by Aria Ford
I grinned. “Sure I will,” I said.
“Good.”
We sat together in companionable silence for a while and then he headed out. When he had gone I stayed where I was in the study, looking at the screen, the green light of an LED still blinking fitfully in the dark room.
I felt a deep desire to reach out to Kyle. To start to plumb the depths of his story, to help him out of his darkness. But how could I?
It was a one-off, Bethany, I told myself sadly. You might as well get on with your holiday.
I was going to have to forget all about him.
Chapter 12: Kyle
I slammed my desk drawer with irritation. I had only been here for an hour or two and I already felt riled up.
Dammit, Kyle! Stop it.
It was Wednesday, middle of the week. I had no idea why I was so restless. I had tried everything to combat it—exercise, sleep, breathing techniques—but nothing seemed to be getting me to focus properly.
“Mr. Beckham?”
“What?” I barked. “Sorry, Melody,” I added, shaking my head as I looked up over the edge of my desk at my secretary. “It’s one of those days. What’s happening?”
I stood up sheepishly, brushing lint off my trousers.
“Call for you, sir,” she said tightly.
I knew I had upset her—I’d been short fused almost constantly for the last two days. I just couldn’t help it.
“I’m coming,” I said.
She passed me the phone and I frowned, hearing the voice on the other side. “Rodney?”
“Hi, Kyle. Sorry to disturb you. You around at lunchtime?”
“Sure,” I said, looking at my watch, which said eleven thirty. It was one of the few days this week when I would be free to take longer with lunch. “You want to chat?”
“Yeah,” he agreed easily. “It’s about the software and, well, other stuff.”
“Okay?” I said with a frown. “Well, see you then. Green Cafe?”
“Okay. See you later.”
“Later.”
I couldn’t help feeling better when I hung up. I liked Rodney, and it would be good to see him. The fact that he was the brother of Bethany also sparked my interest. I was trying to remain distant from her, but the chance to talk to someone who knew her was a compensation for not hearing from her again.
I wondered, as I went back to my desk slowly, if she thought of me. I wished I could know how she felt about me. If she had enjoyed our night together as much as I did. I sighed.
She’s probably moved on. She’ll be working, most likely, socializing with friends. Ready to head off on Sunday.
Somehow, the thought of her heading off on Sunday made my heart twist painfully. I sighed. I was almost tormenting myself with it, imagining her on the plane, smiling as she sped off back to her hometown and her life.
I sat down at my desk and got down to work. I was busy drafting a report for the board meeting next Monday. I wanted it to be faultless. My dad was going to be there and he had a habit of picking me out about mistakes later. On the rare occasions we went out together or saw each other outside of work my tiny slips and errors would be slipped into conversation. He never realized how much pain it caused.
You didn’t tell them about our tailing off services in the delivery department. Or, I thought your remark to Mr. Clifford was in very bad taste—don’t you ever think before you say things?
“Fine,” I said savagely. “This one’s going to be perfect. You won’t know if it’s me or a robot doing it.”
I winced. I often thought my dad would have been happier off with a robot. He hadn’t wanted kids and he most certainly hadn’t wanted me. I suddenly had a flash of how it had felt to lie beside Bethany, feeling so peaceful and wanted as myself.
“Hah,” I chuckled harshly. I wasn’t about to let myself believe that.
I was focused completely on my work when my pocket hummed.
A message? That was odd. Who has this number?
Very few people had my personal phone number. My dad, of course. My friend Alex. A few other people including my doctor, my dentist and my financial adviser. And her.
My heart thumped. Come on, Kyle. It’s probably Mr. Steiner, telling you your share price dropped because of this devaluation thing.
I forced myself to be less excited and took out my phone.
No way. It was a message from Bethany. I felt my heart soar. The oppressive mood that had hung around me like a cloud all week suddenly lifted. I grinned. It felt like the light had just come back in, the clouds blowing away.
Kyle. I don’t want to disturb. I just want to say thank you. For everything.
Oh hell.
I felt my heart warm and then ache: sorrow and joy at the same time. What was I supposed to say to that? I sighed. Put the phone on my desk. Lifted a finger.
Thank you as well.
I paused, looking at what I had just typed. I didn’t know whether I should send it or not. If I sent it, what would she do? I didn’t want to open doors to my own hurt. I shouldn’t encourage an attachment. If nothing else, she lived miles away and I would do better not to give myself the added hurt of having her so far away from me. But what if I didn’t? Did I want to go closing doors too?
I was still sitting with my finger over the button when I noticed the time: 12:10 p.m.
“Oh heck!”
I jumped up as I remembered: I had promised Rodney I’d meet him at the cafe in twenty minutes. And I should get going—the faster I got through lunch, the faster I could get back to work. And the better things would be. I jumped up and slid my phone into my blazer pocket, heading out past Melody.
“I’m off to lunch,” I called, rushing quickly past. “Hold the fort for me, huh?” I smiled at her.
She smiled back. She seemed to have forgiven me, for which I was grateful. “Sure.”
