Until We Say Goodbye

by Jane Drager

  “Yes, sir.”

  Again, he leaned back. “Stan Taylor is our local go-to man for problems. He’ll find you the right lawyer in Pennsylvania.”

  His stance relaxing, Mark released a large breath. “Thank you, sir. I’d have bet money Lauren turned you against me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He stood, walked around the desk, and rested his butt on the corner, one leg dangling. “Truthfully, I haven’t had a chance to call her. This crisis in Salt Lake took all my time.”

  One blond brow cocked. “You didn’t talk?”

  “Regretfully, no.” He tugged on his ear. Saying the words out loud sounded so damn feeble.

  Mark’s brow twitched. “Then, you don’t know.”

  Head snapping, Deems narrowed his gaze. “What?”

  “We’re returning to Arendtsville together.” Mark shot him a sideways glance. “We had a long discussion and discovered we still love each other.” He pulled on his necktie. “I explained everything, sir, about the debts and why I left in a hurry. She understood and forgave me.”

  Mark could have swung a sledgehammer into Deems’ chest. The pain cut so deep, his balls retracted. What the hell is happening here? Yes, they had been engaged and presumably in love, but Mark screwed her big time. How could she forgive him so easily?

  Words eluded him. He had no idea what to say or how to feel. Anger, yes. Shock, disbelief, but the heaviness in his chest was new. Was Lauren’s loyalty to Mark stronger than her professed love for Deems Lambert? Or worse, had she agreed to support Mark and then expect to come back to New York as if she never left? Does she take me for a fool?

  He returned to his chair behind his desk but couldn’t sit. Instead, he gripped the backrest and avoided eye contact.

  Mark cleared his throat and stepped toward the desk. “I can’t believe she agreed to return with me, but I’m sure glad she is. She’ll give me some much-needed moral support.” With a shaky palm, he smoothed the front of his tie. “I realize I’m jeopardizing my career with High-Rise, but she means a lot to me, sir. I’ll gladly make the sacrifices to win her back.”

  Something flickered in Mark’s gaze, and just a hint of a smile touched the corner of his lip. Deems didn’t like the look at all, especially for a man about to hit the unemployment line.

  Mark’s expression grew shuttered. “Her art class ends today. We leave for Harrisburg in the morning, and we’ll head straight to the police station.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “She knows I’m here with you and told me to say goodbye.”

  Heat rising, Deems contemplated sweeping the contents of his desktop onto the floor. A fine how-do-you-do after spending the happiest two months of his life. She had the gall to dismiss him as if he was a passing fling. Hell, she resided in his penthouse, living the life of a queen. If he discovered she and Mark slept in his bed…

  Mark squared his shoulders. “Look, Mr. Lambert. Lauren and I have known each other for a long time. I’ll never get through my trial without her. So, please don’t give her any grief.”

  “I wouldn’t dare interfere.” He’d barely kept from biting off his own tongue. He squeezed the back of his chair. “You can use the company charge card for transportation home, but the card expires Friday night. Make sure you pay for Lauren’s ticket.” Truthfully, he didn’t give a damn if the two of them fell into a bottomless pit. He turned toward the window, dismissing Mark. Come Monday, he’d have Human Resources officially terminate the bastard.

  Once alone, Deems hadn’t any idea what to do first. He had a dozen phone calls to make before the conference video with the crisis team in Utah. Instead, lead bones weighed him down. He wanted to shut out the world and be alone, but hell, so much depended on his interaction. Chest too tight to take in a decent breath, he flopped into his chair and stared at the wall.

  He considered himself an astute man—one who analyzed people with a quick sweep of his gaze. Bankers kissed his feet. Politicians gushed, but the one achievement he’d yet to accomplish was a wife and family, a woman who loved him and not his money. He thought he found such a woman with Lauren, and now, even his money couldn’t hold her. All right, she’d verbalized her unease with city life, but how could she conceivably return to Mark Jordan? I’ll never understand women.

  “Mr. Lambert?”

