Love Stuck

by Michele De Winton

  He came up for air, and the challenge in his eyes ripped through her like a knife. Sass saw him for an instant, then, the man he could be, and it unnerved her. That man, the one with bright ambition, who wanted to prove to his doubting parents that he could be everything, the one who did care what others thought of him and would do anything to show it. The man who would risk it all if he thought it would make the world change; that man was someone she liked. Someone she really liked.

  She hadn’t been looking for a man. Hell, she hardly even dated. Right now was all about starting up her business, showing New York that she was the best there was because she brought the best out of people. Here was a man who was her biggest challenge yet and she did like a challenge.

  Then his hands were on her breasts, and all thought disappeared again. His tongue was on her neck, his breath in her hair and she wanted him, oh she wanted all of him.

  Then, BING.

  A cool blast of air blew over Sass’s skin, and she registered a noise somewhere far away.

  “Oh my god. This is the best wedding ever. This is too perfect.” It was Cara’s voice. Cara laughing.

  Sass pulled back from Kirk, and her jaw dropped.

  “Oh shit.” Kirk backed away from her, fast, and she missed his warmth straight away.

  But oh shit was right. Sass grabbed her top from the floor and quickly held it across her front. The doors of the elevator were open. Wide open. And in the space between them crowded the faces of too many of the wedding party to count. Cara’s was stretched in a grin, and a few of the men behind her had lascivious smirks on their faces. Sass pulled her top closer. Thank god, she’d managed to get the rest of her clothes back on.

  Kirk was quickly doing up his shirt and had his jacket already on, his face stony. “Nothing more to see here people. Move along.”

  Several of the wedding party did just that and filtered back into the main room, making the audience in front of them smaller, to Sass’s eternal gratitude.

  Joe Diaz stood beside his bride. “Well, I have to give it to you, Anderson, you sure know how to steal a moment.”

  “Your lift broke down, Diaz.”

  Instead of faltering at the abrupt criticism, Joe threw back his head and laughed. “That it did. Looks like you made the best of the situation though. Sass is one great stylist. I wouldn’t have picked the disheveled look fitting in in the Anderson boardroom, but it actually suits you.”

  “Ms Hunt is not in my employ and likely never will be. Her ideas on how to run a business are ridiculous.”

  Sass felt the words as if they were brightly sharpened blades. One by one they pierced through her skin, stuck between her ribs and headed for her heart.

  “Hey,” Cara’s voice was loud with shock. “Hang on a minute there.”

  “No. I’ve been hanging on far too long. This was nothing more than a terrible accident.”

  Sass blinked and her vision cleared. “Say what you really think.”

  “I always do. And I’ve come to expect the same from you. Only I neither care nor agree with anything you have to say. People don’t change, not who they really are. It’s time you figured that out and left me alone.”

  There was a collective gasp among the remaining guests, and Sass felt the blades twist deeper into her torso.

  “Congratulations on your wedding, Diaz. Get this lift fixed. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll take the stairs.”

  The elevator pinged, impatient to get going again now that it had rediscovered its purpose. For a moment, Sass thought about letting the doors shut and just slumping down in the corner, but as Kirk disappeared through the crowd, Cara and her mother bustled in and enfolded her in a cocoon of perfume and silk. She opened her mouth to speak, but there was nothing left to say. She was numb. Shocked. Broken.

  8.

  “Mrs Horan!” Kirk paced his office, and every time his blue river painting caught his eye he scowled at it. “Power of water running through it. What a load of garbage.”

  “Sir?” Mrs Horan stalked into the room, a notebook in hand and a sympathetic look on her face.

  “What?”

  “You called me in.”

  Kirk straightened. “I did.” He racked his brain for what he’d wanted then saw the survey report Mike Brand had sent through about their public image on his desk. “I still need something to wear to this press conference. Something less formal than a suit, apparently. The results from the polling data were very clear. I don’t know why it matters, it’s the product that’s on show, not me, but I’m not going to argue with statistics.”

