Margo quickly read the documents. Timmy didn’t ask for a single thing, as he’d promised. He left her the house. Well, she did pay for it.
It was all there in black and white, the end of her marriage. Bright yellow stickers and an arrow instructing her to “sign here” were placed at all the appropriate places. A prepaid return envelope was provided. How very efficient of his attorney’s office. She was expected to sign and return, just like that.
The pain in Margo’s chest made it hard to breathe. Tears knotted at the back of her throat and threatened to choke her. But she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She crawled under her desk, curled into a fetal position, with the papers clutched to her chest like some well-worn teddy bear. Sobs wracked her body. She didn’t care if the entire office heard. It hurt so damned much. Her marriage was gone. Ended. Forever. She’d never get it back. Never get Timmy back. He didn’t love her anymore.
The grief of it all overwhelmed her. In his eyes, she was a small and insignificant nothing—a tiny wave tossed on an entire sea of regrets, late nights at the office, and missed opportunities.
She didn’t know how long she’d cried when, finally, she emerged from the shelter of her desk. How would she ever carry on? She didn’t know, but she’d figure it out. Somehow. She picked up the packet of papers again, affixed her signature at the appropriate places, carefully assembled them, and placed them in the envelope. Then she reached into her bag, took out her compact, and fixed her face.
Additional instructions informed her that the court would process and finalize the divorce within ninety days. Unless she had objections to the settlement, she wasn’t required to show up in court. The judge would simply rubber-stamp the paperwork.
Her marriage would end with a rubber stamp.
She was okay with that, really she was. She sniffled and grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk. Enough tears, she had to pull herself together. She had a lot to live for. There were brighter days ahead, right?
On the way home, she dropped the package at FedEx.
That night, she lay in what once was Timothy’s and her bed, realizing that she would never sleep next to Timmy again.
Maybe she did need to make an appointment with a therapist, after all.
****
Margo made a new year’s resolution to be more social with the staff at her office. She still ate her lunch at her desk, but occasionally she had lunch with others.
One day Dan poked his head in her office, and she waved him in.
He sat down with nostrils flaring and such a fierce look she feared she might be in trouble again. But no, it couldn’t have been, she’d been on her best behavior. This couldn’t be about her.
He huffed. “Have you heard? Earl is being laid off. Along with two of our administrative staff.”
Earl was one of the underwriters whose ass she most respectfully kissed. If he didn’t approve her application files, they weren’t going anywhere. Only, Earl had a throat problem, and he would constantly clear his throat. Every time she spoke to him, he interrupted the flow of conversation with the noise. It was hugely disruptive and really grated on Margo’s nerves. At some level, she was glad he was leaving. “So we’re not going to have any local underwriting?”
“Nope, everything is going to be done at the processing center. You’ll be the only one with an assistant now. But your production still supports it. I’m going to have to ask you for a favor, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Could you share Sandy with the other staff members? She’ll be the only admin we’ll have left.”
Times were changing. Business had slowed. Time for her to end the prima donna act. “It’s fine by me.”
“All right, good. Keep up the good work with Sandy.”
During the next few weeks, Margo learned that D.C. Mutual was falling apart. Upper management in San Jose, California, told the branch manager to close shop and move into the savings branches. Loan officers’ positions would be eliminated, but they could reapply for a similar position for about a third of the commissions. What a damned joke! As expected, unhappy loan officers left in a mass exodus.
She wasn’t immune to it all. She figured it was some misguided attempt by upper management to weed out the nonproducers. As far as she was concerned, there’d only be more business for her. Maybe people would start leaving her alone to do her job in peace.
But they didn’t.
On a bitter cold day at the end of January, Dan stopped by Margo’s office. “Are you aware of what’s going on at headquarters? The shareholders are getting antsy, and we have to cut overhead wherever possible.”
“Yeah, I get it, Dan. So they want to weed out nonproducers and cut the overhead, scale back the healthcare benefits, and trim office space expenses. Fine by me. When the market bounces back, we’ll be in fighting form.”
“Hate to tell you this, Margo. But Sandy’s job will be terminated, effective in two weeks, with a small severance, of course. It’s a shame, really. She’s put a lot of effort into the job, and you two have been getting on rather well lately.”
Margo’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach. She’d come to depend on Sandy. Now her workload would triple. She’d seen ebbs and flows in the market before. But why now? “It’s sad. Is there nothing we can do about it?”
“I’m afraid not. We’re lucky we have our jobs.”
“I never thought it would get this bad…” She didn’t know what else to do or say about Sandy. “It’s an unfortunate situation. Don’t worry, I can handle my files without her.”
“I thought you’d be a good sport about things. Okay then, I’ll need to tell her today.”
“Let me know how it goes, and I’ll be sure to connect with her and take her out for a nice lunch.”
“She’ll appreciate the gesture. At least she’s leaving on a good note with you.”
Yeah, but at the same time she’d leave Margo in a lurch now that she’d have to do both of their jobs. But what could she do? Times were tough all around.
