Heartwood

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Heartwood Page 5

by Catherine Lane


  She found it tucked under the mat, just its corner peeking out. A careful unfolding revealed a phone number written out in pencil.

  Oh shit. This might have been real. She actually may have wanted me to deliver this.

  In the elevator up to her condo, the question of what to do raced around in her brain, bouncing back and forth between possible solutions. She could say nothing, and if it came up, maintain that she had given the paper to Vivienne. The mistake must be on Vivienne’s end. Or she could come clean and admit that she had been so flustered by the whole experience that she had dropped the ball.

  I’m screwed. Either way she came off like an idiot and certainly not future partner material. Maybe there was another solution. Her fingers itched for her iPad. She needed to get on MindNode as soon as possible to create a brainstorming chart and systematically figure out how to get out of this pickle.

  Desi and Lucy greeted her at the door with loud meows, and she immediately grabbed the kibble out of the cupboard in the laundry room. She dug deep into the container and remembered that she had to buy cat food. They purred and wrapped themselves around her feet until the tinkling of kibble dropping into the bowl told them that dinner had arrived.

  She hit the blinking play button on her answering machine as she dumped her briefcase onto the dining room table. Neat stacks of mail, files, and legal pads spoke to office work more than fine dining. She slid into an ergonomic office chair at the head of the table and grabbed her iPad out of her briefcase.

  “Nikka.” A thick Russian accent poured out from the machine. “It’s your father. I want to know how first day went. Call back.”

  “Nikka, this is Dr. Robin’s office just confirming your dental appointment on Thursday. Your mouth guard is ready. Hope to see you then.”

  “Nikkkkaaaa! We’re at the bar. Come on down. There’s a hottie here we all think you should meet. No excuses this time. We’ll be here until ten.” Her old college roommate yelled over chatter in the background.

  “End of final message,” the mechanical voice said.

  There it was, the state of her life outside of work in three messages—a father who was a little too involved, a propensity to clench her teeth, and absolutely no love life. It wasn’t pretty.

  Despite herself, she wondered what the girl at the bar might look like. Tara knew her type almost better than she did. Athletic, legs that didn’t quit, a shaggy bob with soft, sweeping bangs, maybe brown eyes a shade or two lighter than her hair…

  Wait a sec… That was the crazy bike lady from the Springs. What on earth?

  All thoughts of heading out to the bar died instantly. Besides, even if Tara’s choice was that sexy, she’d also probably be a sports fanatic. She knew she was stereotyping in the worst kind of way, but the girls who turned her on in bed usually turned her off once they threw off the covers and started talking about football or baseball or whatever sport was in season.

  For now at least, she had sworn off love. There would be plenty of time for that when she made junior partner. Besides, a drawer full of anatomically correct toys thankfully had no opinions on penalties against a defenseless receiver on the football field.

  She typed a new title, Phone Number Fiasco, into MindNode and started plotting any idea that might help. A half hour later she was no closer to a solution than she had been in the elevator, but just creating the mind map with its different colors and spiraling nodes had calmed her down. Besides, the two yoga poses of Downward Dog and Happy Baby were calling her name.

  The next morning, she walked into the tenth floor at Truman and Steinbrecker, nursing an upset stomach and no clear plan of action regarding the note. As soon as she rounded into her cubicle, the man with the red beard popped up.

  Nikka stretched out her hand to play nice. “Hi, I’m Nikka.”

  “I have a full tank today.” He eyed her like the competition.

  “So do I.” Nikka glared right back. “And the inside track from yesterday.” She might have a nervous stomach, but only she had to know that.

  She pulled her chair up to the desk and looked for the red blinking light on her phone. It wasn’t lit. That was one hurdle behind her. At least she wasn’t going to be called on the carpet before her day even started. She still hadn’t decided what to do about the phone number and instead dove into the case files on her desk.

  At lunch, she stayed put to look up that appeal on the BMW case. It hadn’t come down yet, so she called the dentist to cancel. Two things to cross out on her to-do list. Already she could feel the spike in endorphins even before she slid her lucky metallic pen across the entries. It was why she went old school and hand-wrote her to-do list. No Todoist or Wunderlist for her.

  She hunted around in her purse for the paper but couldn’t find it. In the end she had to make a new list, and true to the rules of the to-do list manifesto, she couldn’t put down something she had already done. Damn.

