North Star

by Angeline M. Bishop

  Graham’s expression was a mask of stone. “It doesn’t matter how I know, Laila. What matters is if it’s true.” He watched her intently and noticed when her trembling hand rubbed the side of her neck.

  She managed to reply through stiff lips. “I want you to appreciate how gifted he is. I really believe he could be an asset to our staff.”

  “What?” Graham interjected in such a tone that the people within earshot turned and stared, before returning to their meals. He took note of his demeanor and began to lower his voice. “Need I remind you that I make the hiring decisions at Psyche, and I’m not looking for a writer? What you need to do is tell your boyfriend to look for a job on his own and stop having my sister crawl on her knees to get his work published.”

  Laila swallowed hard, in an attempt to contain her anger when Gray stepped in. “Okay, okay, you two. Laila realizes Malcolm is out, but that was a low blow, Boss.”

  Realizing he might be close to losing one of his best feature editors, and causing a sibling war, Graham backed down. “I’m sorry, but the truth had to be said. I gave him a chance to be seen, but he still has to walk the pavement and try to make his way without the benefit of his woman. My sister will not be used in this manner. I won’t allow it!” He could see Laila’s eyes fill with tears of frustration, which was so unlike her. What the hell is he doing to her? Where is the fire and vigor she always serves up just as quickly as I bark?

  Graham softened his voice and covered her hand with his own. “Laila, I can’t sit here and color it any other shade of blue than true. You have to tell him you aren’t going to hunt for work for him anymore.”

  “I thought...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes left his concerned gaze.

  “I know what you thought, but you can’t help him stand on his own if he’s busy leaning on you. Tell him you believe he can achieve his goals, then stand back and watch him try.”

  Gray patted her shoulder and added, “That’s the only way he’ll be the kind of man you can be proud to walk next to.”

  “Just forget that I called this meeting, Graham.”

  “Done, don’t think about it. Affairs of the heart can cause people to do some crazy things,” he said as he thought of his phone call to the Mason Center last night. “I always want every issue to be a place where different viewpoints are heard. Okay guys?”

  “Okay,” Laila and Gray said in unison.

  “Great, so with that settled, who’s picking up the check?” Graham asked, waving over the steward.

  Laila and Gray’s jaws dropped at the thought of paying for the expensive meal. As the waiter placed the check before him, Gray said, “Luckily, you are.”

  The rest of Graham’s day progressed rapidly and before he knew it, it was four o’clock. He picked a gray suit from his office closet, showered, and changed in his bathroom. During the last Psyche renovation, he had a locked cabinet installed so he could have a few personal items at his disposal. He needed it for times when he worked at his desk all night and didn’t have a chance to go home and change.

  A knock at the door caught Graham as he was tying his tie. “Come in.”

  “Wow, don’t you look like a crisp dollar bill.” Kathy’s eyes widened in astonishment when she popped her head into his office to say goodbye.

  “Thanks. What time does the florist close? I want to take some flowers over to Jan’s.”

  “Already done, I had the flowers scheduled for delivery at five with a card that reads, ‘I know the food will be wonderful tonight. I’ll see you soon. Love, Graham.’ I hope that was okay?”

  “Perfect.” He checked himself in the mirror. “I was also wondering if—”

  “If Ms. Aldana called to confirm your dinner meeting? Yes, sir. She’ll be here in a half-hour.”

  Graham glanced over his shoulder at the woman that may have created a remedy for his scheduling problem and gave a boyish grin. “Very well. Thanks for everything, Kathy. You had better get out of here. You know how the traffic gets in the summer.”

  She nodded and turned to get her belongings from her desk. “Have a great weekend, and give my best to your sister and brother-in-law.”

  “I will. See you Monday.”

  “Till then.” With a parting wave, Kathy left his office.

  Laila Sheridan took a deep breath as she entered the Psyche elevator. This was the part of the day she hated. The walk from her office to the parking garage was nerve-racking, but it was the elevator itself that caused her stomach to tie itself in knots.

