The Closer I Get to You (Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 8)

by Melanie Schuster

  “Don’t you ever go home? This place can get along without you for ten minutes; you need to start getting out of here earlier. What do you pay all these people their ridiculously high salaries for if they can’t handle things for you?” he asked acerbically.

  Paris looked at the time and yawned, “Oh, excuse me, I’m didn’t mean to do that in your face. I’m going home right now as a matter of fact. It really isn’t my intention to spend every waking moment here, but there’s been a lot to do. Planning the new season, restructuring the staff, taping the promos, you’ve been a part of most of that so you know how much work’s been involved.” She yawned again, delicately.

  “Restructuring the staff? What do you mean?” Aidan asked innocently.

  Paris narrowed her eyes at her friend. “You know what I mean, don’t sit there and try to pretend otherwise.”

  Aidan continued to look blank as he probed. “You added a new staff member? Why was that?”

  “Because someone left the show,” Paris said with a tiny edge in her voice.

  “Someone left? Was it anyone I know?”

  “Aidan, why do we go through this? Gayle Rodgers left my staff as you well know.” She closed her eyes in resignation as Aidan began singing “Ding-dong the Witch is Dead” from the Wizard of Oz. Everyone who worked on her show, which was simply entitled “Paris & Company”, was so thrilled with the fact that Paris had terminated the woman that they all started singing the tune the day the announcement was made two months ago. They had finally stopped singing it all day long, now they only burst into song when they could trick Paris into saying her name.

  When his musical interlude was over he grinned at Paris with no sign of repentance. “She’s a miserable human being and you know it. She was tearing this place apart with her incompetence and her laziness and when you let her go it was like sealing up a hole in the ozone. You can see for yourself how much better the atmosphere is around here. People can’t wait to come to work in these halcyon days post witch Rodgers. Best thing you could have done, absolutely.”

  Paris stretched, standing up from her desk and picking up the few papers that covered its surface. While she was preparing to leave the office she reflected on Aidan’s words. Gayle Rodgers was an assistant producer who’d had good qualifications coupled with a rotten disposition and an aversion to hard work. She was gossipy, temperamental and dictatorial and caused nothing but trouble. She often didn’t complete projects and would blame so many others for her ineptitude that internal strife and bitterness followed her everywhere. Paris had inherited her, as she was part of the show that had preceded “Paris & Company”. She’d tried everything to make the woman more productive and bring her into line but it was fruitless. The woman had a particular hatred for Paris and felt that she, not Paris, should have been tapped to headline the show, absurd as that concept was.

  Paris had been nearing the end of her patience with Gayle and had rightly concluded that the relationship was not salvageable. Gayle Rodgers actually sealed her own fate when Paris overheard her in the ladies’ room. She was saying some vicious and patently untrue things about Paris to a couple of other staffers when Paris emerged from her stall with a cold look in her eye that no one had ever seen before. Paris had calmly washed her hands while advising the other two women to leave. “And for the record, ladies, it’s always a good idea to make sure the object of your scorn isn’t within the sound of your voice when you decide to trash her verbally. Gayle, come with me.”

  She took the woman into her private office and offered her a seat while she retrieved a file from a locked drawer in her desk. Placing the file in front of her, she looked at Gayle with a carefully bland expression. She picked up her phone and pressed a preset button, talking quietly into the receiver before hanging it up. Steepling her fingers, she looked at the woman whose attractive but petulant face was mottled with red.

  “Gayle, for some time it’s been evident that you aren’t happy here. You’re obviously intelligent and capable, but this position doesn’t seem to be fulfilling to you, so I’m going to give you the opportunity to find the kind of career that will challenge as well as satisfy you. As of today, your employment is terminated. You may leave now and your personal belongings will be delivered to your home by end of business today. I wish you all the luck in the world in your future endeavors,” she said calmly.

  The woman stuttered and stammered for a minute, then proved Paris right by snapping at her. “I know you’re not trying to fire me because you were eavesdropping on a private conversation. You can’t fire me for that, I’ll sue you!”

