****
At a quarter to seven, Carmala sat at the dark wooden bar of Delmonico’s. She loved the place. She nursed her water with lemon as she gazed around the dark panels of wood, old artwork, and a pristine bar stocked with fine liquors. The bar had been around since the turn of the century. Back then, only wealthy and connected gentlemen patronized it. They’d sip their brandy and smoke a pipe or cigar while they discussed a business transaction or legal matter with their cronies. And now here she was. A successful businesswoman. On the brink of taking an amazing job opportunity. She smiled as pride filled her inner core.
“Hey, kiddo, good to see you.” A voice startled her out of her thoughts. Marc kissed her cheek. In typical Wall Street style, he wore a double-breasted pinstriped suit and had his thick black hair slicked back. She thought he was as handsome as he was brilliant.
“Why don’t we sit down?” He led her to an empty table in the bar area.
Marc pushed his menu aside. “I see you haven’t started to drink yet. Should we order manhattans?”
“Why not?” She could use a drink right about now.
He called the attention of a passing waiter. “We’ll take two manhattans up with Jameson’s, please.”
“Coming right away.” The waiter turned on his heel and headed to the bar.
Marc nodded in Carmala’s direction. “So the day has arrived. Are you ready to say goodbye to the androids?”
“More than you’ll ever know.”
“I tell you, Carmala, Synergy Plus has a great rep. I know Tom Johnson personally, and he has a lot of pull on our team on Wall Street. You’ll probably make a huge impact with his backing.”
The waiter served the manhattans, and Marc and Carmala clinked glasses.
She took a sip of her drink, enjoying the heat of the alcohol coursing down her throat. “Yes, but the accountant in me is worried about living on commission. There’s no security. No certain bottom line.”
“You’re worried about commission income?” Marc shook his head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. My commissions have paid for the house on Long Island, the BMW, the wife’s Mercedes, the apartment in midtown, and the kids’ college education funds. What else could I ask for?”
“Well, that’s because you don’t mind living a little on the edge. And you’re ballsy enough to make it happen.” Couldn’t she be as well?
“That’s true, but you’re going to hit it big time.” He waved a finger at her. “You’re a natural salesperson, and you have an affable personality. Besides, if you let this opportunity go, they won’t offer it to you again. You will have missed the proverbial boat.”
“I guess. It just makes me nervous.”
Marc drained his glass and plunked it on the table while motioning to the waiter to serve another round. “You shouldn’t have any doubts. Take the job and move forward. ASAP. No sense in wasting another day at Banter.”
Marc took out his phone and checked his messages midway through their conversation. Carmala tsked to herself. Why did he have to fool around with his cell phone? Wasn’t this her time? Yet, she had to be tolerant. She was the one getting his advice.
As she waited for him to finish, the waiter came by with the second round of drinks. Carmala idly glanced through the windows near the bar exit. The sky had suddenly darkened, and rain came down in sheets. A loud clap of thunder rattled the glasses hanging from the bar. The sound startled her.
But the thunder wasn’t the real cause of her shock. A man wearing a hoodie paced outside the window. She caught his eyes glaring at her.
Dear God. Guido. What the hell? He’d followed her.
Marc looked up from his phone. “Is something wrong, Carmala?”
She flashed a glance at Marc and then to the window.
He followed her gaze. “Who’s that guy? Is he someone you know?”
Carmala’s face burned with embarrassment. Guido was such an asshole. She cleared her throat. “Actually, he’s, er, my boyfriend, Guido. He expected me home. Ah…I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize to me. Should we invite him in?” Marc glanced at his watch. “Actually, I have to scoot. I have a date with my wife. But I think we’re about through here. If you have any further questions, give me a call.” He motioned to the waiter for the check. “This is an exciting opportunity for you. You shouldn’t hesitate to take it.” The waiter produced the check. Marc examined it and inserted money in the bill folder.
“You’ll make the right decision, Carmala—about the job. Call me if you need me.” He kissed her cheek and quickly exited the bar.