****
Margo continued to take mortgage loan applications. Most loan officers left the company and didn’t reapply. Margo became one of the last remaining producers. As a result, her volume picked up. But she found herself snapping at customers who called wanting status updates. She had none to give them; the loan applications seemed to be stuck in a world of inertia.
She experienced a phantom cell-phone vibration in her hip pocket. It was strange. Then, when an actual phone call came in through the desk line or cell phone, she developed a panic attack and couldn’t breathe.
Since she didn’t have an assistant or even a front-desk receptionist to take the calls for her, everything was on her. She reached a point when she wished the phone wouldn’t ring.
Margo finally broke down and made an appointment to see a psychotherapist. Gail Ross had been a family counselor for over twenty years and worked with many of Manhattan’s high-powered business people. Carmala had met with her over the Guido problems.
Margo explained the circumstances of her pending divorce, her job success, and the current state of affairs at work.
“Work was everything to me. Being a top producer. The best of the best. It was the one area I had going, but now even that’s falling apart. And I see that I sacrificed everything for it, including my husband.”
Gail listened patiently during the fifteen minutes Margo took to unleash her pent-up emotions. She shook her head. “You can’t blame yourself for everything. Timothy went outside the marriage.”
“Yes, he did. He was the one who was unfaithful. But I’ve been unfaithful to the vows we took. The honor, love, and cherish part went right out the window sometime during the mortgage boom. And now that the housing bubble is burst, I don’t even have work to fall back on.” A tear snaked down her cheek. First one. Then an avalanche she couldn’t stop. Sobs racked her rib cage as she let her emotions unleash.
Gail pushed the tissue box her way.
; “I should have seen it coming. I neglected him. I avoided our relationship…I became so obsessed with my production at work and the desire to be number one that I neglected my husband. That’s why he went away.”
“Did he ever try to communicate those sentiments to you when this was going on? Did he sit you down and tell you how he felt?”
Margo couldn’t think of a single time when he sat down with her to explain what was going on for him. No, in fact, he’d never brought up any relationship issues until he slapped her with the news that he was leaving. Was she supposed to read his mind? “No. I was entirely unaware of how my behavior affected him. Evidently I was oblivious to his slipping away. Still, he never gave me the opportunity to rectify matters.”
Gail nodded. “That was precisely what I thought. He suppressed his feelings and went elsewhere for relief. Instead of discussing what was wrong with you, he turned his back and took the coward’s route out. You can’t blame yourself for one hundred percent of the break between you.”
Margo blotted the tears. “It’s true, we share the blame equally. But what’s the point of talking blame at this point? It’s over, and I have to accept that fact. The papers are filed.”
“That’s right. Acceptance is the first step you need to take. And it’s been a few months since the separation. You delayed the emotional recovery by burying yourself at work, and now that work is drying up, you’re forced to face the reality.”
“There’s nothing more I can do with the job. I actually can’t stand it anymore. The market is so tight I can’t even get the plain vanilla loans approved. I think I’d like to take a leave of absence. I have more than enough money to last several years. Maybe the break will do me good.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“I’m afraid to make the move, though.”
“I can understand your hesitation. Your work has been a critical part of your self-identity for so long. But the business is gone. For now. And since you’ve set aside a nest egg for yourself, you can give yourself permission to work on yourself. You’ve been through an awful lot.”
Margo shifted in her seat. “I’ve worked all my life. Now I’m afraid I won’t be able to generate an income again when I’m ready to go back to work.”
“This is different.” Gail peered up from her notes at Margo. “You’re suffering the beginning stages of a mental breakdown. A leave of absence will give you the chance to evaluate the direction you want to take your life, professionally and personally. Your mental health will improve. Trust me.”
“Maybe I should do it. There’d be no pay, but my position would be secure, and if I want to go back, I could.”
“If your manager agrees with the arrangement, that’d be great. But you need to evaluate what it is that you want here. What’s important to you? You mentioned that you need a break from the business. You might discover that you’re ready for a new career.”
Margo’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
Gail raised a brow. “What? Think about it. You’ve been in the banking industry since high school. Maybe there’s something else you’d like to do. You’re a bright girl. I think part of your hesitation is the fear of the unknown. Whatever you do, you need to mentally prepare yourself.”
Margo was ready to leave it all behind. She’d bought the house of her dreams and the car she’d always wanted, but she never had time to enjoy them. “I am ready to leave my job. Finally. I’m tired of taking care of everyone else’s needs. I want to take care of me. Face the impact of my divorce and start a new life.” She hesitated and drew in a deep, fortifying breath. “I think I’ll be seeing a lot of you, Gail.”
Gail smiled encouragingly. “That’s what I’m here for.”
Margo left the psychologist’s office with her decision made. She was leaving D.C. Mutual and her career behind, at least for now.
It was time to start a new life. But would she be able to pull it off? She wasn’t positive. But she had to try. What else did she have to lose?
Chapter Fourteen
Beginning of the year the business was so ho-hum. Steeped in tedious year-end client reports and wrap-up tasks, Carmala became bored. Tom asked her to prepare a report for each of the clients she had worked with since she started at Synergy. She hated regurgitating the same information and longed for something new to work on.
