Agatha returned to the table where Moe sat. They exchanged a few words then Moe set a briefcase on the table and clicked it open. Agatha retrieved two folders and brought them to Helen.
“Since you’re obviously not in the mood to chat, I’ll get to the point.” Agatha handed Helen the folders. One was an inch thick and the other, thin. “Open the one on top first. Please.”
If they didn’t have years of friendship behind them, Helen would have tossed the folders in the recycling bin, instead, she opened the top one then staggered back. “Whoa.” She snapped the folder shut then decided she’d misread the check.
Too embarrassed to ask, Helen sheepishly opened the folder again. “Wow.” On top of the pile of documents was a check written to her for $209,000. “What’s this for?”
“Forty-nine percent ownership with the right to exercise certain business decisions. Everything is in the contract.”
“Are you nuts? This could buy half the boardwalk!” She’d exaggerated, but the amount of the check was absurd. “Agatha, I can’t take this.” Helen shoved the folders back at Agatha.
Agatha held her hands up refusing to take them. “Dear. This is not charity. This is what Hot Diggitys is worth if you choose to follow the business plan I outlined for you. Actually in a few years it’ll be worth much more than that.”
“I can’t.”
“Why don’t you have Ben go over it?” Agatha suggested.
Helen shook her head and continued to hold the folder out.
“Ben can reassure you that you’re protected,” Agatha urged.
“I’m not worried about my protection. I’m worried about yours!” Helen said.
“The other folder is your first franchise contract.”
“When did that happen?” How could that happen?
“There’s more in the works. You need to read the paperwork, Helen.” Agatha smiled. “You’re an entrepreneur.”
Helen glared in response.
“I’ll give you a few days to think. I should go, Moe’s waiting.” Agatha turned and began walking.
Helen wondered why Agatha and Moe couldn’t wait until Theo had left for college to discuss business like Helen had requested. Reluctantly, Helen tucked the folders under an arm and entered Hot Diggitys. After dropping the new documents on her desk, Helen washed her hands then made her way to the front.
****
When Ben stepped into the muggy Chicago sunshine, the temperature was in the nineties and a wall of humidity had him working to pull air into his lungs. Sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down the collar of his shirt as he climbed into a cab. How quickly he’d forgotten the discomfort of wearing a tie.
Foregoing a stop at his condo, he went straight to the office. He stepped inside the air-conditioned building, and it was like greeting an old friend. The receptionist waved. “We missed you. Did you have a good vacation?”
Ben struggled to remember her name. Had he ever known it? “I did. Thank you.”
Heels clacked on marble floors as women hurried by. There was always a sense of urgency at Blake, Esteban & Associates. People moved at unnatural speeds. How had he never noticed that?
The polished, stainless steel doors of the elevators split in half. Inside, mirrored walls reflected his image. He was tall, broad-shouldered with a full head of hair. The consummate trial attorney. Ben pressed twenty-three, one floor away from the ivory tower. The twenty-fourth floor was reserved for partners.
Meredith, a petite blonde, eight-years his junior, slipped in the elevator as the doors were closing.
“Well look who’s back.” She pressed nineteen then reached out and pinched Ben’s thigh. “So how’ve you been?”
Ben was surprised when he had no reaction to her. They’d enjoyed a healthy physical relationship. Ben hesitated. “I’m leaving the firm. Don’t know if you heard.” He’d been insensitive not to tell her sooner.
“No.” Her eyes were widened ,and her lips pursed. “Why?”
“I’m moving back home.” Home. “So, how are you?”
“You are a turkey. Were you planning to tell me?”
“I just did.”
“So where’s home? I don’t think you’ve ever said.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Meredith’s eyebrows rose. “O-kay then.”
The elevator slowed to a stop. They were at the 19th floor. “Have a wonderful life, Meredith,” Ben said, meaning it.
“Is this goodbye?”
“I’m sorry.”