  Mrs Horan didn’t say anything but nodded, not meeting his eyes, and pretended to note something down.

  His eyebrows rocketed up. “What did you just write down?”

  She held up her empty notebook. “Caught me.”

  “I know. You’re not very good at that.”

  A small smile crept onto her lips finally. “That I am not. I’ve always been told to speak my mind.”

  Irritation got the better of him, and he snapped. “Well, go on then. Don’t just stand there with that look of…what is that? Sympathy? Why are you feeling sorry for me of all people?”

  His secretary looked at her notebook again as if testing out what to say before she opened her mouth. “I heard about what happened at the wedding.”

  “Yes. Well.” Kirk said with as much bluster as he had in him. “It should never have happened. Diaz should pay better attention to the infrastructure of his assets.”

  When she looked puzzled, he said in frustration, “the elevator, Mrs Horan. The elevator. If it hadn’t broken down, I wouldn’t have had to talk Ms Hunt off her claustrophobic cliff.”

  “Ah. I see.” And it looked like she did see. Not that he had been more embarrassed than he’d thought humanly possible, but that what had gone on, what Sarah Hunt had said to him, had unnerved him more than he wanted to admit.

  “So, something other than a suit, Mrs Horan. Can you arrange it?”

  She paused, clearly deciding whether to say anything or not.

  “Spit it out, whatever it is, I know you want to.”

  “The woman, Sass, she left one of her jackets here. I haven’t quite managed to get it on a courier yet.”

  He frowned. “I haven’t seen it.”

  “It was down the side of the sofa. It went down to dispatch to go back to her and then ended up coming back up again. The address was wrong. Wait a minute.” She left the office and came back with the leather jacket.

  Kirk rolled his eyes. “You too?”

  “It’s not a suit.”

  She’d never confronted him like this before. Not so blatantly, and if it had been anyone but her he wouldn’t have taken it. But Mrs Horan had been with him forever. She knew things about him that others only guessed at.

  “You don’t need to decide now. The event isn’t till tomorrow. I’ll get some other options sent up.” She looked at her watch. “You have a meeting with Mike Brand now.”

  Kirk frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

  “He scheduled it last night. Last minute. Shall I send him in?”

  “What’s it about?”

  “He wouldn’t say.”

  Kirk waved a hand, and Mrs Horan went to leave but when she got to the door she turned. “Tread gently with this one.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that. You have more friends here than you know, you just need to let them know that you need them. You can’t do this all by yourself, as much as you might like to. No one could.”

  Mike Brand, the CEO of Anderson’s Investment Wealth, didn’t mess about. “I’m leaving.”

  If he hadn’t been sitting down, Kirk might have sagged against his desk. “I’m sorry, I thought you just said you were leaving.”

  “I did.” Mike stood and started pacing the office, and Kirk felt lost behind his desk so stood too.

  For a change, Kirk didn’t say anything, just watched his CEO pace. Mike had
been his virtual second in command for the last two years. He was smart. Smarter even than Kirk, but he had a lot to learn still, and wasn’t shy to admit it. It was what tipped the balance for Kirk in giving him the CEO position. Someone who knew what they didn’t know was far more useful to him than someone who thought they knew it all.

  “I’ve been offered a job at Richmond Wealth. You know I worked with Daniella when I first got here. We’ve kept in contact. She’s doing some great work over there.”

  Now Kirk’s jaw dropped, and it took him a moment to register the full impact of what Mike had said. But when it sunk in, got below his skin and started infiltrating his muscles, the anger found him. “You can’t. There’s a restraint of trade clause in your contract.”

  “I know. Eighteen months, but Daniella is prepared to wait. And between me and Molly, we have enough saved to make it through. I’m young. I’ve got time to start over.”

  Kirk gulped back his impulse to sound incredulous and kept his voice calm. “It can hardly be on the same scale as what you’re making here. Her outfit runs on pennies compared to Anderson’s.”