The phone on her desk rang.
“Hey, babe. I have special plans for us. An after-holiday surprise for my girl.”
Guido had already given her Christmas gifts. What else could he surprise her with?
“You know I love surprises.” It was a quarter to four, almost the end of the workday. Thank God, she was not into it today.
“Why don’t you meet me at the Regis? I have dinner reservations at six.”
“I’m in work clothes and don’t have enough time to time to go home to change.”
“Use it as an excuse to buy something before you meet me.”
“Not a bad idea. I can always use another reason to shop. All right, I’ll see you there.”
What did he have up his sleeve? The Regis? Where had he come up with that plan? She was barely able to contain her excitement.
****
Guido waited on the Regis steps for her. He clutched a bouquet of flowers, nervous but confident about this evening.
He spotted her coming and couldn’t take his eyes off her. She looked gorgeous as she walked that determined walk in her spiked heels and fur coat.
When she approached him, he kissed her cheek and pressed the bouquet into her arms.
She buried her nose in the flowers. “Mmm, I love the sweet rose and evergreen scents. They’re lovely.”
“That’s just one of my surprises tonight.” He unbuttoned her coat and peeked inside. “Let me see what you’re wearing.”
She shivered and said, “It’s so cold.”
“I love the new dress. It fits nice and tight around those shapely hips.” And those gorgeous tits. He pulled her into him, warming her body. “It’s so good to feel you in my arms.”
“I wore these spiked heels all day, and my feet are killing me. Let’s get out of the cold. Please?”
Guido kissed her again, loving her sweet taste and musky smell. “No complaining, we’re here to celebrate.”
He led her through the hotel lobby and toward the restaurant, passing through columns of marble and fine art. Once they arrived at the restaurant, Guido announced his name. The host took their coats for the coat check and escorted them to a secluded and cozy table next to the fireplace. Guido had planned their night down to the tiniest detail.
For the past couple of weeks, he had an electrical job close to the hotel and decided to make reservations here because Carmala enjoyed upscale joints. With the extra income from his recent promotion, he could afford to take her out in style now. Tonight was a special occasion, and he wanted to set the right tone. The fire coupled with the warm glow of table candles would set the perfect mood.
The waiter came to the table to take their drink order, and they decided on a bottle of red wine. They chatted idly about the day as the waiter served the wine.
“Carmala, I have a post-Christmas gift for you.” He reached inside his jacket and felt for the box, for about the fifth time that day, to make sure it was there. It cost him a month’s salary for this thing, but he knew he’d have her as soon as she saw it.
“No, Guido. No more gifts. You were more than generous at Christmas.”
He didn’t want to stall another minute. He pulled out the telltale, ring-sized, robin’s egg-blue box wrapped in a cranberry-colored silk ribbon.
Her face registered shock, but he couldn’t quite read if she was joyful or disappointed. Tonight was the night. Time for them to take the next step.
He held the box in his hands, and he gave his most smoldering look. Her pupils dilated, and her nostrils flared. She flicked her tongue over her bottom lip and smiled. Good. She was pleased. “I’ve
been doing a lot of thinking lately. We’ve been together four years, and yet we haven’t made a commitment.”
She was stone silent.
“We’ve had our ups and downs, but overall it’s been mostly up.” He pushed the box across the table to her. “Go ahead and open it. I know you want to.”
She pulled at the silk ribbon. He could tell she wanted to savor the moment. His heart pounded against his rib cage—a hammer-pounding hard. She couldn’t possibly say no. Could she? Sweat beaded on his brow. He swiped it with his napkin.
She opened the box and stared at the solitary Tahitian black pearl ring surrounded by two glistening diamonds, nestled in a Tiffany setting. It had taken him weeks to select it. He wanted just the right ring for her. He hoped she loved it.
“It’s stunning. What does this mean? What exactly are you asking, Guido?”
“Well, it means we’re intended, not quite engaged. Not yet, anyhow, but I hope we will be soon. A kind of promise ring.”
“I love it. This must have cost a fortune. It’s at least three carats!”
“You are worth every penny, Carmala.”
“I love you, Guido.”
Her reaction was good. Perfect! With a little wine, a little affection, he’d go in for the real proposal.
The waiter returned, refilled their glasses, and presented the dinner specials. Guido couldn’t care less about the specials. A nice, juicy steak would be fine by him. But, as he sipped his wine, he was proud that he’d brushed up on his table etiquette. He caught a glance at his work-worn hands and the black grime still left under his nails, despite the scrubbing. He tucked his hands under the table.
With a little brushing up on his wardrobe and appearance, he’d measure up. He had to keep up with her. She loved to be wined and dined, and she deserved it. She worked hard, too hard.
Carmala took a long sip of her second glass of wine. She bit her lower lip, something she did when she was nervous. Could she be disappointed he hadn’t proposed marriage to her?
The waiter took their orders, Guido decided on a prime rib, and Carmala the lamb. After the waiter left, Guido held his glass up to Carmala’s. “To us, Carmala. May we be together for many years to come.” They clicked their glasses.
Having Fun with Mr. Wrong Page 16