  Paris didn’t even blink. “I am terminating your employment because of a pattern of behavior that indicates an employee who will not perform to expectation. You have been counseled on a number of occasions about not finishing assignments, botching assignments, about your attitude towards the other members of my staff and nothing seems to mark a lasting change in your behavior. If there’d been the slightest indication that you were willing to improve your performance it would be different, but nothing changes. You’re still doing, or not doing, the same things you were warned about six months ago. Therefore,” Paris spoke with a slight inflection ignored by the other woman, “you will be leaving my employ today. The director of Human Resources is bringing your coat and purse to my office now, and will escort you out of the complex.”

  The other woman’s attractive but petulant face shone with perspiration as the realization of the humiliation she was about to suffer dawned on her. “So you’re just Miss High-and-Mighty, aren’t you? You just can’t wait to make a fool out of me, because you’re jealous of me, that’s what your problem is. You know I’m better qualified for your job and you can’t stand it. The only reason you have this job is that your cousins own the company and you’re their favorite,” she sneered, oblivious to the fact that her anxiety was making her nose run.

  Paris looked at Gayle with exasperation and pity. “If that were the truth you’d have to be criminally stupid to alienate me, wouldn’t you? It just so happens I have this position because I have a bachelor’s degree in journalism, a law degree and a masters’ degree in leadership. I also interned with The Deveraux Group and their partner, Cochran Communications, for three years. I learned how to do everything in this company from sorting the mail to simple elevator maintenance. And you had an opportunity to do the same thing because you could have gotten tuition reimbursement for advanced study as well as opportunities to intern the same way I did.”

  Gayle was sputtering with rage by now and could barely speak. “I don’t need any damned internship to do what I do! I can do anything you do and do it better,” she spat out.

  Paris’s exasperation left and she felt nothing but pity for the woman. “I’m giving you the opportunity to prove that somewhere else. In the right environment I’m sure you’ll blossom.”

  The scorn and anger left Gayle’s face, replaced at once by desperation. “I can do that right here. Just let me go to another department, to another division and I can prove myself,” she pleaded.

  Paris’s face grew resolute. “Unfortunately, this situation is too far gone for that. I don’t believe in moving problems, I believe in solving them. A new start in a new environment outside of The Deveraux group is sure to provide you with the opportunity to prove yourself in ways you haven’t imagined and I do wish you luck with that.”

  By now the head of Human Resources for the corporation had made a discreet entrance and was waiting quietly with Gayle’s coat and purse. Something about the sincerity of Paris’s words seemed to make Gayle snap because her rage returned, louder and shriller than ever. “You think you’re something, don’t you?” She stood, making a swipe at Paris’s desk that dislodged a large crystal globe, a gift from Vera Jackson Deveraux. Luckily, it was so heavy it rolled across the carpet instead of breaking. “You’re going to regret this, Paris Deveraux. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make you pay for this!”

  With the help
of a burly security guard and the director of Human Resources, Gayle was restrained and escorted from the building in a much more public fashion than Paris would have liked. She’d planned to have them leave very quietly through a little used exit that would have shielded her from prying eyes, but the woman made that impossible. Even though she was doing the right thing, Paris still felt bad about the manner in which Gayle reacted. Clay, Martin, Marcus and Malcolm, her cousins all assured her she’d acted in an appropriate manner, though.

  They were actually proud of her for terminating the woman, as she had become so disruptive that if Paris hadn’t taken the step on her own, Marcus was going to address the situation in his capacity as CEO of the corporation. “One of the hallmarks of a good manager is to know when an employee has to be let go. If they can’t, or won’t, conform to the culture of the company, it’s time for them to move on. This woman has been a major problem in every department she’s worked in but no one had the guts to fire her. They would just transfer her somewhere else until the turmoil would start up again and then she’d go somewhere else. It’s too bad, because she’s not stupid and she has some talent but she’s got issues,” Marcus reflected. “Just don’t worry about it, sugar. You did the right thing and you did it correctly. It’s all part of the process of running a company.”