  “It’s smaller sure. But it’s dynamic. Their margins are tight, and their returns are lower than Anderson’s, but their flow through is fantastic, and their expansion model is something else. They have the backing and the market share to do big things. I’d bet real money that she’s going to have three subsidiary companies under her belt by the end of the year.”

  “Is it about money? I thought we had you on a generous package–”

  Mike held up a hand. “It’s not about money. I know that’s a strange thing for a finance guy to say, but this has nothing to do with money.”

  Kirk paused again and forced himself to take a breath. “Your wife is on board with this? I thought you were going to start a family?

  “We were. We are. Just in a year or so now.”

  That got him. That someone was willing to put off building their family so they could stop working for him. Kirk sat heavily and rubbed his forehead.

  “I’m sorry. I know you’ve given me a great opportunity here.”

  “But not great enough.”

  The silence lengthened, and Kirk heard Sass’s voice in his head. Let go of whatever is tying you up so tight Anderson, or you’ll find everything you think is so important is as cold as your cryogenically frozen heart. “Am I cold?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Cold. Am I a cold person?”

  Up until this point, Mike had held himself straight. He’d been nervous, Kirk realized. Now he softened a little. “You’re efficient and driven. Everyone respects that about you.”

  “But no one likes me. Hell, you’re willing to put having a family on hold so you can go and work for my competitor.”

  Mike bit his lip. “That is part of it. Sorry. But it’s difficult to work with someone who won’t let anyone in. I mean, at all. You’ve built an incredible business Kirk, but there’s not a lot of joy in it. And I just don’t see where I go from here if I stay.”

  “What has joy got to do with business?”

  “When you get to our level, everything,” Mike said.

  That made Kirk sit back. “And Daniella is fun?”

  Mike shrugged. “Sure. She likes to have a laugh. But more than that. She wants to celebrate with the people she surrounds herself with. Richmond Wealth has an incredible development team. There are a couple of bright young things working next to old pros, and the energy there is fantastic. I’d get to be a part of a team that is willing to take big risks for big rewards. I don’t know if I’d ever get that here.”

  “Energy?”

  Now Mike smiled. “I know. Never thought I’d hear myself say anything like that about a finance company. But it is. They’ll be in Asia soon, and then they’re off. And I want to be part of it.”

  Kirk looked up at the blue painting on his wall. The veins still ran through it. The gold flecks in it were dull at this time of the day, but it was still beautiful. Powerful. Despite the bombshell Mike had just dropped, the image of water flowed in the painting like nothing would ever stop it. It calmed him. He was driven to be powerful too, like water. To be the biggest, the strongest, the best. That was why he’d wanted the spot on the Forbes list in the first place. That took discipline and focus and a willingness to turn away from anything that might jeopardize that success. But perhaps somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten that to succeed and to live, really live, you had to take risks.

  “Have you signed with her yet?” Kirk asked his CEO.

  “No. I’m meeting with her this afternoon. I wanted to tell you first. But it’s happening. I’m sorry.”

  A burst of sunlight broke free from behind a cloud, and one of the veins of gold in the painting shone as if spotlit. It was a brilliant focus at the center of all that blue. A line of warmth. An idea started forming in Kirk’s mind. One he couldn’t believe had ever made it into his consciousness. An idea that even Sarah Hunt would approve of. “Give me till after the product launch. Can you do that?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Kirk walked Mike Brand out of the office and beckoned to Mrs Horan to follow him back inside. She followed, her face etched with worry.

  “Cancel everything today.”

  “I had a feeling it might be bad news, but you shouldn’t let it get to you—”

  Kirk held up a hand. “I have an idea. I’m going to try on that leather jacket, and you’re going to tell me, honestly, if I can pull it off and not look like a total ass.”

  Her smile was as bright as the sun still streaming through the window. With it, Kirk felt a quick thrill of energy rush through him. He could do this. He would do this.

  9.