Stunned, Carmala sat there for a moment, feeling miffed and mortified. How could Guido embarrass her this way in front of Marc?
****
Guido barely kept dry under the narrow awning that surrounded Delmonico’s bar. Carmala’s friend had exited the door and breezed by him without a glance.
God! At least she could have come out and invited him in when the guy left. Yet she continued to drink and stare into space.
He entered the bar, strolled up to Carmala’s table as if it was his business, and sat down. “Was your meeting worth breaking our plans?”
“Guido, you embarrassed me.” She rubbed her temples.
“You stiffed me. We were supposed to work out.” She’d blown him off and lied. Thank goodness he’d located her with his new phone GPS application. She should be pleased he cared that much about her.
“I told you that I needed to consult…someone about my decision.”
“You said you were going to meet some people. Not a guy.” He refused to show how hurt he felt.
“It was Marc Blass. Not that it’s any of your business. I’ve mentioned him before. He’s one of the most influential men on Wall Street and a good contact. He knows the president at Synergy Plus, and I needed his advice. Besides, I don’t know why you’re worried. He’s married,” Carmala said with emphasis.
As angry as she was, he loved how her big hazel eyes lit up the bar’s darkness. How her long dark curls bounced as she spoke. She was so petite and fragile; all he wanted to do was protect her, to pull her into his arms and stop this argument.
The waiter approached their table and must have realized they were arguing because he did an about-face.
Good riddance.
“Marriage doesn’t mean anything. And I don’t like how he’s so familiar with you. I saw the way he kissed you. You said he has a wife and kids in Long Island, right?” He reached for his cell phone.
She tossed a wary look at his cell phone. “Yes, why?”
“So what’s the penthouse on Park Avenue for?” Poking at his cell, he searched for the appropriate application.
“Guido, how did you find me?” She glared at his phone.
“I have my ways, Carmala. Everything’s traceable with these things.” He dangled his device in triumph. “That’s the risk people take when they get this kind of technology. Cool stuff.” When she rolled her eyes, he hesitated but didn’t give her a chance to speak. Why didn’t she appreciate the lengths he’d go to protect her? “I’ll bet he has women on the side to bring to his lair. I could easily prove it to you. Then you’ll see I have a reason to worry about you.”
“It’s not his lair,” she blurted, her voice a screamed whisper. “His house is two-and-a-half hours away, and he stays in the city on late nights. Plenty of New Yorkers do the same thing. And you have no right to follow me around with that gadget. It’s despicable that you would resort to such ridiculousness. Do you think you own me?”
Guido could not fathom why her face flushed with anger. She had no clue how dangerous this city was. He should be the one who was upset. Guido blurted out, “You’re lucky I didn’t see anything going on, girl!” He just couldn’t stop himself and regretted the slip of his tongue as soon as he uttered it.
Her face turned two shades redder. He was on the brink of losing her, so he decided to change gears and appeal to her emotions. “You know I’m only a hardworkin
g electrician, not a Wall Street power monger like that guy Marc. I guess I’m not good enough for you, huh?”
Carmala abruptly pushed out her chair and stood. “Tell you what, Guido.” She jammed her arms into her coat. “You can take your GPS and shove it. I’m going home, by myself. Don’t you dare follow me!”
She walked out and left him sitting there.
To hell with her, he wasn’t going to waste his time following her. She’d come around. How could she not? He knew she loved him. She missed the entire point. She needed to realize he had only her best interests at heart.
Chapter Three
Carmala slammed her apartment door behind her, bolted, and chain-locked it. Relief washed over her. Guido hadn’t followed her or called her cell. Thank God. She put on her pajamas, made a chamomile tea, crawled on to the couch, and pulled a comforter over herself. But she needed to vent, and there was only one person to reach out to. One girl who’d totally understand her frustration. And even at nine o’clock on a Friday night, she’d bet her best friend Margo Spamozzi would still be at work.
