get in that death trap.” The instant she said that her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  Dash smirked. “Yes. You did mean. And you’re right. We should look into updating that as well.”

  “On the other hand, going up and downstairs works off bagels.”

  “You like bagels?”

  She nodded. “Breakfast of champions.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but I consume them anyway. Every morning with coffee.”

  “Einstein?”

  “No. Moe’s Broadway. They’re just half a block from where I live. You recommend Einstein?”

  “It’s close. I like it when there’s no wait. When I have to wait, I start thinking that yogurt might be a better choice.”

  “This is me.” He stopped at the red Audi.

  “This is a beautiful car.”

  As they stood in the parking lot he looked at it like he was seeing it for the first time. “Thanks.”

  “Are you sure we can get all the stuff in here?”

  Still looking at the car, he said, “Hmmm.”

  “Let’s take my car,” she offered.

  “Okay.”

  By the time they’d reached her parking spot Dash had come to understand why Zane was so happy for Dash to have the primo spot up front.

  “This is me,” she said, pointing her fob at an army green Tahoe.

  He stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” she said.

  He had no answer to that question. The car had been some kind of trigger.

  Dr. Parsighian had told him to expect those. That there might be vestiges of memories from his past that would present themselves in curious ways, things he could almost put his finger on. But not quite.

  As she was pulling out of the lot, he said, “I’m starved. Let’s have lunch first.”

  “Um. Okay.”

  “You like sushi?”

  “Depends.”

  “Depends on what?”

  “On whether or not raw fish is involved.”

  He laughed. “Okay. Let me think what’s over there. Almost everything really. So pizza?” She seemed noncommittal. “Barbeque?” She wrinkled her nose. “There’s a salad, soup, potato buffet thing.” That got a big grin.

  “Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. We have a winner. You know how to get there?”

  “I know where Micro Center is. I don’t know where salad, soup, potato thing is.”

  “Okay. Get off at Hampden and turn left.”

  After they had filled trays with salads and, in Dash’s case, other stuff, they were lucky to grab a booth that had just been vacated.

  “I like your hair down.” Roewynn reached up reflexively and touched the silky ends that fell forward over her collar bone. She’d worn it up to her interview, thinking that would be more professional looking. “That was not a come on. Just to be clear. Honestly I’m not that clear about what might give offense. So if I say something you think is inappropriate, just tell me. It won’t affect your job.”

  “It was a nice compliment. Thank you.”

  “So what kinds of things do I need to get today? Assume I have nothing.” Which was true.

  “Not true. I know you have a phone.”

  “I do have a phone.”

  “It’s a start. You need a computer, of course. I recommend a laptop in a docking station so you can work on a series of flat screen monitors at the office, but lift the laptop out of the station and take it with you if you need to.”

  “Yes. I need that. One monitor so I can monitor operations. One for stuff like mail, data and trends. And one for watching whatever you’re doing.”

  She snorted and had to grab a napkin. “A spy monitor?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. In case I get bored.”

  “You don’t seem like the sort of person who gets bored.”

  His smile faded. “You’d be surprised.”

  “If you tell me you get bored often, I would be surprised.”

  He wouldn’t tell her that he experienced periods of boredom because that wasn’t it. And he wouldn’t tell her about the other thing either.

  “What do you do for fun?” he asked.

  “Fun?” she said. “What is this thing called fun?”

  He smiled. “Come on. I know that somebody like you doesn’t just go home and watch TV with a cat.”

  She looked at him funny. “What makes you think I have a cat?”

  He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know why I said that.”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, I do live an incredibly boring life that does involve TV. Sometimes I go shopping. I like the parks. The squirrels.”

  “Squirrels?” He almost choked. “You do know they’re rodents.”

  “So what?” she said indignantly.

  “I mean rats with bushy tails.”

  She shrugged. “Rats get a bad rap. They’re just trying to survive. Like everybody else.”

  “You’re an odd person, Roewynn.”

  “Do I need a contract? You can’t fire me for being odd. Being odd does not constitute not doing my job.”

  “Odd is perfectly okay with me.”

  She’d been half-joking, but the other half relaxed visibly.

  The two desks were placed in an L configuration in the tem
porary office. It was small enough that, to make it work, the corner of Dash’s desk practically touched the corner of Roewynn’s. Everybody was mad about the construction. Not just the noise, but the dust.

