Lou picked up his phone and asked Allyson to reschedule all of the appointments he had the next day for some time the next week. He wasn't really supposed to ask Allyson to do anything, but I didn't say a word. She was under worked and over paid, in my opinion. She might as well do something.
"Okay, so now I'll at least be able to do some actual work tomorrow. For today, though, you are it."
"What do you need me to do?"
He frowned. "I thought I said it already. For today you're with Kegan."
"Me! But--"
"Haven't you been listening, Candice? I can't get out of today's meetings, and he needs to know what I've come up with so far and you need to find out what else he needs."
I stared at him. This was my big chance to impress Lou with my client skills. But with Kegan? And after I'd refused his dinner invitation, would he even be willing to talk to me?
Lou's face had been getting steadily darker as I sat stunned, but it cleared, and he said, "I get it. Are you nervous about being the main contact?"
"I... yes, Lou, I'm nervous," I said, grabbing at this logical and convenient straw. "I've never done it before, and on such an important job, well..."
Lou tilted his head. "I don't think it's a particularly important job, it's just a rush one. Anyhow, don't be nervous, you'll be fine. You're basically just going to make sure my design works for him."
"Okay," I said, nodding like a bobble head doll.
"I have faith in you," he said, smiling at me and standing up from his desk to show me it was time for me to go.
I went.
*****
"What?" Kegan's voice, brusque and impatient, seemed to ricochet out of my cell phone and bounce through my body.
"Um, it's Candice. I'm--"
"Candy, hi." The change in his voice!
"I'm outside," I said, fighting hard not to feel warmed by his tone. "Could you let me in?"
"Of course," he said. "I thought Lou was coming."
"He was going to, but he's got some meetings he can't cancel."
"I'm not important enough for him to cancel his meetings?"
"No, no--"
"I'm not?"
I realized what I'd said. "No, that's not it at all. You're very important. He just can't get out of them. He did try but--"
The door opening in front of me cut me off. Kegan snapped his phone closed and stepped out onto the sidewalk, letting the door close behind him. "I just wanted to hear you say I'm important," he said, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.
"Did I say important? I meant impossible," I said as I walked past him toward the door. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I spun to face him, horrified.
"I'm sorry." I took an involuntary step backward; my turning around had put us dangerously close together. "I shouldn't have said that. You're a client."
"I shouldn't have been impossible," he said, giving me a wink and holding the door open for me. I passed through, not sure if I'd won or lost, or even if it had been a competition.
We spent nearly an hour going through Lou's initial designs. I'd never been the one to present the designs before, but I'd seen Lou do it enough times that I was fairly comfortable.
Or would have been, if it had been anybody but Kegan. Sitting close beside him, I could feel the heat of his body and smell his cologne. I forced myself to focus on the designs and be cool and professional.
Kegan didn't seem bothered by our nearness. He paid careful attention to every part of the design, pointing out things he liked and things that needed to be changed. I wrote down everything, including his reasons when they weren't obvious, and I knew Lou would be impressed with my detail.
When we were about half finished, some of his workers needed his attention. After checking with me to make sure it was okay, Kegan went over to them. I continued looking at the plans for a minute or two, and then turned to see if he was still busy. He was, but instead of going back to the plans I kept my eyes on him.
I'd really never believed he'd be able to defy his parents and go for his dream. Seeing him now, I couldn't understand why I'd felt that way. He was clearly so happy to be where he was, and so sure of what he wanted. I felt tears tingling at the back of my eyes as I watched him. What would it be like to have such a strong desire and to see it fulfilled?
He said one last thing to the workers who'd been surrounding him, everyone smiled, and Kegan headed back in my direction. I dropped my eyes to the plans, hoping he wouldn't know I'd been watching him.
"Sorry about that," he said when he reached me.
I shook my head. "Not a problem."
He smiled at me and sat down. "Let's get back to it."
"Okay. Well, this is what Lou suggested for the lighting..."
Kegan studied the plan. "Perfect. I'd heard Lou was great with lighting. This is exactly what I wanted."
A question sparked in my mind at his words, and before I could think it through, I asked it. "Did you know I worked there?"
He turned to me. "How could I have known?"
That wasn't the question. I shrugged. "I don't know. Did you?"
He gave me a half-smile and shook his head. "I didn't know until you came into his office on Monday. Why?"
"Just curious," I said. He hadn't seemed surprised to see me, but why would he lie?
"I can't say I mind working with you, but I didn't know."
"Okay," I said, choosing to ignore the first part of his sentence. "Well, let's get back to work."
"All right," he said, moving closer to me and leaning over the plans.
When we were finished, I went back to the office. Kegan offered to drive me, but I managed to convince him I'd be fine on the subway. I needed time away from him.
I spent the afternoon placing orders and typing up my notes for Lou. I took a short break, to email Larissa and tell her that I was fine, that I hadn't got the results yet, and that I knew Kegan was bad for me so she shouldn't worry, and then went back to working on Kegan's restaurant. My mind kept wandering to him instead of the work, to whether he'd had something specific to talk about at dinner or had really just wanted to get to know me again. I hauled my mind back to the research every time, but it was exhausting all the same.
