“You two sound like girls.” Carmala appeared annoyed with them and downed her champagne. He hoped she wouldn’t get too drunk. She overindulged on a rare occasion, and he feared she was well on her way.
But her irritation bothered him. Sometimes Guido couldn’t figure her out. She should be happy he was getting chummy with Jon. Still frowning, she waved her empty flute in Jon’s face.
“Coming right up.” Jon filled her glass. Without losing a beat, he continued his conversation with Guido. “One of my frustrations with men’s fashion is how fast it gets boring, yet I’m not particularly interested in men wearing anything too feminine. But you don’t have anything to worry about that. How often do you work out?”
“I work out three to four times per week. Carmala is my trainer. But the real secret is in the diet.”
Guido glanced at Carmala, drinking her champagne, swaying back and forth. She slipped off the seat and quickly sat herself back on the bench. Yep, she was drunk all right.
Carmala peered up at him. “What? I can handle my booze. The driver is going too fast.”
“Sure you can. I just don’t want to see you wake up with a bad hangover, honey.” Guido rubbed her arm.
“I can take care of myself.” She drained her champagne glass and held it out to Jon. “Fill me up.”
Jon complied, then topped off Guido’s glass and his own.
“Don’t worry about Carmie. She can take care of herself. Besides, we’ve got the limo all night. I’ll make sure you get home safely. She can always nap in the car while we party on.” Jon winked at him.
Guido hardly paid attention to the gesture, more concerned with Carmala. He watched warily as she slipped off the limo sofa again and onto the carpeted floor. She recovered pretty quickly and settled back into her seat.
Okay. He decided to leave her alone. If she got trashed, so be it.
For the rest of the ride, they chattered senselessly and laughed at nothing and everything.
****
The line outside the Cheetah Club wrapped around the corner. Jon had the limo driver stop in front, and they scrambled out. He told the driver to give them a couple of hours. Jon directed Guido and Carmala to the front of the VIP line. The doorkeeper smiled at Jon and gave him air-kisses to his cheeks. He gave Carmala and Guido the look-over, nodded, and lifted the red velvet rope to give them entrance. Guido had never received star treatment. He had to admit it was nice. Once inside a host escorted them to the VIP lounge up the rounded staircase. A little table decked with a vase of three red roses and a bottle of Don Perignon on ice sat at the top of the stairs waiting for them.
The beat of the old-school disco with new remixes vibrated loudly throughout the club. On the stage, dancers twirled and lifted their partners in wild movements. The dance floor below the stage was filled with elbow-to-elbow people, spinning and gyrating. Carmala chair danced to the music. Guido could tell she was dying to get out on the floor.
Jon winked at Guido. “You don’t mind if I take her to dance?”
“Go right ahead.” He wasn’t ready to dance yet. The coke had made his heart race. No more for him. He’d drink a little more champagne to calm down.
“Bye, honey.” Carmala gave Guido a sloppy kiss.
Although it was a rare occasion, he hated to see her drunk. Plus, she seemed wild. At least he could trust her with Jon and knew no other guys would try to pick her up. He drank a glass of champagne in one shot and poured another as he watched Jon and Carmala dancing on the floor.
He tried hard not to get irritated with Carmala because he knew she was excited about that client in Palm Beach. He made a mental note to investigate the guy in Florida. If he found one thing he didn’t like, he’d hop a plane to Palm Beach.
Despite his worry, Guido enjoyed watching Jon’s excellent dance movements. He was a regular John Travolta. And Carmala followed along fairly well, considering her state of inebriation. Hell, he hoped the dancing would sober her up. He’d make a point of telling Jon to slow down on the drink orders. Guido certainly wanted no more after the bottle he was working on.
Suddenly, the dance floor got foggy as the DJ sprayed mist into the air. He lost sight of Jon and Carmala. As long as she stayed with Jon, she’d be safe. He finished his second glass of champagne, a little more slowly, and when he finished it, he poured another. Jon returned, flushed and smiling, minus Carmala.
