Second Time's the Charm

by Knight, Vanessa

  The truth was they never really had known each other. Or maybe they just never understood each other. Either way, he was way too close to this case to work it.

  “I know that. I would have begged, and when that didn’t work, I would have begged him to put a second mortgage on the house or sell the condo,” Dale added and slowly took another drink.

  “That might have worked.” Adam sat in the chair across from his brother.

  “I figured I had a better chance with that, than the company. If none of that worked, we would have left. We didn't want to get Dad involved.”

  “Does Nadia know about all of this? Does she know Dad wouldn’t give you money?”

  “Yes. But before you get all suspicious, she loves me and she loved Dad. They got along great.”

  The pleading look Dale gave Adam was genuine. His brother’s sincerity was reassuring, but he wasn’t sure Dale’s loyalty was based in fact. He’d like to believe every word Dale said, but he just couldn’t muster the same faith that Dale had in his new bride and her ex-employer.

  “Is there anything else?” Adam ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to ask that question. After all, you shouldn’t ask the question if you really didn’t want the answer. However, he figured he should get all the bad news out of the way. If there was any more, he wanted it now, as opposed to learning about it later from the Chicago PD.

  “Well, I was hoping to do this under better circumstances. But I was hoping we could look into selling the company, at least my half. I want you to meet with Ben Mooring.”

  “You’re joking, right? This whole crapstorm might have happened because Dad wouldn’t sell and you want to talk about selling. And to that sleazeball Ben. Have you lost your mind?”

  “Dad forgave him, why can’t we? He wants the company. Do you know how many people are out there offering cash for jewelry businesses? None. I’ve looked. He could take Dad’s dream further than you or I can. We’ll both be leaving soon. He can make the company into something great.”

  “It’s already great.” “Fine. He’ll keep it great.”

  “Allison can keep it great,” Adam asserted.

  “She might, but there’s no guarantee, and what if she needs help? We need to make a clean break and get back to our lives. Please, Adam. Go talk to him. For me,” he begged. “Please do it for me. I don’t ask you for much.”

  “Really?”

  “Fine, I haven’t asked for anything in a long time.”

  Skepticism and leeriness flooded Adam’s mind. It must have shown on his face because Dale added, “Please. I need this.”

  After much pleading and against his better judgment, Adam agreed to meet with the notorious Ben Mooring.

  * * *

  Allison spent Saturday packing up her life into boxes. The apartment was a nice place, but it just didn’t fit any longer. It hadn’t fit her in years, but now that she had the condo and only a week left on her current lease, it was time to move on. That left her with seven days to pack up almost half a lifetime’s worth of stuff.

  She managed to finish packing her living room and kitchen, unused pots and pans sticking out of the moving boxes lining her living room floor. It’s not that she didn’t know how to cook; she’d just rarely found the time. Putting her kitchen necessities in boxes wasn’t all that upsetting in her restaurant-dependent lifestyle. With her dishes in exile, she could avoid the guilt she felt for overusing her insider card at the local pizza joint.

  She looked over the empty rooms and smiled. With each new area conquered, she got closer to residing in that gorgeous penthouse. Despite the break-in, she wanted to move in. She loved that condo. It was beautiful and reminded her of Herb. It might be a bit too much for one person, but she could see herself finding a husband and settling down there.

  She never would have pictured herself in such a palace. After her last promotion, she had planned on buying a place of her own, but she just couldn’t find the time to find the right neighborhood, let alone choose the appropriate house or condo.

  Part of the problem was that she had been buying a home for the future she wanted, but she didn't know what that future actually entailed. She thought she would like to have children someday. Maybe. She’d thought about marriage, as well. Possibly. Both of those dreams seemed so far away, it was just easier to pretend she wasn’t interested... And maybe she wasn’t. She liked having her nights free to hang with the girls or try some new hotspot.

  Oh, who am I kidding? She sighed as she made her way to her bedroom closet.