As Ben made his way to his office, there were greetings all around. Apparently, the news of his resignation had not reached his colleagues. His office was as he’d left it: antiseptic and tidy, except for an overflowing inbox that sat on a credenza next to the door. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed off downtown Chicago and sunsets.
Ben went on automatic pilot, connecting his computer to the twenty-four-inch, flat-screen monitor on his desk. The allure of details dragged him under its spell. Work numbed him, and the way hours slipped from one to the next. His methodical approach was the opposite of the fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants way Helen ran Hot Diggitys. Ben wondered at the frequency with which Helen entered his thoughts; considering her needs had become as natural as considering his own.
Ben dug in. He had a scheduled meeting in forty-eight hours with the three lawyers who’d been assigned to take over his caseload. Ben worked through the night, clawing his way to the bottom of what seemed a bottomless pit. When the sun rose, he sat in his chair staring at his computer working. He worked until seven p.m., then exhausted, he retreated to his condo and collapsed in bed.
Ben returned to the office by six the following morning. Four hours later, he gathered the paperwork he needed to distribute. Ben felt unprepared for the meeting; he hadn’t tied up all the loose ends on his cases, but if he continued working, he’d miss Theo’s party.
Every step toward the meeting room was heavier than the last. Giving away his clients would seal his fate. He was throwing a brilliant career, giving up a six-figure income.
He stood before the large oak door, took a deep breath, then heaved it open, and stepped inside. The room was near capacity, not the four attorneys he’d expected. Rather, the firm’s partners, all twelve of them, were seated around the huge oak table. An ancient reverence had him reeling. The room had enough firepower to take out a small planet.
Startled, Ben backed out. “I didn’t realize the room was occupied.”
“Cooper, sit down,” his boss, Ivan Chernov, said.
Ben quelled the urge to rake his fingers through his hair. “Pardon?”
“Sit.” Ivan gestured toward an open seat.
Confusion set in. Ben set the folders he’d been carrying on a side table and reluctantly sat in the chair his boss had indicated. A month earlier, he would have been elated to be included in a meeting with the partners, now weariness overtook him. He interlaced his fingers on the tabletop, and leaned forward hoping to convey interest.
“We were shocked by your resignation,” Ivan stated. “We understand you were trying to get some additional time off to deal with a family emergency prior to your leaving.”
“That’s right.”
There were two types of attorneys, those who had a life outside of work and those who rose to the top. Ladder-climbers, the types that made partner in a firm the size of Blake, Esteban & Associates didn’t do family emergencies. Work came first.
“Is this crisis ongoing or has it stabilized?” Ivan asked.
Crisis? Jeremy and his problems seemed a lifetime ago. “Everything is stable.”
Ivan glanced around the room. “Shall I do the honors?” he asked. A few partners gave their assent then Ivan said, “We’ve been doing some thinking. You’ve been here almost nine years and have done an outstanding job. You have a loyal client base, which is a real asset to this company.” Ivan paused. “We’d hate to lose you.”
“That’s why we’re prepared to offer you a full partnership,” Tag Hart
broke in. An unlit cigar, pinched between his lips, hung out of the side of his mouth.
Partner? Tingles from the adrenaline made him shift his weight in his chair. Could he pass up the opportunity of a lifetime? His mind worked the angles. Maybe he could entice Helen to move. Chicago was within driving distance of Emerson after all. With the money he’d be making he could hire a fleet of nurses to follow her around Nalley.
“I think we’ve stunned him speechless,” Fay Atkinson said to a round of laughter.
He would be stupid not to consider their offer. “Can I see the contract?”
“That’s my boy.” Someone smacked him on the back as Ivan handed him a contract.
****
Helen had rushed the entire day and by the time she arrived at Emma’s parents’ home she was exhausted. Two grocery bags full of munchies dangled from her hands as she knocked. The door swung open.
“Hello Helen. Thank you for coming early,” Irene, Emma’s mother, said in a singsong voice. She wore a floor-length, robin-blue, satiny gown with softball-sized, tomato-red flowers. A red sash wrapped around her waist.