  Sass checked her inbox again. Nothing. She flicked over to social media. Nothing. She’d checked her feed so often that the same stories were rotating over and over and she’d read all of them. Worse, there were no messages. Nada. Nil. Zip. Her phone was resolutely silent, and her bank account was…empty. Nothing had come of the cards she’d given out at Cara’s wedding, and with Kirk Anderson’s office still not having sent back the leather jacket, she was looking at going bust, fast.

  Standing, she started to pace the room. It was only 150 square feet, so it didn’t take long. God, her apartment was a mess. No, more than a mess. Her apartment was a nightmare of unfinished projects and half-fulfilled dreams. Her sewing machine sat on the kitchen table, a stack of fabric beside it from where she’d decided to make some accessories for a client she’d thought loved her at Helen Bernstein’s. In the corner were a couple of old wooden crates she was going to turn into bookshelves. And in the kitchenette… “That’s just gross.” She walked over the bench and tossed last night’s pizza and the melted remnants of a tub of double choc-chip ice cream into the trash before they added cockroaches to her list of woes.

  The phone rang, and she dived for it. “Hunters and Collectors. Sass speaking.”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “Oh.” Sass slumped.

  “Nice to talk to you too.” Cara’s voice was bright. Too bright.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”

  “I’m at the airport.”

  “Oh. Right.” The envy rippled through Sass. She didn’t resent her friend’s happiness, not for a moment. But did she wish she had what Cara now had? Absolutely.

  “Hey. You’re too quiet. I can hear your brain eating you up from the inside.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Business not so great then?”

  “I’m sure it’ll pick up,” Sass lied. Who had she been kidding when she thought she could start her own business with so little collateral and no reputation?

  The silence grew, and Sass felt the need to fill it. “I’m so sorry again. For ruining your wedding. I’ve been having flashbacks, and it can’t have been pretty.”

  Cara’s laugh was loud in her ear, and Sass recoiled. “Oh, honey. If h
e hadn’t been such an ass to you it would have been the highlight of the day.” Sass heard a male voice muttering in the background and remembered, of course, they were at the airport. Joe was sitting right next to her friend. “Except for the part where I married Joe of course.” There was a short male laugh and Sass pictured the two of them sitting on a shared seat, their heads together. “I can’t believe you got stuck in the elevator and then…I still wanna laugh when I remember the look on his face when the doors first opened.”

  Sass didn’t even want to think about the look on his face. It had been painful. Embarrassment that quickly turned to disdain. When he’d said those things about her, his lip had curled like he was talking about a flea infested rat. A flea infested rat who had threatened to bite him and infect him with some lethal and painful disease. She had never felt so small. Especially after she’d just shared so much personal stuff with him only minutes before. Personal and intimate. Oh god, she wanted to hide under her bed and never come out again. It was probably a good thing she didn’t have any clients. How would she ever look them in the eye and not think they were snickering about her behind her back to their friends.

  “He had no right to talk about you like that. He’s an uptight prick, and you can tell him I said that.”

  Sass sighed. “Hopefully I’m never going to see him again.”

  “That’s my girl.” Then, as if Cara was reading her mind, she said. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, most people had left by then, and those that were there are pretty close friends. They’d never blab.”

  Well, at least there was that. “Bastard still has one of my jackets.”

  “Send him a bill. He can afford it.”

  “I’m going to. But anyway. You’re about to head overseas. Go enjoy your life. You’ve earned it.”

  Cara was silent a moment, and Sass thought she was going to ring off. “Don’t let people like Kirk Anderson get under your skin, babe. I remember that feeling. I locked myself in a hotel room with my dogs and ate chocolate for a week when I thought I’d lost everything. It wasn’t pretty. And then Joe came through for me. This is going to happen for you, okay? I know it is. When I get back, we’re going to go through Joe’s phone book and call all the wives of the fancy pants guys he’s been playing golf with the last ten years. You’ll be so busy you’ll look back at this time longingly.”