  Dash was nonplussed. “No pain. No gain,” was all he said.

  Zane replied, “I’m not getting any gain for my pain though.”

  “It’ll be over soon.”

  Truthfully, by the time the gorgeous new space was furnished, decorated and ready to move into, Dash was sorry he’d stipulated two weeks. He’d gotten used to working so close to Roewynn. Together they’d created a completely new vision for the job description of CEO of Fonteneau Food Services and had discussed how to implement it.

  At the same time they were creating his job description from scratch, they were creating hers. The result was a dual list of duties and responsibilities that was an enviable amalgamation, blending so beautifully it could only be described by the word team. In the scant weeks they’d been working things through, part trial and error, part common sense, part fancy dance Tulane education, they’d almost reached a level of understanding that involved finishing each other’s sentences.

  The original concept for separate offices lasted half a day.

  Dash walked out without saying a word. Twenty minutes later he showed up with two guys from the maintenance crew.

  “Get up,” he said to Roewynn.

  When she did, the two maintenance guys began moving her desk into Dash’s office.

  “Where do you want it, Mr. Fonteneau?”

  He had them put it at the exact same proximity, at the exact same angle as the old desk in the small office. After they’d finished moving all the peripheral furniture and machines and plugging everything in, they left Roewynn standing in an outer office with no furniture.

  She smiled at Dash. “I guess this means you missed me.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head,” he said as he turned around and returned to his desk.

  He’d just sat down when Adrienne breezed in looking like she was on her way to lunch at the White House. She paused in the empty outer office before walking into Dash’s new office for two.

  Roewynn, who had not yet reseated herself, said, “Hello. May I help you?”

  Adrienne scanned Roewynn slowly head to toe with the same look she’d give dog poop on her shoe. “I’m here to see my son.” She looked at Dash.

  That said, Roewynn realized that Dash had gotten his distinctive gray eyes from the woman standing in their office behaving badly.

  “Roewynn, this is Adrienne Fonteneau.” To Adrienne, he said, “This is my assistant, Roewynn Fortis.”

  She spared Roewynn a scant glance before saying, “What’s happened to the outer office? And why is your ‘assistant’ not there? Where she is supposed to be? April would not have created this,” she waved her hand, “arrangement.”

  “You know April?”

  “Of course. What did you think?”

  “I thought she was a resource of Zane’s.”

  Adrienne shook that off. “She’s the daughter of my closest friend. You remember…”

  Dash cut her off. “I’m modernizing the company, Adrienne. There are no ‘supposed to be’s’ unless I say so.”

  Adrienne sniffed. “It’s a big responsibility.”

  “Was there something you need?” Dash said with deliberate curtness.

  “Just looking in on you.”

  “Well, thanks for stopping by.”

  “I’m expecting you for church and Sunday lunch at the house.”

  “Lunch. Yes. If I have to. Church? Absolutely not.”

  Adrienne made a face, turned on her expensive heels, and exited with an imperiousness that Roewynn thought could only have been acquired through decades of narcissistic certainty that she was superior in all things.

  After she was gone, Roewynn took her chair.

  After a few seconds, Dash said, “What do you think we should do with the outer office?”

  She looked over her shoulder for a minute. “Pool table?”

  He laughed.

  And that was why she had to be close by. The laughter kept the thing away. Plus watching her calmed him. He liked the way she moved, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, the sound of her voice as she talked to people on the phone. He even liked the sound of her typing on the keyboard.

  And so they began to fall into a comfortable routine. He looked for excuses to take her to lunch. The second time they’d been out on a convenient errand, they took his car. He stopped in front of the valet stand at Studio, which was a restaurant attached to a renovated Larimer hotel. It catered to the crowd who wanted to talk over a meal and not shout over a meal.

  It was cloudy and cold outside, but not inside. So Roewynn began to take off her coat. As Dash was helping her with that, two men in suits walked in behind them.

  “Dash! Good God, man. It is you.” Dash turned to look into the face of a nice-looking guy about his age who was clearly overjoyed to see him, but the smile faded with the sparkle in his eye when he saw that the recognition was not mutual. Realization captured the man’s expressive face just before he said, “Oh, shit! I forgot all about…” Looking embarrassed and uncertain, he said, “I’m Trey. We were, ah, friends in school. Played hockey together.”