  She wanted the husband, the children, and the white picket fence. She wanted it all. There just hadn’t been anyone in her imminent future to share in those plans, so she was always waiting around for the man of her dreams to walk into her life.

  She sighed as she looked at the two-by-twelve disaster that housed her clothing, shoes, and miscellaneous stuff. She started with the highest shelf. After all, if she kept it up high, she generally didn’t need it. She pulled a few hatboxes, filled with stationary and other paperwork, and dumped them in an empty carton. She pulled down a few extra blankets, and uncovered two large plastic boxes. Each container had a washed-out label with pieces of duct tape wrapped around the side, names written on the tape in black Sharpie. One was labeled Brooklyn and the other was labeled Allison.

  The marker had faded, but she could still see the words as she ran her hand over the faint gray loops of her mother’s handwriting. Her fingers slid noiselessly over the soft, cracked grooves of the tape. She pictured her mother’s hands securing the label on the boxes for her daughters. The love. The pride. I miss her.

  Loss stung the back of her sinuses and a tear formed in her eye. A miserable dread kept her hands on the lid of the box. Once she opened the box, she knew the emotion from her childhood would suck her into sadness.

  Somehow, she didn’t care. She wanted to look inside, needed to look inside.

  She unfastened the top of Brook’s container and sifted through the Technicolor artwork from her sister’s childhood. She smiled as she looked at the hand-drawn turkey from kindergarten. She rested her adult hand on the child’s handprint that formed the outline of the turkey’s body.

  Staring at the small paper fowl, she started thinking about children. The tiny fingers of Brook’s hand had made this simple art project. Yet Allison couldn’t take her eyes off of the drawing, as if it were a million-dollar painting. She remembered all the homework Brook had brought home over the years. They’d never been

  anything special to an outsider, but to Allison they were brilliant.

  The pride and accomplishment that had been written across Brook’s cute little face made the whole world light up. Allison smiled as she saw her future roll out before her. She wanted a child, a child whose face could light up her world. She wanted the husband, house, and two-point-five kids. She wanted it all.

  She sat on the floor thinking about her future, and Adam’s face fluttered through the scene. The sad thing was, she could see the future complete with Adam Byrnes, but that wasn’t realistic. He was temporary. He’d always be temporary.

  She placed the masterpiece back into the container and sighed. Her skin tingled as she remembered Adam’s hands finding their way along her body. Her eyes closed, and her breath hitched at the way those hands had made her feel. Yeah. She could see herself with Adam. Her stomach flip-flopped as she thought about the way their hands had intertwined as they made love.

  What the hell was wrong with her? She was daydreaming about a man who would be heading back to Phoenix as soon as his familial obligation was complete. Her heart squeezed as another wave of tears snuck past her eyelids. When he left, there would be no amount of shopping or wine therapy that would mend her heart this time.

  Somehow, again she didn’t care. Her wants and needs outweighed it all. She didn’t care that he’d destroy her. She didn’t care that her heart would go down in flames. She wanted him, needed him, if only for a short time.

  She pushe
d a sigh through her lips, shut the container, and placed the boxes in the “keep” pile. She might be on her way to hoarding, but she couldn’t get rid of her sister’s innocent designs.

  Her cell phone rang, music blaring from the phone’s speaker. She skimmed the stacks of things strewn about the room. Where did she put that phone? She stopped and listened to home in on its position. Allison jumped over boxes and scattered objects to get to the location of the song. She couldn’t wait till all of this packing was done. She missed the organization of a semi-clean house.

  Profanity spilled from her lips as she stubbed her toe on the bed frame and hopped to the dresser. Clothes and books, piled high, covered the bellowing object. Allison randomly tossed the items aside as she searched. She finally grabbed the phone as the ringing stopped.

  Damn phone.

  She looked at the missed call log and saw Adam's number. Her lips curved into a smile. It must be a sign. He was thinking about her, too. She hit redial.

  “Hey, sexy,” Allison chirped into the receiver.