I rushed out and down the street, heading to the cafe.
“Rodney!” I smiled as I breezed in. He was sitting by the window with a friendly smile on his face. As usual, I didn’t ask how he’d managed to get a seat when the place was so crowded. I slid into the seat opposite. “How’re you?”
“Good,” he nodded. “Just got those new updates done that you requested,” he added with a big grin. “I was sitting there last night at my mom’s house, checking the compilations…”
“Oh?” I frowned, feeling a need to ask if Bethany was there. “Sorry to have intruded on family time,” I said smoothly. I knew where his mom’s house was—he’d pointed it out when we’d been on our way to the Sunset Hotel for a company lunch. I hadn’t really paid it much attention, but I imagined it to be a friendly, nice space.
“It’s okay,” he said lightly. “I can multitask. I spent some time catching up with Bethany while I did it.”
“Oh?” I smiled, despite myself, my interest piqued. “So she’s staying with your mom?”
“Mm,” he nodded. “Are you ordering a sandwich again?”
“Why?” I frowned, as he changed the subject quickly.
“Just wondering—they have a deal on wraps. Two for the price of one. And I thought…” he trailed off as I nodded easily.
“Sure. What flavors?”
“Mexican, Thai…roast veg, tuna…” he trailed off as I nodded.
“Roast veg,” I said. I recalled Bethany and how she’d been outraged by my dad’s forcing me to eat red meat as a kid. I gritted my teeth. Stop thinking about her. My phone was an uncomfortable weight in my pocket, heavy with unanswered questions.
“Great,” Rodney said. “You look stressed. What’s up, Kyle?”
I shook my head decisively. “Nothing, Rodney. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” he shrugged easily. “Got plans this weekend?”
“Why?” I asked quickly. If he was going to ask me to a family thing, I had no idea if I should agree or not. I instantly wanted to. I instantly knew it would be the worst thing I could possibly do.
He frowned. “No reason,” he said
softly. “Just asking. Hell, man. What is up? Something is.”
“Nothing, Rodney,” I snapped, feeling irritable again. “Hell—do we get service here, or not? Excuse me!”
I waved down a waiter, and we placed our orders. I felt that anger start to build up in me and wished I could just forget all about that unforgettable night.
When I looked back at Rodney, he was watching me with something like amusement in his eyes.
“I feel like you’ve got me under a microscope,” I said uncomfortably. “What’s up, man?”
He sighed and looked at his hands. “Sorry, Kyle,” he said. “I just seem to make everyone mad at the moment. You, Bethany…” He shook his head.
“Bethany’s mad?” I asked curiously, before I could stop myself. “Is she okay? Is it work?”
He frowned. “She’s okay,” he said slowly. “Say—you seem pretty interested.”
That was it. Luckily, the waiter hadn’t brought our meal yet. I pushed out my chair and stood.
“Rodney Hayworth,” I said vehemently. “I really like you. I might be your boss, but we’re friends. You have no right, though, to make inquiries or judgments on my personal stuff. If you forget that again, well…” I shook my head, running out of words. I couldn’t really threaten him with anything, not for that. “Well, you’re not a friend.”
I felt stupid saying that—some threat! Why should he care about that?—but it was the best I could come up with.
“Kyle, come on…” Rodney stood. I closed my eyes.
“We’re making people stare. Come on. I’m leaving, “I said quietly. I knew it would probably be more sensible to sit down and chat, or at least stay and have something to eat. But I was too moody to sit here and forget about his probing into my private business. And besides, I felt like a complete fool!
Is it so obvious how I feel about his sister? And why would he object? Because I’m not good enough?
I swallowed my hurt and anger.
“Listen—there’s no point. I’m going,” I said again. The waiter stared at us, tray in hand. I shook my head.
“Sorry, man,” I said. “Put it on my tab, huh?” I lifted my coat from the chair and walked out. I left Rodney to do what he would with the lunch, and to settle things.
I felt foolish, walking out, but I knew I couldn’t have sat there and let him make me feel a fool about his sister.
“He’s got a nerve,” I said under my breath. I walked briskly up the sidewalk, back to my office block. “I can be interested in his sister if I want. What’s his problem?”
I strode past the doorman, entered the lift and walked briskly past Melody, who frowned at me.
“That was quick,” she commented.
I closed my eyes in irritation, remembering I hadn’t had lunch. I really should eat something, I reckoned—being hungry wasn’t going to help my focus any. Or make me less unstable.
“Meeting was canceled,” I said succinctly. “Listen, could you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” she nodded. “What’s it?”
“Get a sandwich from the canteen for me? A toasted cheese and mushroom?” I fumbled in my pocket for the change and handed it over. I was surprised to see her smile.
“Sure, sir,” she nodded. She grinned at me like we were coconspirators. “Coming right up!”
I sighed. Recalled something I’d overheard once, about asking people for help being a compliment. Maybe that was right. She sure seemed glad that I’d asked her for help. It was surprising. Weighed against my dad’s lectures that no one wants to put themselves out for other people. It made him seem wrong. Maybe he was wrong about more than one thing, then. I sighed.