“Where’s Carmala?”
“Potty break.”
“I hope some guy doesn’t grab her. She’s pretty lit tonight.”
Jon cocked his head and studied Guido.
“I think she’s had enough to drink. I don’t want her to get sick. Let’s not order any more champagne,” Guido said.
“Aren’t you acting a little overpossessive?” Jon slapped him on the back. “Come on, you need to loosen up. How about you? You can have a little more champagne, no?” Jon looked around, apparently in search of a waiter.
“No, I’ve had enough. When Carmala gets back, I’m going to test out the dance floor with her.”
Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. Where the hell was she?
“Hey, Jon, I’m going to find her. You’ll be here?” Guido said.
“No problem, buddy. I’ll occupy myself.” Jon gave him a sly smile.
Guido waited outside the ladies’ room for a bit, but no Carmala. He asked a random girl on her way in to call out Carmala’s name. The girl obliged but returned and said no one answered. He milled about the dance floor, searching for Carmala. Their favorite song from the disco era buzzed from the speakers.
He circled the dance floor three times frantically searching for her. No luck. Then, he caught a flash of red and black. Carmala. Twirling, laughing, and dancing with another guy.
Son of a bitch. Not just any guy. Marc Blass.
Guido closed in on them and grabbed Marc’s shoulder, shouting over the music. “Hey, you’re with my girl.”
Marc’s eyes widened. He stopped dancing and stood stock still, continuing to hold Carmala’s hands. Guido disengaged Carmala’s hands from Marc and turned to her. “We’re so out of here.”
She shook Guido’s hands from hers and rubbed her forehead. She listed to the right and lost her balance. Marc steadied her, but Guido shoved the other man’s arm away. “I’ve got her. She’s coming with me now.”
He pulled Carmala away from Marc before she could say anything. She had a lot of nerve. When they got to the lobby, he couldn’t hold his tongue. “What the hell were you thinking, Carmala? After the last fight, you’d think you’d use some common sense.”
“Oh come on, Guid. I, I’m just trying to have fun.”
Oh crap. Now she would slur her way through the argument. Jon appeared in the lobby. Maybe he’d talk some sense into her.
“What do we have here? Are you two lovebirds having a fight?”
“No, he just thinks he can control me all the time,” Carmala said.
“Oh, little Carmie’s drunk.” Jon put his arm around her to keep her steady. “Should we get our princess home?” he asked Guido.
“I could kill her. I caught her dancing with this Wall Street slicker she knows from work.”
Jon shook his head. “It’s nothing, Guido. Just a guy from work. You’re being a party pooper.”
“I wanted to dance with her to our favorite song. But I didn’t get to, because she was busy dancing with that dick Marc. Where the hell is his wife?” Guido yelled at Carmala.
“Boohoo, are you going to sulk like a little boy? We don’t have time for that.” Jon waved his finger at Guido, still holding Carmala with his other arm. “Tsk, tsk, you’re being a bad boy, and I might have to spank you.”
Guido cracked up laughing at Jon’s gay remark. It was charming, in a way. Jon’s sense of humor staved off another fit of anger.
“Think you can behave yourself, Guido? Can we try this again?” Jon said while making eyes at Guido.
“Ah, what the hell? Let’s order her a super-charged energy dri
nk. That should sober her up.”
“I’ve got all the stuff you need to sober her up.” Jon winked at Guido, but Guido shook his head. Jon hooked Carmala’s arm with his right arm and Guido’s in his left. They made their way up to the VIP lounge, Jon wedged between the two of them.
Despite Guido’s initial protestations, Jon insisted that a shot of tequila would sober Carmala up. Guido gave in to Jon and allowed him to give Carmala a shot. Surprisingly, the tequila shot along with a couple of glasses of Red Bull sobered her up. But now she seemed to be drunk straight, talking a mile a minute. At least she was behaving. To avoid losing one another in the now overcrowded club, the three of them danced the rest of the night away.