  “Hey, I need to take a rain check on dinner tonight, something came up.” “Oh,” Allison’s mood shifted. Maybe he wasn’t missing her as much as she missed him. She was such a fool. “Of course, is everything okay?” “It's nothing. Is your front door locked?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please don’t take any chances.” He breathed in and out into the phone.

  Allison swore she could hear strain in his words. But at this juncture of their non-existent relationship, she was not in a position to judge his moods. He’d just shown how they were in different places when it came to each other.

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks. I’m so sorry.”

  “No problem. I’ll see you at work.” She tried to hide her disappointment as she touched the end button. She was looking forward to seeing him again. She sneered at the phone in her hand and tossed it on her cluttered bed. She couldn't get those hands out of her mind.

  Her heart rate accelerated as she rehashed last night: those gentle probing fingers that had touched her inside and out, those soft lips that had kissed and glided up and down her trembling body, his hard, throbbing…

  “Enough!” she yelled at her empty room. She either needed to get out of the apartment or sift through these boxes and find her vibrator. Since she refused to stay home and wallow in her Adam-free evening, she jumped on her cluttered bed and scooped up her cell phone.

  Ever since Adam mentioned the Chicago Kitchen and Wine Bar, she’d wanted to stop in. She tapped the texting icon and sent Julie and her sister an invitation to dinner. When all else failed, calling for female reinforcement made everything better.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Allison crossed her jean-clad legs as she sat across from Julie and Brook, sipping her red wine. The cacophony of noise wafted up to the second level of the elegant bar. The theatre-going, suit-and-tie set mingled during the Saturday happy- hour rush. Men and women laughed as they discussed the pretentious stage productions to which they would momentarily embark.

  “So, Jackass Smear-Pants started yelling about his latest court case.” Brook leaned forward in her seat, and her black jean skirt rode up her skinny thighs. “Apparently, the judge was out to get him. The fact that he was too busy getting his rocks off in the coat closet with his secretary had nothing to do with the loss of the case.”

  “Smear-Pants? Are we five?” Allison laughed.

  “Bite me. I call it like I see it,” Brook sat back, her blue eyes even more vivid with the blue sweater she wore. She was model beautiful, plus she’d had enough brains to pass the bar.

  Allison would be jealous, but Brook was her sister and that would be wrong… No, she was still jealous. Even her sister’s gnarled nails from constantly chewing on them didn’t make the woman any less gorgeous.

  Brook spun her blond hair around her finger as she continued, becoming more animated. “I mean, how does he expect to win when he forgets to cite federal law? You can’t allow these companies to file injunctions in passive disputes. It’s absolutely ridiculous. You know…”

  Allison shook her head. No she didn’t know, but that didn’t stop Brook from continuing. With a smirk, Julie lifted her vodka martini to her lips. Apparently, Julie had no clue what Brook was rambling on and on about, either.

  Allison watched her friend run a hand through her straight brown hair, a huge grin playing on her lips. Julie looked good tonight. There was just something different about her. Between the cute dark-blue sweater dress and the healthy glow in her cheeks, she seemed happy.

  That was definitely a subject they needed to discuss. What, besides a man, could be putting a smile like that on her face? Allison racked her brain, trying to remember if Julie had mentioned any new guy in her life. Nothing came to mind, and she was sure she’d remember something like that. A girl might forget some things a friend shares, but definitely not a new stud-muffin.

  Allison’s attention moved back to her sister, who continued to rant about injunctions and disputes. Allison loved her sister’s passion for all things, especially the law. It was fun to watch her arms wave and voice rise, however, there were more important topics to address.

  “I know,” Allison smiled and shook her head at the first pause in her sister’s rampage. “Those damn passive disputes.”

  Brook downed the rest of her wine glass. “Okay, okay. No more work talk. You obviously don’t have an appreciation for the finer nuances of passive disputes.”

  “No, please go on. This wine isn’t quite putting me to sleep yet. Your story just might.” Allison raised the glass to her lips as a cloth napkin flew at her head. She pulled the glass away; her red silk shirt would not survive being doused with wine. She stuck out her tongue as she launched the fabric back at her sister.