Near the end of the day, Allyson wandered over and perched on the edge of my desk. "How'd you get so lucky?"
"Pardon?" I knew what she meant, but I didn't want to talk to her at all, much less about--
"Kegan," she said, fanning herself. "I'd love to work with him."
"Be my guest."
She laughed. I hadn't been joking, but she didn't seem to care. "What's he like?"
"How would I know? I just met him."
"Really, 'Candy'?" She shot me the bright smile that annoyed me so much. "Didn't sound like it. Should I ask him?"
No, because he'd tell her. I shook my head. "Not much to say, really. I knew him in university. He was friends with my boyfriend."
I didn't want her to know the truth. I didn't trust her, for one thing, and it might make things awkward at work if everyone knew I'd dated Kegan.
"And you didn't go after him instead? I would have. He's gorgeous. It's those eyes, I think. The rest is pretty good too, but his eyes are--"
"There's more to life than looks, you know."
Allyson blinked twice and didn't speak for a moment. I was just starting to regret my words and their sarcastic tone when she said, "Not if you look like that."
She and Kegan would look great together, her delicate blondness and his dark hair and strong body. Way better than I'd looked with him.
She walked back to her desk, leaving my thoughts in even more disarray.
*****
Once I got home, I put the socks and underwear into the dryer, heated up and ate a frozen dinner in less than ten minutes, and then slumped onto the couch. I felt tired but also jumpy and nervous. I reached for the remote control, but then decided that a gym visit would be better for me. And it might have been, had I not chosen a
class instead of working out by myself. Foolishly, I thought it might be easier.
It was a beginner step class. If those people were beginners, I was the queen of Siberia. About the only good thing to say about the class is that I didn't actually kill anyone. The two people I knocked over were really good sports about it.
I went home after class and showered there. I'd embarrassed myself enough for one day; I didn't want anyone seeing me naked to wrap it up.
After my shower, I headed to the computer to email Ian, feeling strange. I was doing well on Kegan's restaurant, as far as I could tell, but seeing him made me feel a complicated mix of emotions, mostly negative. The step class disaster was the kind of thing that I'd be able to laugh about in a few years, but at the moment I felt stupid. And antagonizing Allyson wasn't bright either, since everyone else thought she was wonderful. Overall, not my best day.
I turned on the computer to check my email, expecting to have one from Ian, but there was nothing. I hit the refresh button a few times, hoping to somehow make the computer give up an email it was hiding, but no luck.
Did I want to send one to him? I was annoyed with his attitude, but I could understand it. If it had been reversed, I probably wouldn't have wanted him working with some woman he'd loved before me.
I set my elbows on the desk and rested my head in my hands. I'd meant to be spending time each night thinking about our marriage, about what I wanted to do, and now he'd been gone for four days and I hadn't done even one night. And I didn't want to.
How do you sit down and decide if your marriage can be fixed? How do you make yourself feel love for someone when you know you love him but just don't feel it any more? I didn't have a clue.
Instead of giving it a try, I went down to the basement to get the laundry. Once I had everything folded, I put my own clothes away. Ian had taken most of his socks and underwear with him, but there were a few pairs of both left over, so I opened his dresser drawer.
In the nearly empty drawer lay something vibrantly colored, every shade of blue imaginable. It looked like... but it couldn't be...
It was. It was the yarn I'd been coveting for months. Thin and delicate, pure silk, and the richest colors I'd ever seen. I'd bored Ian senseless with my raving over it, but the price was out of my reach. I crocheted fast so was always in need of more supplies; spending a good month's worth of crochet budget on one skein of yarn had never seemed like a great plan.
I turned the yarn in my hand, feeling its softness, and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Scooping it up, I read, "Candice, I hope you have fun with this while I'm gone. Love, Ian" and tears filled my eyes. I'd never told him the brand name of the yarn, so he must have gone to the store and described it until they figured out which one he meant. And he hated the yarn store.
Leaving his socks and underwear on the bed, I took the yarn to the computer to check my usual pattern sites to see if anything seemed right. I came up empty, though; I wanted to make something stunningly beautiful from Ian's gift, not just something good. Something worthy of the yarn. I'd have to invent it myself.
I found a cheaper yarn of a similar weight and took both yarns down to the living room. Ninja lay beside me, snoring, and I tried and ripped out a multitude of stitches and patterns. The design took shape in my mind as I worked; I wanted it to be a shawl, something that I could wear year-round, and I wanted it to show off the beauty of the yarn and its color changes.
Attempt after attempt grew and was unraveled under my hands. Ian had always been fascinated by my lack of interest in following patterns, since his work involved careful attention to pre-written plans. I often used patterns for reference but the creativity of it was the part I adored, making something that had never existed before.
We'd had many discussions about the feeling of finally recognizing the right stitch, or the right thing to add to a client's restaurant to make it unique, and I'd mentioned at least once that this yarn would require all my skill and attention to find the perfect design. He'd obviously remembered.