  Lunch with Gray and Graham removed any remaining illusion she had about her private life being private. She needed to face the fact that her relationship with Malcolm continued to be the hot topic of office gossip as long as she continued to pitch his articles to Graham. She caught her breath quickly when the elevator halted its descent to let two administrative assistants onboard.

  She knew from their quick glances and muffled laughter that they’d heard she was sleeping with Malcolm Khalid. Part of her was flattered the young women were enthralled with her love life, but the businesswoman in her knew such information undermined her professional credibility.

  She could no longer deny it. Everyone was privy to her intimate dealings with Malcolm, so she decided right there on the spot to put an end to her obvious promotion of his writing.

  Laila tightened her jaw as she thought of the yelling match that would ensue when she informed Malcolm. He would threaten to end their relationship because of her lack of loyalty and before she could mention other avenues he could use to get published, he would rehash old discussions to bolster his claims of relationship incompatibility. The last thing she needed was more of his drama. The deadlines Graham had placed on her were already causing her to work late every night this week.

  What she needed was a good night’s sleep. She’d spotted Graham’s worried expression during their lunch meeting. She was trying her best to put on a good front, but the lack of any fashion flare had definitely caught her older brother’s attention. And Gray’s comment in jest about not seeing her legs for decades had made Graham frown.

  Stirred from her thoughts, Laila noticed in the mirrored panels of the elevators that one of the ladies glanced down at her left hand, then shook her head negatively to her colleague. The action was obvious. They were confirming speculations about Malcolm’s intentions. Hell, she thought, I’m wondering the answer to that myself.

  The relationship has been in a holding pattern for months after their trip to his parents’ home down south. It’d been about a year and all the talk of matrimony suddenly stopped, at his request, of course. God forbid a twenty-nine-year-old woman let her boyfriend know she wants to spend the rest of her life with him, she fumed when the elevator finally reached her stop.

  Laila squared her shoulders and strolled past the ladies as they suddenly clustered together to whisper their comments. Their hushed words didn’t reach her ears, but pain infiltrated her heart all the same.

  Caresse searched her jewelry box for the right earrings to complete her outfit, while her kitchen became a buzz of activity. Her cousin, Diane, and her oldest daughter, Nyla, happily made chocolate chip cookies as an inquisitive Messina watched her mother run around her bedroom in preparation for her dinner meeting with Graham Sheridan.

  Part of Caresse wondered why she was making such a fuss. It’s not a date, she thought as placed the sundress back on the hanger and moved toward the suits in her closet. It’s strictly business. She repeated the words in the hopes of creating a mantra that would break the eagerness coursing through her veins. The last time she ate dinner with a man she wasn’t related to was over eight months ago. And before him, nothing, unless you count her dinners with McDreamy and McStreamy of ABC’s Grey’s Anatomy. At the moment, her life was a little too hectic with her class preparation for the center and the constant juggle of her daughters’ social calendar to think of finding room for a man.

  What a sad state of affairs when your pre-teen daughters have more
of a social life than their parent. And to think I couldn’t wait to be an adult, she mumbled as she rummaged her jewelry box.

  “What do you think?” Caresse said as turned to Messina and held two different earrings up to her ears. “The dangling bluish ones or the button greenish ones?”

  “Hmm”, the seven-year-old pondered with a finger on her chin.

  “Now, think hard. Is Mommy’s dress more aqua blue or turquoise green?”

  “Aqua blue!”

  “I agree, so the bluish ones have won a chance to listen to my meeting tonight.” She laughed as she charged her daughter, who was sitting on the bed, to tickle her stomach.

  Giggles filled the room as the little one rolled around the bed to avoid being touch. “Stop, Mommy. I don’t want to have an accident.”

  “Okay, okay,” Caresse said as she returned to her vanity to place the earrings securely in her ears.

  Suddenly, a loud yell for cookies came from the kitchen. Caresse grabbed her Prada purse and placed her daughter on her back to carry her downstairs. The smell of cookies made her mouth water with each step toward the kitchen as Messina’s lip smacking revealed the little one eagerly awaiting a warm cookie, too.