  “You two are crazy.” Julie smiled as the waiter stopped by the table, daggers flying from his eyes. Apparently, flying napkins were frowned upon in this eating establishment. Who knew?

  The women ordered their dinner and another round of drinks, much to the server’s chagrin. Fortunately, he kept his thoughts to himself. Unfortunately, his body language spoke volumes. But then again, Allison didn’t care. Tonight was a girl’s night. Guys just wouldn’t understand, anyway.

  “Okay, Julie, let’s get to the good stuff. What is with that grin you’re wearing? Whoever put it there must be doing his job right,” Allison fished, and then took a sip of wine.

  “It’s nothing.” Julie ran her finger along the rim of her glass. “It’s just Cody.

  He is the light of my life. When I left tonight, he was so sweet.”

  Allison swore a look of unease snuck across her friend’s face, but it passed so quickly, she couldn’t be sure.

  “It’s more interesting to talk about you. What is going on between you and Adam?” Julie asked as she stirred what was left of her vanilla vodka martini.

  Allison froze as she contemplated the question. How did Julie know about her and Adam? They hadn’t brought their relationship into the office. What could she have seen? When? Who else knew? Shit.

  What should she do? Should she just tell them the truth? Ugh! If she told them the truth, she would never hear the end of it. However, she’d never lied to these two and she didn’t want to start now. She looked at Julie and said the first thing that came to mind.

  “Huh?” she asked, already regretting her response.

  “Please tell me you’re not doing the hokey pokey with that asshole. The last time it happened, months of shopping therapy had to occur before you stopped mooning over him. Although I would love a wardrobe infusion, I’d rather have one happen naturally and not because he’s messing with your emotions again.” Brook said.

  “The hokey pokey?” Allison’s eyed her sister in disbelief. Sometimes talking to her was like talking to a teenager, all attitude and juvenile vocabulary.

  “Would you rather I say coitus? Sexual intercourse? Does that please your delicate sensibilities?” Brook teased.
“I mean, I’ve got a whole repertoire of words I can use. I mean, there’s sex, boinking, fu—”

  “All right. Please don’t.” Allison shook her head and laughed. “So, we might be doing the hokey pokey and we might be seeing each other, but that’s all it is. Nothing more.”

  “So, it’s just seeing and sex. When it comes to men what else is there?” Julie asked, batting her lashes in innocence.

  “Exactly.” Allison smiled.

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?” Brook asked.

  Allison sighed. She didn’t know how to talk about this. How did you explain that you’re having ‘I haven’t had sex in so long, my vibrator proposed, so I’m desperate’ sex with a man who would leave at any moment?

  “Yes. I’m fine.” Deep down Allison knew that was a lie, but she hadn’t actually admitted it to herself yet. She wasn’t about to say it out loud. The extent to which she’d fallen for Adam was not up for discussion. She’d deal with fallout later. Hopefully, much later. “Eventually he will go back to Phoenix, and I’m okay with that. It’s just nice to be enjoying the company of a man.”

  “Good, then it’s about time.” Brook sighed. “You two have been ogling each other for years.”

  “We have not…” Allison attempted to argue, but what was the point? She hadn’t ogled him. She’d pined. Brook wouldn’t appreciate a grammar lesson at this point, and ogling sounded a lot less pathetic than pining.

  “I’m just saying. It’s about time you enjoyed each other’s company again.” “How did you even know we were together?”

  Julie’s eyes returned to her glass. This time Allison was sure she saw guilt pass through her friend’s eyes. “I had breakfast with a friend the other day in the city and saw you.” She took a long drink.

  “So are we talking good sex? Is he still as fantastic as you remember? What about that little move you told me about? Details, please,” Brook asked Allison.

  “Brooklyn!”

  “What? I’m not getting any right now, so I have to live vicariously through you. Give me details.” She leaned forward and wiggled her eyebrows.