On a dance break, Guido and Jon hammered a few tequila shots. Jon gave Carmala another half of one. They took turns spinning her and spinning each other on the dance floor. It was a fun night, overall, and Guido forgot all about the encounter with Marc.
By four in the morning, they took the limo to a Manhattan diner for breakfast. Afterward, Jon asked Eric to drop Carmala and Guido off at their apartment.
Carmala squeezed Jon’s arm. “Look, I’m going to Palm Beach for ten days. I’ll be leaving tomorrow. No, wait. I’m leaving Sunday. Why don’t you and Guido hang out together while I’m gone?”
“Sure, I can think of a thing or two we could do.”
“Yeah, we’ll go out for a couple of beers some time. You’re great fun, Jon.” Guido slapped Jon on the shoulder.
“You got it,” Jon said.
“Then, it’s settled. I’ll give your cell to Guido, and he’ll call you. Thank you so much for everything. Night now.” Carmala air-kissed Jon and stepped out of the limo.
“Nice meeting you. Had a great time,” Guido said. “See you later, man.”
“The pleasure was all mine. I’ll see you soon.” Jon waved goodbye.
Guido stepped out and clutched Carmala’s arm to help her up the stairs to their apartment. The limo drove off in the early morning light.
He loved Carmala with all his heart, yet she seemed to misunderstand his every intention. Why the hell were women so complicated? Sometimes he wondered if it would be easier to be gay; then he wouldn’t have all the difficulty with communication. Guys were more simplistic, and they spoke the same language.
Nah! That definitely wouldn’t work.
Still Carmala worried him too much, and it was more than he could bear.
Chapter Sixteen
After agonizing for countless hours, Margo had reached a monumental decision. Now she needed to discuss it with her manager, Dan.
She tapped on his partially open office door. Dan looked up from his paperwork and waved her in. “Hey. What’s going on?”
Margo took a deep breath. This was going to be harder than she’d thought. “I need to discuss an important matter. Is now good for you?”
He put a file aside and folded his hands. “What’s on your mind?”
Margo took a seat opposite him, her heart thumping hard. She needed to seize the moment, but after having rehearsed her speech, she still wasn’t sure where to start. Meanwhile, Dan raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since Timothy and I split.”
He nodded, showing requisite concern.
“I’ve had some really lucrative years in this business. But I think it’s time to take a break.”
Dan’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you mean, like, an extended vacation?”
“No, I’m talking about an indefinite, unpaid leave of absence.”
His eyes widened. “I see. I know a lot has changed in your life, as of late.” He hesitated. “You’re an important part of this branch. Perhaps you should take a long trip to a tropical island. I’ll bet you’d be ready to come back after a couple of weeks.”
He attempted to sound calm, but she knew panic when she heard it. The business she brought in comprised sixty percent of his bottom line. But the branch’s profitability was the least of her concern. For once, she needed to focus on herself, not the bank.
“I’ve lived and breathed this business for so long. Really, I’ve let it rule my life. And when I look at my life, it’s not what I want. I’m sorry to do this to you, Dan. I have issues to deal with and need time to consider my next steps.”
Dan nodded and let out a slow whistle of air. “You have been a leader and the foundation of our mortgage operation. And, maybe, our current challenges are a bit daunting…but remember your ship will never sink. You are the best, and you’re with the best.”
“I let that ideology blind me. Now, my personal life is nonexistent. I’ve let my marriage slip away. Even little things have gone by the wayside. I can’t remember when I last balanced my checkbook, reviewed my investments, or focused on my fitness routine. I can’t get home improvements started because I’m taking business calls every weekend. And, to be honest, the calls are a waste of time. Loan requests I can’t get approved. It’s futile to even try in this economy.”
“The market will change for the better.”
“But until it does, I do the job of everyone who was fired over the last few weeks—including my assistant’s, the processor’s, the underwriter’s.” She moved to the edge of her seat, ready to confront any objections he’d raise. Because, really, she’d had it.
“We still have a very effective processing center with experienced people. We kept our best support staff at the new center.” His phone rang. He hit the do-not-disturb button.