At last, I found the right stitch. As soon as I began I knew, no doubt in my mind, but I did a few rows just to be sure, then began to crochet with the new yarn, loving the feeling of it sliding over my fingers. The stitch did highlight the colors perfectly, so I wrote down what I'd come up with and was about to start creating the shawl when I realized I was exhausted. Checking the clock, I realized I'd been playing for nearly two hours.
After tucking the yarn away carefully into a drawer so Ninja couldn't ruin it, I went back to the computer to email Ian.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: How're you doing today?
I hope you're doing well out there. It must be so hot! It's hot here, but nothing like there, I guess.
I'm sorry you were upset about Kegan. He's being professional, and so am I. It'll be over in a day or two.
I did the laundry today. That yarn is perfect. I can't believe you went in there and got it for me. Thank you so much. I'm making something special out of it. Might not be done by the time you get home but I will try.
Write back soon.
C
My fingers itched to return to the yarn but I had to go to sleep. I considered bringing the yarn into the bedroom so I could look at it as I fell asleep, but dismissed this as both obsessive and pathetic. Instead, I took the polar bear Ian had given me at the airport and set it on my bedside table.
Guarded by the bear, visions of yarn dancing in my head, I fell asleep instantly.
Friday, August 5th
When I woke up, my recurring dream of being that polar bear on the ice floe fresh in my mind, I felt like it might be a good day... until I tried to sit up. Every muscle in my body, even muscles I hadn't known I had, cried out in agony as I moved. I eventually managed to get to my feet, and the pain seemed to lessen as I staggered around and around the bedroom, so I decided to go to the gym anyhow. I took Ian's bear with me on my slow stiff way down the stairs and left it in the living room so I'd be able to see it more often than just as I fell asleep.
After the disastrous step class, I was convinced I was meant to work out alone. I slunk into the gym, hoping I wouldn't see anyone from the night before. I didn't see anyone, but I did hear a sudden burst of giggling as I entered the change room. I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me, since nobody seemed to be looking at me as I snuck peeks around the room, but I didn't believe me.
I managed to stay on the elliptical machine for nearly ten minutes, and followed that up with twenty minutes on the treadmill. Both were a struggle, but I made myself stick it out and keep going.
After a soak in the whirlpool and a hot shower, I picked up a bagel and coffee for breakfast on my way to work, and was surprised by how energized I felt. Unfortunately, it didn't last once I saw the mound of paperwork nearly burying my desk. I ate my bagel with my back turned, then forced myself to get to work.
Buried in the horrors of endless bylaws and regulations, I didn't realize Lou was standing over me until he cleared his throat. I jumped, smashing my hand against the edge of my desk.
"Ow! Hi, what's up?"
"Can I see you in my office for a minute?"
"Of course."
As we walked to his office, I ran frantically through the last few days in my mind to try to spot something I'd done that Lou would be upset about, but nothing came to mind except my discomfort about presenting the designs, and we'd already dealt with that. He didn't really seem angry, but I had seen him in the past go from Bruce Banner to the Incredible Hulk, only a bit less green, in seconds, so that didn't mean much.
"Have a seat," he invited, gesturing to the two visitor chairs beside his huge mahogany desk. He sat down in his own chair, and I was reminded painfully of my job interview, when I'd tripped over the carpet on the way in and hit my head on his desk, knocking myself out cold. After the paramedics had left, I'd offered to clean up my blood on the floor, and Lou had laug
hed and offered me the job on the spot.
Was he about to tell me he regretted that snap decision?
"Candice, I need a favor."
Sweet relief. I raised my eyebrows in a "Go on, good man, and know I will help" way.
"I'm really overbooked these days, and the client meetings in particular are just killing me. Would you be willing to completely take on one client? I'd still do the designs, of course, but you'd be responsible for presenting everything and making sure it's right."
"Of course," I said, thrilled. Maybe designing was in my future. This would certainly be a step in the right direction. I wanted to get my 'yes' out there quickly before he changed his mind.
"Great."
He sounded so relieved that I started to feel a little nervous. "Lou," I said slowly, "why do you want me to do this? Why not just delay Fred or Frank a bit? They don't even have their opening dates set yet, so they wouldn't care."
"Well, to be honest, the client requested you."
"Really? I-- oh."
Kegan. It had to be. "Which client, Lou?"
"Kegan Underwood," he said, and I felt like a herd of elephants were doing jumping jacks in my stomach. An exercise class for miniscule pachyderms. "He says you did a great job yesterday with the initial designs and he'd like to keep working with you."
Why, Kegan, why? No way had I been evil enough in a past life to deserve this. I pursed my lips and looked at Lou.
"What?"
"I.... can't I work with someone else?"
He folded his hands together on his desk. "Why?"
Why indeed. I just couldn't tell my boss, "Because I used to sleep with him." How unprofessional. Besides, I was married and therefore it didn't matter. So, I did the only thing I could think of.
I lied.
Life, Love, and a Polar Bear Tattoo Page 5