Who knows? All I want is a sandwich and a chance to finish my report. And someone to sort out all the confusion in my brain.
I took off my blazer and heard my phone thud against the back of my chair. I sighed, remembering that I still hadn’t answered her message.
Probably better not to, I decided. At very least, I thought, I’d wait until I’d eaten a sandwich before I tried to frame a good reply.
“Mr. Beckham? One grilled cheese and mushroom.”
“Oh!” I grinned at my secretary, who was poised in the door with an impish grin on her face. “Thanks so much,” I added fervently, smelling the delicious odor of roast cheese the moment I opened the bag. My mouth watered instantly.
“Only too happy I could help,” Melody called out lightly, closing the door on me and my lunch. I sighed and made a plan for my next four hours until work ended.
Lunch. Report. Then decide what to text Bethany.
I was still working on the report at five thirty. I looked up, cramped and blinking, as my phone went off.
Oh. Heck. I drew it out, hoping and fearing at once that it was a text from Bethany. It wasn’t.
It was a text from her brother. Rodney.
Hi, Kyle. Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to interfere. I am very close to Bethany and I just don’t want her being hurt. Thanks for understanding.
I stared at the text. I don’t want her being hurt.
Anger was the first thing that coursed through me, and then pain. I closed my eyes. My mind filled up with words, voices, pictures. The images of Bethany and my mother twined together. Mom, with tears pouring down her face, silent and dignified after Dad had put her on blast. Bethany, upset because of me. Mom again, sobbing as she packed a suitcase, leaving our house and never coming back.
Why did I have kids? Mom said in my brain, sitting on her bed and sobbing helplessly. I should have known it was a step too far.
I shook my head. Hurt. I always hurt people. I was the useless one, the rebel, the troublemaker. The images and words filled up my brain and I put my hand over my eyes, wishing, fruitlessly, to shut them out. Someone knocked at the door.
“Yes?” I groaned. It was Melody.
“Oh! Heck. Sorry, sir. I thought you’d gone out. I was just coming to collect that contract you signed earlier…I need to send it off.”
“Oh,” I said bleakly. “Here it is.”
“You’re working late, sir,” she said, looking at the clock. It was almost six pm, I noticed.
“So I am,” I said. I stood up with some finality. I had made my decision.
“Going off for dinner?” she asked conversationally.
“I guess,” I said. I packed and marched down to my car. My body drove on autopilot, heading to the Blue Diamond night club.
It had been too long, I thought angrily, as I put my foot on the gas and sped ahead into the night down dusky streets, that I had been without a drink.
Tonight, just for tonight, I felt the need for one. I needed the familiarity, the escape. The sweet oblivion.
Chapter 13: Bethany
I woke up in the middle of the night with a sudden shock. There was someone at the door. I could hear them knocking.
“What the…” I slipped out of bed and shrugged on a nightgown, heading downstairs. I noticed the time on the way past. It was one am.
“Who could that be?” I felt nervous. Was it Rodney? There was only one reason he would be at mom’s house in the early hours. He had been in a car accident. Or he was hurt. Or endangered.
“Rodney?” I called through the door.
I heard Mom come out of her room. “Bethany? What is it?”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I said quickly. “I’ll get it.” The thought that it might be an intruder crossed my mind. If someone was going to get confronted by a man with a gun I was damned if it was going to be my mother.
I hauled the door open. Someone stumbled in.
“What the…Kyle?”
I felt my heart stop. It was Kyle! Dressed in a smart suit, his eyes ringed with gray, his hair disheveled, it was Kyle.
He stood in the doorway, swaying slightly. I realized he might be drunk. I stepped back.
“Kyle,” I whispered urgently. “What the heck? Why’re you here?”
“Bethany?” Mom called down, sounding scared. “What is i
t? Is it Rodney? Is he okay?”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I called up quickly. “I’ll deal with it.”
“You sure?” she called down. “Only, if it’s Rodney, I can…”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I called up again. “It’s not Rodney. But I’ll deal with it.”
She seemed to draw her own conclusions from that. I heard her door squeak.
“If you’re sure you’re okay. Night, baby.”
“Night, Mom,” I called up. My heart was thumping in my chest like I’d run a marathon. I looked at Kyle. He was gray-faced with weariness and swaying on his feet. He looked at me blearily.
“Kyle,” I hissed, astonished. “What the hell are you…come on, sit down,” I added as he swayed and stumbled. Hell, but he was drunk! I led him to the kitchen. He shrugged off my hand.
“I’m fine,” he said slowly. “I can walk.”
I raised a skeptical brow but didn’t say anything. It was safer not to. I followed him into the kitchen. He sat down heavily.
I turned to the counter to get him some water or something. It might help. He sighed.
“I’m okay,” he insisted firmly as I put some warm water down on the table in front of him. He drank it, though. He grimaced. It seemed to help clear his head. He closed his eyes and slumped forward, head in his hands.