“Most of the transactions I’ve seen lately are dead-end deals. They’d fall through because of inspection failures, unknown liens that can’t be satisfied, uncertain buyers. The serious buyers now won’t qualify under current underwriting guidelines. By the time this industry recovers, I won’t have anything left in me.”
Dan gave her a reluctant nod. “You do need a break. You’ve come a long way from the bright-eyed college grad I remember. I don’t think, however, you should make any permanent decisions right now. Just take a leave of absence. Your job is still waiting here, if you want it when you come back.”
“I need to get my life back. I don’t know what that means right now. But I know I can’t duplicate what I’ve done in the past, and it’s virtually impossible to succeed in this economy. I’m done. For now.” Margo was resolute, and there was no turning back.
Dan apparently didn’t get it. His brows furrowed, and he continued to stare blankly at her for a moment.
Oh well.
“You know, Margo, you are always welcome here. I’ll support you in any decision you make. Take all the time you need. When you’re ready, you can return.” He stood up and she followed suit. He came around and gave her a hug. “Take care of yourself and stay in touch.”
****
During the first two weeks of her retirement, Margo reorganized her personal finances, filed bills, and reconciled accounts that had been unbalanced for years. She eliminated services that were unnecessary or being done poorly. She would do them herself.
She rolled up her sleeves and did laundry, housekeeping, and gardening. Margo didn’t know what she’d been paying her housekeeper to do. She discovered dust balls behind every door and piece of furniture.
But then she realized the four-thousand-square-foot house was too much for her to keep up by herself and decided to hire another cleaning service.
Rooting through her closets and drawers one day, she discovered all kinds of things: clothes, jewelry she thought she’d lost, and unopened gifts. It was like going shopping, only she didn’t have to expend the time, money, or energy usually necessary to do it.
The phone rang; the screeching sound sent alarms through her body. Who the hell could be calling her now? The call came through the house line, so it shouldn’t be work. It was just Carmala checking on her. Relief rushed through her.
Margo decided to work on her fitness routine. She hadn’t been to the gym in months, despite her decade-old membership. When she had first joined the gym, she’d purchased top
-of-the-line exercise wear. Time to get the ol’ gym rags out. Only they weren’t so old. In fact, they were barely worn, and some even still had tags on them. She tried on a few outfits, posing in her full-length mirror. She looked fabulous, if she did say so herself. Okay, maybe a little overweight. But thank goodness for the spandex. It squeezed in all the fat, made her look like she had a waist an inch thinner, and smoothed the bulges. It didn’t exactly hide her imperfections, but who wouldn’t dig leopard leggings? And her boobs appeared especially big in a sports bra.
After deciding on the perfect outfit, she headed to the gym. She worked out on the treadmill at high impact and was certain quite a few guys were checking her out. But she also noticed strange stares from the other members.
It had to be because the girls were envious of her and the guys wanted her.
She checked out the clothes on the other women. Damn! Her gym clothes were dated. Instead of spandex, the girls at the gym were wearing yoga-style pants and long tops.
Oh well, it didn’t matter. Even though it might do her some good to get out and socialize, maybe meet some men, she absolutely wasn’t going to spend money on brand-new gym clothes. She had to save her money now. She’d just work out at home. In fact, maybe giving up the gym membership before the next monthly charge was processed to her credit card would be in order.
She had a state-of-the-art, full-sized gym right in the comfort of her own home. It was a six-hundred-twenty-square-foot workout room overlooking her rose gardens. Margo had plenty of exercise equipment including a treadmill, an elliptical machine, yoga mats, free weights, and stability balls. Plus, no wait times. Who needed a gym? Maybe she could get her trainer, Seth Jordan, to train her at home.
On her way out of the gym, she stopped to talk to Seth, who was open to the idea of training Margo at home. “I could come on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at five thirty. We’ll workout for two hours each session. I need your commitment, though, because there are a couple of other clients who want me to do the same thing.”
Having Fun with Mr. Wrong Page 18