  Dash nodded politely then said, “This is my assistant, Roewynn Fortis.”

  Trey smiled at Roewynn, then looking over her shoulder said, “Oh. Looks like our party is already here. Nice to see you, Dash.”

  As Trey hurried off with his associate close behind, the hostess gave Dash a brilliant smile, ignoring Roewynn altogether as if she was invisible, and said, “Right this way.”

  She led them to a table a few steps up on the mezzanine that sat next to a window and handed them menus, continuing to simper for Dash.

  “Enjoy your lunch,” she said to him and lightly touched his shoulder.

  The window was looking down on the midday rush of 16th Street and Dash seemed to find it fascinating. It was almost as if he was avoiding eye contact with Roewynn.

  “Almost looks like snow.”

  “Kind of early for snow.”

  The waiter came, introduced himself, took drink orders and left them alone with the elephant who’d pulled a chair up to their table.

  “Dash…”

  He finally brought his gaze to hers and she saw something there she hadn’t seen before. Sadness. Maybe even sorrow.

  “It was bound to happen. I mean I did grow up here,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know…”

  “I’m the mystery man.” She looked blank. “You didn’t see it on TV. Then you’ve been lying about how much TV you watch. Because it was everywhere.”

  “Tell me.”

  He made the story as brief as possible without omitting any of the key points and was completely conflicted in his feelings about Roewynn’s reaction. On the one hand he hated seeing pity in her amazing eyes. But he would have hated it equally as much if he’d found no sympathy there.

  “So that’s why your job and office and everything was non-existent. I thought it was kind of unusual for a CEO to not have a computer. Or an office. And the way you’ve completely overhauled policies, procedures, best practices, methods… Like you were starting from scratch. It makes sense now.

  “That’s why you look at your mother like she’s…”

  “A stranger.”

  “And why you call her Adrienne.” He nodded. “And you call the elder Mr. Fonteneau, Grey.”

  He sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah.” Roewynn’s eyes flicked to the 16th Street scene then back to Dash. “But Zane…”

  “What about him?”

  “You act like you’re close.”

  “Zane’s easy to like and impossible to ignore. So, now that you know the whole story, we can sort of… forget about it?”

  “Absolutely. Right after you tell me what I need to know about do’s and don’t’s.”

  “Th
ere aren’t any where you’re concerned. You’re doing everything right.”

  She smiled. “Is that an official performance review, Mr. Fonteneau?”

  He chuckled. “If I say yes, are you going to ask for a raise?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I was going to ask for a Vail condo, grocery delivery service, and use of the company jet.”

  “We don’t have a company jet.”

  “Does that mean it’s a yes for the Vail condo and the groceries?”

  “Grocery delivery service, maybe. Vail condo? I don’t have a Vail condo. You can’t have a Vail condo if I don’t have one.”

  “Sooooooo if you get one? Then we can talk?”

  He laughed, feeling good about having the whole amnesia thing out in the open and feeling even better about how quickly he and Roewynn had recovered their natural rhythm of engaging one another.

  At the earliest opportunity Dash called Dr. Parsighian. Together they worked out a script for when he ran into people he’d known before. Dash felt like having canned responses at the ready was like being girded with armor.

  The ‘thing’ never abated unless he was either asleep or at work. Any other time he was plagued by a feeling in his midsection that something was horribly wrong. He bought fidget things to keep his fingers busy. Tried puzzles and trying to learn French. When it came to him with ease, he assumed it was something he’d learned before but hadn’t been on the testing.

  He took long walks at night through downtown, along Cherry Creek, wearing the clothes he’d borrowed from Jack. Zane hadn’t returned them to the deputy, but had given Jack a generous gift card to use for more sweats or whatever else he wanted. The oversized mismatched clothes, the hoodie pulled up and down to his forehead, the fact that he walked appearing to look down, all disguised the privilege that hid underneath.

  He had to find things to fill the vacuum that existed between Friday night and Monday morning. He would have been glad to go to work, but Roewynn wouldn’t be there. Nobody would be there. He bought a titanium bicycle and began punishing himself with ridiculously long and arduous mountain rides on weekends when the roads were dry enough to avoid slipping. The rides exhausted him to the point where he could sleep and, when he wasn’t at work, sleep was his only pleasure.