Sure enough, Margo was at the office, working late as usual. She listened as Carmala recounted Guido’s jealous behavior at Delmonico’s.
“Carmala, you really need to get a grip. You’re constantly on an emotional roller coaster with him. One day you’re happy, the next day you’re not. Have you even listened to that expensive counselor?”
Margo was probably right about Guido, but Carmala didn’t want to hear it. Or maybe she didn’t want to face the truth. Margo always had a way of pointing out things Carmala didn’t want to see for herself. She and Margo had been close since high school. But when Carmala dropped out of the all-girls school in her junior year, they’d lost touch for a while. And ever since they’d reunited, Margo had assumed an air of superiority with Carmala. And she wasn’t sure this attitude would ever go away.
Not that Carmala had let anyone’s opinion stop her. As a teenager, she was told she couldn’t go to college without a high school diploma. In fact, she’d earned her GED and gone on to college. Even made the honors program. Sometimes rebellion spurred on action. At least, it always worked for her.
“We only went to counseling a couple of times,” she said. “Guido charmed the crap out of the counselor and made it seem like everything with our relationship was peaches and cream.”
“Personally, I can’t see how the counseling is worth your time or money. He’s not going to change.”
“The insurance paid for most of the expense.”
“You’re a bright, successful, and beautiful woman. Why hang out with a loser because he’s easy to look at?”
Usually Margo lent her most sympathetic ear. Perhaps Carmala had complained too much to Margo, and now she was tired of hearing about the Guido problems. Heck, Carmala was tired of talking about them. Yet she couldn’t help feeling chided. Couldn’t her friend just agree with her instead of preaching? This certainly wasn’t the expected reaction. Carmala turned on her television and searched through the recorded programs. “It’s not that simple.”
“I think you need to have a man around.”
Carmala bristled at the comment. “That’s not true. I came to Manhattan by myself and worked here close to a year before I met Guido.” Why should she have to defend herself? To her best friend, no less?
“You met him after only six months after your move, right? All I’m saying is that you’re not sixteen anymore. You should consider dating someone on your professional level. Someone like a stockbroker or business manager. You complain about the lack of intellectual stimulation Guido gives you, yet you go out with him. What the hell do you expect? I think he has a lot of personal hang-ups that you refuse to face, and you’re affected by them.”
Carmala’s defense mechanisms kicked in. “So what if he couldn’t go to college? He was the sole provider for himself and his mom. Besides, there’s a heck of a lot more to him. He’s an avid reader and quite supportive of my career, most times. And wonderful in bed.” What else could she say?
“You could train any man to be good in bed. He’s lucky to have you, Carmala. I still don’t get why you broke off with Bill Cicieri. Now he’s a successful stockbroker on Wall Street.”
Yeah, Bill. She loved him to death, but not that way. She had no regrets. They were good friends today, and that worked for both of them.
Carmala located her reality television shows on her DVR. Nothing like getting lost in the real housewives of society New York or Beverly Hills and forgetting her own problems. “It’s easy for you to condemn the relationship because you have Mr. Perfect in Timmy.” And Margo met him only because Carmala’s then boyfriend introduced Timothy Hopkins to Margo. She was one of the lucky few still with her high school sweetheart.
“It’s not all perfect, and it takes work. I’ve had to make a lot of sacrifices.”
“I know a good relationship doesn’t come easy.” The conversation was getting Carmala nowhere but annoyed. She wanted out of it. So much for venting. “I’m sorry I bothered you tonight.” She clicked an episode, pushed play, and set the volume low enough so Margo couldn’t hear it.
“It’s not a bother, Carmala. I want to see you happy.”
“I am happy.” Even though she overused her complaining privileges with Margo, she still loved her. “I wish we could spend some time together. I miss you.”
She hadn’t seen Margo in over a month, although they worked within twenty blocks of each other. However, as a top-producing loan officer at D.C. Mutual, Margo practically worked around the clock.
“We’ll get together for drinks next week. How does that sound?”
“Great. I look forward to it.” Like that would happen.