“Of course.”
Irene’s gaze dropped to Helen’s bags. “I’ll get someone to help you with those.”
“No worries. I got it.” Helen pulled the bags in closer. It seemed demeaning to make another person carry them.
“Are you sure? It’s no problem.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“I’ll show you to the kitchen.”
Uncomfortable with the opulence, Helen followed Irene through the palatial estate. The dining room table was filled with mini-quiches, shrimp, a berry platter, and more. In the center on a pedestal sat a giant white cake. Like Irene’s dress, the floors gleamed. The entire home seemed to sparkle.
Helen wanted to stuff what she’d brought in the nearest trash can. With her single-parent insecurity kicking in, she wondered what Theo thought when he spent time at this house. He’d never mentioned a word.
Helen remembered Emma’s complaints about her mother’s obsession with beauty. Irene had forced the girl into getting rhinoplasty. Plus, Emma had endured the humiliation of beauty contests until she put an end to the ordeal by giving herself a splotchy tattoo of a flower on her chest.
The kitchen was a sea of granite and stainless steel, like her remodeled kitchen only ten times bigger.
“Set the bags here.” Irene indicated one of two islands.
Bags crinkled as she set them on the counter. “It looks like you have plenty of food. I don’t know if you even need this,” Helen said.
“Don’t be silly. We’ll have a house full of teenagers.” Helen helped Irene unload potato chips, crackers, a mini-veggie tray, some macaroni salad, and a block of cheese Helen had intended to slice. Irene gave her a smile then pulled a crystal bowl from one of the cabinets and dumped the macaroni salad inside.
“What’s left to do to get ready for the party?” Helen asked.
“Facials.”
“Facials?”
“Don’t you get a facial before special events?”
“Uh, no. I’ve never done that.”
“No? Oh you have to, it puts you in the best mood.”
Helen was prepared to believe the chipper woman. “Really?”
“I’ll bet I can get you in at my spa,” Irene said. “We have time for massages too.”
“No, that’s okay. I have plenty to do at home. I’ll leave and come back later.”
Pressing a phone to her ear, Irene waved her off. The number must have been on her speed dial. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Helen hesitated. She didn’t have hundreds of dollars to spend on a massage or a decadent facial even if they were fun.
“Allow me to treat you?” Irene implored as if she’d read her mind. “Theo’s been such a good influence on Emma. This will be my thank you for raising him so well.”
The spa was a world of scents, soft music, and dim lighting. Bowls of truffles sat on tables and people spoke in hushed tones while patrons shuffled about in fluffy, white slippers and plush white robes.
Helen followed a perfectly coiffed young woman to a dimly lit room. The woman instructed her to undress and lie face down on the narrow massage bed in the center. While Helen knew the process ought to make her relax, she was uncomfortable. She didn’t want a stranger touching her, but told herself to enjoy the experience.
Two hours later, her muscles ached and her face felt as if it had been pulled taut and lit on fire. She’d been told to drink plenty of water since toxins had been released during the massage, and was assured that her beet-red face would stop glistening in a few hours. She dressed and met the beaming Irene back in the waiting room.
“Wasn’t that wonderful?” Irene exclaimed.
“It was… different,” Helen said.
They returned to Irene’s house with less than an hour to go before the party. Irene directed caterers while Helen, having nothing to do, tried to help. Irene cajoled Helen into following her into her bedroom where she changed from the blue gown into a powder-pink dress that showed off her enhanced breasts and tan. Matching heels completed the ensemble.
Helen, wearing her best jeans, a pair of low-heeled, black pumps, and a multicolored blouse that crisscrossed in a vee over her chest and tied into a bow in the back, was underdressed in comparison. A glance in the mirror confirmed her cheeks were still flushed from the facial as if she were perpetually embarrassed.