  At the kitchen counter were apron-clad and flour-covered Diane and Nyla. They were happily consuming some of the chocolate chip cookies that decorated all of the counter space.

  “Wow! You two weren’t kidding when you said you were going to make a lot of cookies. Do I even have any brown sugar or chocolate chips left?”

  “No,” Diane said, extending a warm cookie to Caresse. “But don’t worry. I added them to your shopping list.”

  “Oh, Geez, thanks.” Caresse took a bite and lowered Messina from her back to the stool beside the counter. With a mouth full of a very delicious cookie, she motioned Diane closer. “Now, you have my new cell phone number, right?

  “Yes, unless you woke up this morning and decided to change it once again.”

  Caresse sighed. She didn’t want to change her number, but recently she began getting hang ups and unlisted numbers calling her at random times. She was sure the caller was harmless, but she didn’t need the headache.

  “Good. I’ve packed the girls’ suitcases with enough clothes for a few weeks. What time will you be leaving?”

  “In another hour or so, once there’s a break in the rain. Hey, what time do you want them back?”

  “Make it six ‘o clock in the evening, if that’s not a problem. That way I’ll have time to look for some shoes to match the dress Yvette gave me for the fundraiser.”

  “Six is great! I’ll probably have a hard time pulling the girls away the beach house in the afternoon anyway.” Diane hugged her cousin. “I hope you have a nice date.”

  “Meeting!” Caresse corrected as she walked over to kiss and hug her daughters tightly. The last thing she wanted was Nyla getting overly concerned with her mother dating. The divorce had been especially hard on her, and she saw it as her duty to protect her mother from men that would make her mother sad. “Have a great time, girls, and leave me some cookies!”

  She grabbed her purse, the Mason Center discussion materials, and quickly headed toward the garage door.

  When Caresse arrived at the Psyche headquarters in downtown Toms River, an almost bare parking lot greeted her. You can sure tell they love Fridays, she thought as she pulled into one of the empty visitors’ parking spaces. She quickly made her way through the rain with the help of an oversized black umbrella. Once inside, she headed toward the security desk.

  “Can I help you, Miss?” The officer grinned as he took in her appearance from head to toe. For a brief moment, his face reminded her of a cartoon wolf licking his lips and rubbing his hands in greedy appreciation. Maybe the suit was a little too much.

  “I’m looking for Mr. Sheridan’s office,” she said as she refastened her umbrella and placed it next to her like a regal cane.

  “Do you have an appointment, pretty lady?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  He searched a log of names. “You are?”

  “Ms. Aldana.”

  “Ms.?” He bent his head and studied Caresse’s annoyed face. “ID, please.”

  Caresse produced her driver’s license to confirm her identity and was instructed take the elevator to the twentieth floor. The building was more impressive inside than she had imagined. It made her feel like she’d stepped into a New York high-rise.

  When the elevator stopped at the executive suites, deep earth tones accented with gold greeted her. A picture of an oversized anniversary issue of Psyche with actors Terrence Howard, DB Woodside, and Morris Chestnut on the cover was displayed over the receptionist area to welcome visitors. Now that’s some image to work under, she thought, knowing Ms. Rogers would never allow good-looking men to decorate on the office walls. As she approached Graham’s office, she noticed the Psyche logo tastefully displayed on the glass doors that separated the reception area from Graham’s. One wall near the conference room featured the editors of the major divisions of the magazine. Graham’s picture was at the top as owner and editor-in-chief.

  Caresse stopped to study Graham’s image. He said he was an editor–some understatement, she thought as she admired the way the photographer had captured his personality perfectly.

  When she entered Graham’s office area, he was facing away from his open door, staring at his computer. At closer inspection, she realized he also had a telephone to his ear. His body was rigid as he glared at his computer screen. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed by what he was viewing or what he was hearing, but he was definitely upset.