  He jumped at the sound of Betty’s voice on the intercom. Leaning toward the desk, he clicked the button. “Yes?”

  “Lauren Howell is on the phone. Shall I patch her through? She’s been trying your cell.”

  Like an omen, he had entered his office, and his cell phone died. He hadn’t thought twice about a recharge. “No, Betty. Tell her I’m busy and to have a good trip. I won’t be home until late, but if the Stewarts’ condo is done, she should return.”

  Mark probably called her to say Deems had given his blessing. What a crock of shit.

  ****

  Heart thumping, Lauren stared at the phone in her hand, her mind blank. Have a nice trip? He’d said goodbye through his assistant plus requested her return to the fourth floor. Why? What the hell happened in Salt Lake?

  She’d gone a whole week wishing he’d walk through the door so they could discuss options to continue their relationship, but for some unfathomable reason, he said goodbye without explanation. Was he tired of her already, or was this common rich-man’s behavior?

  Just as well. He’d never agree to her suggestions. Deems was a self-made billionaire with his own set of priorities. She had no experience with wealth and should cut her losses. All right—I guess. I’m a big girl. I’ll deal with the rejection and cry later. But hot eyes and cheeks burned as she packed. She had the strange feeling of being expendable. What the hell is wrong with me? Was she a big sap to let men use her until discarded, like a dirty dish rag?

  For the second time in her life, she racked her brain for answers. Where had she and Deems gone wrong? While in Salt Lake, he hadn’t called, and she dared not bother him. Unlike his first trip where they talked every night, this time, they’d exchanged only quick text messages with the wish-you-were-here crap.

  Was Salt Lake the beginning of his cold send-off? Because he believed she refused to stay? Why do men grow bitter whenever they don’t get their way? As if a woman should bow before a man in humble worship. She debated leaving Deems a scathing note about his behavior, but the gesture would be an exercise in futility. Perhaps he’d met someone else on his trip and decided she was more worthy of his world. So be it. Life goes on.

  Luggage in hand, Lauren approached the elevator and took one last look around the penthouse. Her memory of this suite would last forever—as would Deems. With her heart shrinking, she stepped into the elevator and inserted the key, but on the way down, a fire burned in her gut. Deems hadn’t any right to cast her aside as if she was some two-bit floozy he picked off the street. After switching elevators on the first floor and then dropping her bags at the Stewarts’ condo, she whipped out his business card for the High-Rise International address, hurried past Johnny with a wave, and stepped outside to hail a cab.

  The taxi dropped her off at—naturally—another high-rise. The interior had a more business-like decor without marble and gold sparkling everywhere. A much larger security desk stopped everyone from walking straight to the elevators. The man behind the desk acted more like a traffic cop for people with no clue about why they wandered through the revolving door. Foreigners maybe, thinking they stepped into the Empire State building. After telling the guard her destination, she entered the elevator and punched the button for the eighteenth floor. Seconds later, she exited into a reception area where a young woman glanced away from her computer, her round eyes growing larger at the sight of Lauren’s bruised face.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Mr. Lambert, please.”

  She gestured over her shoulder. “Head down the hall to the end. His assistant will help you.”

  The “hall” was a long corridor with partitioned cubicles on the left and offices encased
in glass on the right. Curious gazes followed her as she passed.

  Some of her bruises had faded, but instead of looking like a woman who survived a beating, she resembled a person with an unknown discoloration disease. Nearing the end of the hall, Lauren squared her shoulders and marched directly to the woman sitting at a desk near a door marked Private.

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Can I help you?”

  “Is this Mr. Lambert’s office?” She pointed at the door.

  “Yes, but he’s busy.”

  “Is he with someone?”

  “No, he’s—”

  Without waiting for permission, Lauren barged into the office.

  Deems stood behind his desk with a phone to his ear and his suit jacket draped over the back of a large leather chair.

  He looked tired with dark circles around both eyes, and her heart almost weakened…until he met her gaze and glared.

  The assistant rushed ahead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lambert. She just let herself in.”