  The ugly scene was now relegated to the mental tapestry that comprised the last five months of Paris’s life. She’d made an admirable adjustment to not having Titus in her life, a remarkable adjustment, really, considering how badly he’d hurt her. Her pain had been replaced by anger, a slow-simmering rage that she kept at bay only because she rarely laid eyes on the critter. Paris had thrown herself into work with a vengeance and refused to allow one monkey to stop her show, that monkey being Titus. She’d also started dating quite a bit. There were a lot of men in Atlanta and other places who were, it seemed, dying to get to know her and her social calendar was quite full. And she now had a roommate, albeit a temporary one. Aidan had come to her on New Year’s Eve and asked if he could bunk with her for a couple of weeks while his house was being remodeled and she agreed.

  She was living in the two-story carriage house occupied by Vera Jackson before she’d married Marcus Deveraux and there was plenty of room for two adults and one cat. Aidan had brought his Russian Blue, Merlin, with him. Luckily, Paris liked animals and Merlin was an especially beguiling feline. Aidan moved in the day after New Year’s Day and his presence, while unexpected, was a pleasant diversion. He was wonderful company, funny and supportive. Aidan was the one responsible for Paris revamping her look some years before. He’d not only insisted she get a wardrobe of fashionable clothes that fit correctly, he’d gotten her on a program of healthy eating and exercise and she’d gone from a size twenty-two to her current size fourteen, although she was looking like a size ten these days, something which concerned Aidan very much.

  He continued to stand over her as she prepared to leave the office. “Hurry up, woman. I’m starving and you need to eat. That skeletal look you’re sporting is not happening. You’ve been doing an excellent job of pretending that you don’t care about Voldemort, but I know better. You have to start eating more, Paris, you’re starting to look downright gaunt,’ he scolded.

  “Voldemort” was how Aidan referred to Titus, as in the “he-who-must-not-be-named” character from the obscenely popular Harry Potter series. Aidan had pried the whole story out of Paris when she returned to Atlanta after John and Nina’s wedding looking wrung out and overwrought. He was furious with Titus and wanted nothing more than to kick his teeth in, something he assured Paris he could do. “Please, please, please let me! I have two black belts in martial arts and a really twisted imagination, as you well know. I could hurt him in ways no one’s ever thought of before. Let me avenge your honor,” he’d pleaded.

  Paris had tearfully laughed him off at the time, but it wasn’t so easy to ignore the fact that she as looking right peaked. Studio makeup and a fabulous wardrobe could only go so far; her frame wasn’t meant to be this lean and she was on her way to looking haggard. “Okay, okay, I’ll eat! Are you cooking? And can I have some chicken or shrimp or something?”

  Aidan shuddered theatrically before agreeing. He was a vegetarian whose views on the subject bordered on the militant. “Fine, I'll giver you some dead animal to chew on, but only because you’re looking practically anorexic. I’ll make a stir-fry and you can have some grilled chicken with yours. But you’re eating the rice too, sister, and dessert. Carnivore,” he muttered under his breath as they left the office.

  Paris rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, well explain to me why you wear a leather coat. Since you’re such a dedicated vegan,” she said dryly.

  “My mother gave it to me,” he answered without a trace of irony. “How can I not wear a gift from my Mami?”

  It was Paris’s turn to mutter. “I give up.”

  ***

  Unbeknownst to Paris and Aidan, someone was observing them in the parking garage under the compound. Titus was about to get out of his car when he saw the two of them emerge from the elevator. Paris was laughing and looked very happy. She also looked very pretty, although she looked too thin. Thin or not, she was still gorgeous and desirable. Five months of carefully scheduled avoidance hadn’t lessened the impact she had on him. He got the same rush every time he looked at her; it didn’t make any difference if it was up close and personal, across a parking garage or even looking at her on television. He couldn’t look at her without remembering how she felt in his arms, the sweetness of her lips and the warmth of her body. And it wasn’t just her beauty and sensuality, he loved the sound of her voice and the long conversations they once had. Paris could talk about anything and she always had something interesting to say. He liked talking to her more than any other woman he’d ever been involved with, and he missed it. They hadn’t really talked since the Detroit debacle.