“Listen, I gotta go, I’ve got a client calling on the other line. Their deal is about to fall apart.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up.
Why was Margo so down on Guido? He did the best he could to keep up with Carmala.
She knew Guido’s behavior was erratic, strange, and even unhealthy. Yet he’d tried so hard to please her. He attended her black-tie affairs, hobnobbed with high-powered professionals, and maintained his poise and charm as best he could.
And she tried hard not to throw her profession in his face. She built him up and made him feel he did important work. Which he did. And now that she was considering a job with a potential seven-figure income, he had to feel even more inadequate.
Yet Guido’s childish jealousy annoyed her to no end. She’d caught him reading her texts and e-mails on her phone, and as for the stalking, it never surprised her when he unexpectedly popped up almost anywhere.
For some ungodly reason, and despite his flaws, she wanted to make the relationship work. She’d invested too much emotional energy to turn back now. But how could she make it work when Guido totally denied that his behavior was out of the ordinary? His illogical mind believed he was protecting her and that his actions proved he cared for her. He manipulated her. And while she wanted to give him due credit for all the good he did, she feared that if she continued to permit his behavior, her independence would be lost.
The stunt he pulled at Delmonico’s made her want to run from the relationship. He made her feel like his doormat. And he would continue to wipe his dirt off on her until doomsday. Margo was right about his hang-ups affecting her. Maybe she had concentrated so much effort on making things work that she glazed over how his behavior really affected her.
Maybe she was simply dating beneath her.
She turned up the volume on the show in progress. Her kitties crawled up on the couch to cuddle with her. At least she had her furry friends. But even the comfort of her pets couldn’t prevent memories of a long-ago past from creeping in her consciousness.
She’d dropped out of high school to be with her first boyfriend, Anthony Forchello. What started as a fairy-tale romance had ended with one too many black eyes. She’d been weak, almost helpless, and no matter what had happened in her life, she vowe
d she’d never go there again.
She cringed at the very thought of being struck by a man again. A man she’d been intimate with. Violence at the hand of someone she believed she loved was the ultimate insult. Would Guido be so blinded by his own jealousy that he, too, would resort to violence?
She shuddered. No way. She didn’t have that kind of relationship with Guido.
Or did she?
****
After the conversation with Carmala, Margo sighed. She had no life. Why couldn’t she get her work done during normal business hours? Here it was, after nine o’clock on a Friday night, and she was the only one left in the office. As usual.
Bored with the dead-end mortgage file in front of her, she considered Carmala’s relationship with Guido. What was it that kept her emotionally tied to him? He wasn’t right for her. And why did Carmala continue to hold hope that Guido would be what she expected in a partner?
Ever since high school, Carmala had made poor decisions about her relationships with the opposite sex. Her boyfriend at the time, Dan—the one who introduced Margo to Timothy—was a nice guy. For a while, they’d double-dated. Then Carmala suddenly broke off with him, and everything went downhill from there.
Carmala’s real problems started when she picked that grease-head Anthony. Maybe Margo wouldn’t have severed her ties with her back then if she hadn’t lied. Carmala had used Margo as her alibi for many fibs to her parents. If Carmala’s parents hadn’t slapped a restraining order on the guy and threatened him with charges of statutory rape, Carmala may never have found the right path again.
After not speaking to her in years, Carmala had reached out to Margo in college. And Margo couldn’t have been prouder of her younger friend when she’d been admitted to college with only a GED. Not that a GED wasn’t acceptable. It obviously worked for her. But Carmala could have graduated from a private high school with honors.
Margo still couldn’t get over the fact that she dumped Bill Cicieri. At least he had his shit together.
If Carmala had only followed Margo’s example. Timmy was a good husband, did well as a professor in the Department of Economics at the prestigious Tate University. He’d never get in the way of Margo’s career, like Guido, who she feared would derail Carmala. Timmy was her constant beacon of support. The perfect man.
Having Fun with Mr. Wrong Page 3