Guests arrived and Helen, playing co-host, found herself waiting for Ben. His plane had been scheduled to land earlier in the day and, begrudgingly, she missed him. Helen made social rounds. While the younger set stayed near the keg on the back porch, adults filled the living room and dining room. The house buzzed, and Helen flitted about making small talk and catching up with friends.
Helen avoided Seth, who stood in a corner with his hands jammed into his pockets. Her instinct wanted to soothe his obvious discontent, yet common sense dictated that talking to him might make the situation worse. She’d intended to deal with Seth once Theo had left college. She looked away, and was thankful when she spotted Theo, holding his head high and weaving his way toward her. She moved toward him and they came together in a hug.
“Hey, Mom,” Theo said.
“Hello again, my super son.”
“Have you seen Dad anywhere? Some of the guys want to meet him.” Theo scanned the crowd.
Helen checked the clock. The party had been going for two-and-a-half hours. What should she say? “I haven’t—”
“Oh there he is.” Theo glanced toward the front door. “Do you mind if—”
“Go, go.”
Theo and Ben greet one another warmly. Ben had been good for Theo; and Theo good for Ben. Theo took Ben by the arm and led him toward the rear of the house.
Ben caught her eye and waved. He mouthed something, but Helen couldn’t read his lips. He and Theo moved out of view, and Helen wanted to follow them, but as the co-host, she didn’t. She glanced toward Seth and found him watching. His steadfast observance pricked her nerves. She moved out of his line of sight into the dining room and began reorganizing the food.
She nibbled on carrots and a couple of chips until she spotted Seth again. She feigned indifference, mingling with others while never making eye contact. Even when he talked to other people, Helen felt the weight of his gaze on her.
When adults began leaving, Helen took her place alongside Irene. She had deliberately ignored Seth, hoping he’d grow bored and leave. As the party dwindled, Helen grew nervous that she’d be forced to deal with him.
When raucous laughter erupted from the back of the house, Helen glanced over and noticed Seth had left. With a hand on her ribcage, she exhaled. It was close to midnight, time to go home.
Helen followed the noise to the back, intending to bid farewell. Unlike inside the house, where the party was fading, the crowded porch buzzed with laughter and voices. Kids, young adults, Helen corrected herself, stood around holding
mugs of beer.
A backlit beer fountain, complete with Greek sculptures, looked like a flowing golden ribbon. Open champagne bottles flanked the fountain. Helen disliked the abundance of alcohol and hoped Emma’s parents had made arrangements, so the kids wouldn’t be driving.
She heard a burst of laughter. A howling, curly-haired teen lurched forward. Beer sloshed out of his mug hitting Ben squarely in the chest. Jumping back, Ben intercepted the teen’s fall and steadied him on his feet. Even in the dim light, Helen saw that Ben’s eyes were dull and his skin lackluster compared to the youth around him.
Theo set down the Pepsi he’d been holding then jogged to the bar. Ben spied her and a smile transformed his face. She walked toward him, and when she was close, he leaned toward her. “You look beautiful.”
Warmth radiated down to her toes making her forget she’d intended to ask why he’d been late. “Thank you.”
Theo returned and handed a wet towel to Ben. “So Theo,” Helen said, “where are you sleeping tonight?”
“I’m crashing here.”
That was her Theo, ever responsible and not even tipsy.
“You’ll be back to pack tomorrow right?” Helen asked confirming the plan. He’d pack on Saturday and leave on Sunday. One and a half days before her boy left for college. She fought off the bittersweet tears that stung her eyes.
“Yep.”
“Are there arrangements for your friends who’ve been drinking? No one is driving right?”
Ben answered. “Some are sleeping here. I volunteered to drive the others home.”
“Aren’t you a saint? You know they’ll be going for hours,” Helen said.
Ben addressed Theo. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to saddle you with my company all night. I brought some work to do until you’re ready.”
Ben’s shirt, wet from the beer, clung to him, and a tug of desire welled within her. “You sure you’re up for it? You look awfully tired.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Do you want some company?” Helen asked.
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