  He tossed his phone onto the desk. “That’s okay, Betty. Leave us.” He waited for the assistant to close the door then frowned. “What are you doing here?”

  His gaze cut through her like a laser. What the hell happened in Salt Lake for him to hate her so much? “I’m here to return your damn key.” Pulse pounding wildly, she approached the desk and slammed the key onto the blotter. “You aren’t even brave enough to tell me to my face.”

  “Under the circumstances—”

  “What circumstances?” Her arms flared. “You never called to see if I dropped dead. I should have taken the hint then.” Tears welled in her eyes. Dammit, I will not cry. Sniffing, she jutted her chin. “May you have a wonderful life.” She turned toward the door.

  “Lauren.”

  Refusing to face him, she paused with her hand on the knob.

  “I wish you and Mark all the best.”

  Her heart thudded. She whirled, jaw tight. “What?”

  “He told me.” He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, his hot gaze steady on her face.

  She narrowed her gaze. “Told you what?”

  “About your plans to stand by his side.”

  Her mouth dropped, and she fell against the door. “You believed him without questioning me?”

  For a few brief seconds, she got lightheaded and was thankful she leaned against the door. She knew Jo-Jo would somehow screw her again. Since he took everything else she had, he had to take away Deems. But why couldn’t Deems see the obvious? Was Jo-Jo that important to the company?

  She cleared her throat. “Jo-Jo is notorious for vengeance, Deems. You and I being together probably ate him alive.” She squared her shoulders, chin high. “For your information, he left me because my brother inherited the farm. He had counted on the money from me selling my half. If you choose to believe I will ever return to him, then you don’t know me at all.” She blinked away the moisture accumulating in her eyes. “You trusted a thief and a liar more than me.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Yes, we’re done.” Throat tight, she gripped the door knob and glared. “For the second time in my life, I’ve made a complete fool of myself. I’ve fallen in love.” Throwing the door open with a bang, she stormed from the office.

  Chapter Thirty

  For the past two days, Deems grumbled at everything. At the office, the computer wasn’t fast enough, or his cell phone crackled from poor reception. Then, at home, the smoked bacon tasted like shoe leather, or too many birds pooped on his penthouse window. No appetite, no sleep, and no humor. All because of Lauren’s comment about falling in love. She had expressed her love earlier. He believed her then. Why not now?

  While washing his coffee cup, he pondered the question. If he hadn’t been so angry at the Salt Lake calamity, would he have taken the time to talk to Lauren? Instead, he accepted Mark Jordan’s declaration of their undying love and brushed off Lauren as another unworthy female with his mind closed to any explanation. Deep down, he wanted no more problems and, in retrospect, caused a colossal one of his own. Mark took the easy path to riches and embezzled money from a boss who trusted him with the books. Knowing Mark’s background, how the hell had he ignored such a blatant act of disloyalty? He really should have his head examined. Turning off the faucet, he sighed. Too late now.

  The penthouse phone rang. He turned from the kitchen sink and, before grabbing the receiver, wiped his hands on a towel. “Yes, Johnny?”

  “Your sister is here. Shall I send her up?”

  “By all means.”

  Not like he wanted company. He’d been moping around all morning, and here, the day was half gone, and he wasted a sunny Saturday because he couldn’t screw his brain in right.

  Jan arrived a minute later with her flower-power clothes flashier than usual. He hugged her and smelled the strong, citrus scent in her hair. “So, what’s new with your criminal status?”

  Smirking, she tossed her canvas bag on a side chair. “The District Attorney will not press charges. Eric convinced him I knew nothing of his activities.”

  “That’s good.” The man finally did one decent thing in his life. He headed for the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

  “Bottled water, if you have some.” She followed and leaned on the counter.

  Deems reached into the refrigerator, slid aside the casserole Lauren left with heating instructions, and grabbed two bottles of water. He lobbed one to his sister.

  After opening her bottle, Jan pointed to the basket of green apples at the end of the counter. “I see Lauren left her supply.”