  She started to move toward the receptionist’s area so he could finish his call in private, but he took note of her and motioned her forward with the wave of his hand.

  Graham was almost ready to yell into the phone with all the fury of a hurricane when Caresse had appeared in his office doorway. The moment his eyes met hers, he became entranced by her radiance. The look of concern on her face made her endearing, and he wanted reassure her that the caller on the other end of the phone wasn’t anyone to be concerned about, but all he could offer was a reluctant smile and wave of his hand.

  As she began floating around his office, looking at his art and books, he decided Malcolm Khalid wasn’t going to spoil his evening by making him lose his cool. He’d worked too hard to make this night work out.

  “Listen, I’ve already made my decision regarding this matter. There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.” He listened a moment longer as Khalid explained why Laila had pleaded his case. Fed up, Graham finally stated, “Look, I’ve said all I care to say and I’ve heard all I care to hear.”

  Graham hung up the phone and watched Caresse finger a traditional Japanese puzzle box he’d picked up during his travels. It was designed over one-hundred years ago in the Hakone region of Japan. It required twenty-seven moves to open. A detailed parquetry landscape was featured on the top. He hoped she would be tempted to open it.

  She wore a turquoise slip dress with a matching linen jacket. Her hair was swept up in a topknot with tendrils of curls softly caressing her forehead, neck, and ears. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. As he stood and walked over to join her, he was tempted to slip her jacket to the floor and get a better look at the tantalizing body that had captivated him at the library. Instead, he glanced at the umbrella in her hand and asked, “How bad is it pouring outside?”

  “It’s not too bad. I made it unharmed.” She had no idea how sensuous her voice sounded. Her closeness was intoxicating to him.

  “Yes, you did, and may I say you look beautiful.”

  The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of her mouth as she placed the box back in its place. “Thank you.

  “Caresse? Is it okay if we use first names?”

  “Of course.”

  “Caresse, there’s been a little change in plans. I already had an engagement to attend this evening when I made our dinner meet
ing.”

  Caresse stood motionless in the middle of the room as she processed his words. “Don’t worry, we can reschedule this for another time.”

  “Nonsense. My sister invited me over for a home-cooked meal, and I was hoping you would accompany me. I mean, I hope my sister feeding us would be more appealing than a dinner served by one of New Jersey’s brilliant, hot-headed chefs.”

  Caresse asked, “Are you referring to a certain temperamental chef that’s rumored to cause a scene if you send your plate back for any reason?”

  “Ocean County’s best. According to a reliable food critic, if you’re brave enough to do such a thing, he’ll come to your table and demand to know what’s wrong with your taste buds. That is before he wraps up your food and throws you out.”

  “Really?”

  Graham nodded, and with a raised eyebrow, his eyes shifted toward his trashcan filled with takeout containers beside him. The evidence of dining out frequently and the boyish grin on his face took Caresse by surprise.

  Laughter roared from both of them. “I wouldn’t want to spoil your sister’s dinner with talk about the Mason Center.”

  “You wouldn’t. We can talk after. I have my tape recorder right here.” He patted his pocket.

  “Okay, I guess it will beat eating alone.”

  The shock of her statement hit him full force. He couldn’t imagine her sitting at home alone, with the way she was making him feel. Things were looking up. He made a mental note to reward Kathy with a three-day weekend this month. She’d told him to tell Caresse the truth, then make her laugh. It sounded too simple to work, but once again, Kathy was right on the money. “That’s the spirit. Let’s go, we’ll take my car.”

  Caresse froze. She shifted indignantly on her heels as her eyebrow rose inquiringly. “Graham, I’d prefer to follow you.”

  Graham blinked, then focused his gaze on her, sensing a sudden uneasiness. She caught him by surprise to suggest such a thing. He wasn’t some overbearing sexual deviant that needed to trap a woman in order to have sex. She had nothing to fear. The look of slight trepidation in her eyes made him want to reassure her of his intentions, but he reassessed the situation. She’s only protecting herself, he thought. We’re technically strangers.