  When Titus realized Paris had managed to leave the hotel, he was furious. He at least had enough sense to be angry with himself, because it was his stupidity and selfishness had caused her to flee. He called her on her cell phone, but she didn’t answer. He paced around the suite for a minute or two, and then he took off. In his present mood he couldn’t stand the thought of being there alone. He left the hotel, this time driving straight to Greektown. His destination was the casinos, brightly lit and alive with people twenty-four hours a day. He needed the noisy, impersonal anonymity of the casino to give him some equilibrium. The controlled raucousness of the place served to calm him down, although he wasn’t ready to admit how wound up he really was, nor the cause for his mood. He called Paris several more times but she apparently had her cell phone turned off or she was just determined to ignore him. How can I apologize if she won’t talk to me? Maybe I shouldn’t apologize; maybe I should just let it go. He’d no sooner entertained the notion than he realized how fruitless it would be. This was something he was going to have to live with, the fact that he’d taken advantage of a beautiful and innocent young woman who fancied herself in love with him.

  When he’d finally had enough of the casino, he left without even cashing in his chips. He beckoned to the nearest cocktail waitress and when she approached him with a smile on her face he told her to hold out her hands and he dropped the stack of chips into her palms. “Get yourself something nice, you deserve it,” was all he said before he walked away. By the time he got back to the hotel he was reeking of secondhand smoke from the casino and the smell turned his stomach. He stripped off the offensive clothing, rolled it up and put it in the plastic bag the hotel provided for guest laundry. After a long, punishing shower and needlessly brisk shampoo, Titus got into the bed he’d shared with Paris and groaned as he detected the light sweetness of her fragrance. It was a long time before he slept, and when he finally drifted off he was cradling the pillow that smelled of her essence.

  He continued to stare at Paris and Aidan as they got into her car, the sporty little Thunderbird with the custom pink
paint job and the black interior. He recalled her saying that her brothers and her father had given her the car for her when she got her MBA. He knew how much she loved it and he could see why, she looked perfect in the car. She looks perfect, period, he thought glumly. Against his will, he remembered again what her declarations of love had done to him, how they made him feel. No woman had ever shared herself with him so freely and completely with such true adoration. He still felt a harsh, twisting pain when he remembered the sweet surrender on her face as she admitted her love for him.

  The guilt consumed him at times, but it was tempered by the knowledge that he was right; he wasn’t the man for Paris. She was beautiful, smart, ambitious and adorable and she deserved the world. A man who could marry her, make a life with her and give her all the babies she could possibly want. Titus’s face grew stony with resolution. He wasn’t that man, there was no way he could ever give Paris the things she merited above all the other women he’d ever been with and he had to remember that or it would spell disaster for both of them. He almost started his car, and then grimaced as he remembered that he was coming to the office, not leaving it. He’d spent so much time out of the country avoiding Paris over the past months he now didn’t know if he was coming or going. He laughed bitterly as he got out of the vehicle and walked to the elevator. What he needed right now was some hot, mindless recreation with a willing partner. And he knew just the person. A lot of things may have changed, but the important things remained the same.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning found Paris in a good mood, as always. Oh, it wasn’t always like that; in the early days after the night she spent with Titus, she’d wake up every day in tears. At first she would schedule a good cry every morning. First it was fifteen minutes a day, then she tapered off to ten and gradually the ten minutes became five a day. These days it wasn’t necessary to set aside time to nurse her pain. The pain was gone, replaced by a coolly disdainful anger. She had nothing about which to mourn these days. She’d made a colossal error in judgment with Titus, but life had to go on. There was something to be said for doing the stupidest thing a woman could do with a man and doing it early in the relationship before some sort of precedent was set. She’d screwed up, she knew better now and she’d never, ever fall into the same trap again. And that was that.