  Lauren couldn’t eat the apples, not with a crack in her jaw. She planned on making apple sauce. He pursed his lips. “I should throw them out. I’ll never eat them.” The casserole, too. Both were a reminder he didn’t need.

  Smacking her lips after a long swig from her water bottle, Jan wandered toward the living room. “So, what’s with you and Lauren? Why’d you toss her out?”

  Deems paused with the water bottle halfway to his mouth. “How did you know?”

  “I stopped by last night to see how she was doing only to collide into her as she walked onto the street with her luggage.” She curled into a side chair and tucked her legs beneath her butt. “She told me you ended the relationship but was rather vague with details.”

  “I’m not surprised since the whole damn matter is bizarre.” He sipped his water. “According to Mark Jordan, she’s standing by his side, one of those through-thick-and-thin deals. They still love each other.” He choked on a laugh. “She denied every word.”

  Jan shrugged. “So, what’s the problem? Don’t tell me you believe Mark?” Eyes widening, she gasped. “You do believe him! How could you, Deems?”

  Hell, he didn’t understand his own actions let alone explain them. He combed his fingers through his hair, not giving a damn if every strand stood on end.

  His sister shook her head. “Mark’s playing you.” She took a swig of water then looked his way. “What else did he say?”

  He stared at his bottle. “They were returning to Arendtsville together.” Glancing up, he frowned. “Yesterday morning, in fact.” Just saying the words gnawed at his gut. He joined her in the living room.

  “But yesterday night was when I ran into her. So obviously, she didn’t leave on the morning train.” Covering her mouth with her hand, she stifled a yawn. “By the time Carol and Bill returned, Lauren had nowhere to sleep except a bench at the train station. I convinced her to come home with me.”

  Deems stopped mid-swallow and faced her. “I don’t understand. Mark had a hotel room.”

  “If she was going with him, you mean. He probably didn’t know Lauren was condo sitting and had to wait for Carol and Bill. I bumped into her around eight o’clock, and her luck finding a hotel room on a Friday night was nil, especially with opening day for the Yankees today.” Squinting, she cocked her head. “Where’d you expect her to go at that hour?”

  A sour taste covered his tongue. Not even a swig of wat
er helped. How could he have forgotten about Carol and Bill? Lauren would never leave without assuring their arrival. What a friggin’ ass! Deems turned to the windows and stared at the green of the park, a beautiful green, like Lauren’s eyes. Clenching his jaw, he spun from the window. No use tormenting himself.

  Jan pointed to his cell phone vibrating on the coffee table. “Since when aren’t you answering your calls?”

  He glared at the phone. If he hadn’t been so damned focused on Salt Lake… “I need a break from all the friggin’ calls.”

  “What if the call is Lauren?”

  He shook his head. “She won’t call, not after what I said.” Besides, he assigned her a special ringtone, which he had yet to remove.

  “She told me you hadn’t called once while in Salt Lake. Was the building ready to collapse? Were you in charge of physically removing people to save their lives?” She wagged a finger. “I know you, big brother. You’re too hands-on. All this rigmarole could have been avoided.” She studied her nails. “If you ask me, Mark took a big chance saying what he did. Maybe he couldn’t stand to see you and Lauren together and risked losing his job just to keep you separated.”

  Deems’ gut twisted. Lauren had stated Mark’s need for vengeance. What had Mark hoped to gain? Besides separate us. Dread filled his heart and turned the vessel into a lead ball. What a fool.

  Jan held her water bottle to the light. “I had high hopes for you and Lauren. She made you forget business for a while.”

  “No one makes me forget business.” Actually, every time they were together, Lauren clouded his thoughts with wonder. Last night, he tossed and turned, because she would not get out of his mind. Today, he had no intention of concentrating on business. All right, she definitely distracted him from business.

  Sighing, Jan clutched both hands around her water bottle. “This morning, I went with Lauren to the train station. She had a twelve-thirty ticket. Do you know her eyes change to a deep green when she cries?” She took a sip. “And yes, she boarded the train alone.”