  Around two, the phone rang shrilly, startling her. She was thigh-deep in work, drawing up a trademark contract for a lead attorney, and wasn’t ready for the voice on the other end.

  “Hi, this is Alison, Lea’s assistant. She would like to see you. Can you come to her office?”

  “S…sure. I’ll be right there.” Nikka put down the phone with a shaking hand. When she stood up, thin ribbons of pain ran through her stomach again. Here it was. The moment of truth. To tell or not to tell.

  She stepped into Lea’s office focused on exactly what she was going to do and stood in the middle of the room while Lea finished up a phone call.

  “That’s unfortunate, but all you have to do is keep it together up there for a few more days. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

  Nikka almost felt sorry for the “her,” poor person, and straightened the hem on her skirt for the third time since she’d entered the office.

  “Yes, and then we’ll go out and celebrate… Sure, that place with the craft beers… Yes, I promise.”

  As soon as Lea dropped the phone back into the cradle, Nikka made her move. “Look, Lea. I need to tell you what happened yesterday when you sent me into Beth Walker’s house with that note.”

  Lea raised an eyebrow. “All right.”

  “I meant to give that note to Vivienne, but I stupidly stumbled into Ms. Walker’s room. Vivienne was nowhere to be found when I went in, and I heard noises. And I just assumed… You were absolutely right. Ms. Walker isn’t at all well, and I think I startled her. When Vivienne came in, she went straight to Ms. Walker to help her, and in the commotion I forgot to give her the paper.”

  Lea leaned back in her desk chair and folded her arms across her chest.

  She thought she would feel better after the confession, but pain jabbed her in her gut again. Lea was wrong. This was exactly like being in a headmistress’s office. Or so she imagined. Her parents had never had the money for a ritzy private education.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that when you got in the car?” Lea asked.

  “There’s no excuse for that except I wanted to make a good impression. I’ve worked here three years, and all I’ve said to you in all that time is ‘thank you for this opportunity’ when you hired me. I didn’t want the next statement to be something like I can’t even deliver a piece of paper. It’s silly, I know, but there it is.”

  Lea just stared at her, her hard gaze traveling up and down for a long, long moment. So long that Nikka had enough time to mentally pack up her things at her new desk and start composing her phone call to her father to explain how she had lost her new position in just over twenty-four hours.

  “Well, the silly thing is you did.”

  “Sorry?” And when Lea didn’t answer, she asked, “Did what?”

  “Make a good impression.”

  “How?” Nikka looked around. Was she being punked?

  “I think I have something of yours.” Lea handed her a piece of paper with TO-DO written in bold letters at the top.

  Nikka felt the heat on her face as she plu
cked it out of Lea’s outstretched hand. No wonder she couldn’t find it. When that crazy bike woman startled her, she must have dropped it into the depositions, but how on earth was this particular OCD compulsion impressive?

  “Despite what you may have thought, I didn’t call you in here to grill you about the note. Actually, I called you in here to ask you about something on that list. The BMW appeal. Did you look it up?”

  “I did. It’s still pending, but if it—”

  “Yes, I know. I’m tracking it too.” Lea tapped the files on her desk. “This whole case hinges on the result, and I have to say, I’m impressed that from just cleaning up your car, you recognized that as well.”

  Nikka stood up a little straighter. “Thank you…Lea.”

  “So I checked around a little this morning. Word in the office is that you have a first-rate legal mind, a flair for innovation, and a knack for tying up loose ends.”

  Nikka nodded, trying to mentally jump ahead of the compliment. Where was she going with this talk?

  “You’ve seen for yourself what kind of shape Beth Walker’s in. There was an accident in her past that has always made her physically fragile. And I’m afraid that she’s tottering in and out of dementia. What a shame that such a great author would end up like this. And so we need to rally around her. If times get any tougher for her, I want to make sure that her revenue stream is in place.”

  In her mind’s eye, Nikka put all her belongings back on her desk. “What do you need me to do?”

  Lea got up and walked around her desk to lean on it, bringing herself down to Nikka’s level. “It involves some time out of town. Can you get someone to look after your cat for a while? I assume that’s who the cat food was for.”

  “Yes, I can.” The heat in her cheeks rose again.

  “Good. I need you to go back up to Steelhead Springs and be my ears and eyes on the ground. Walker’s brother was a horrible businessman. He never negotiated any real licensing deals. Just Mickey Mouse contracts that practically invited the town to take advantage of Walker.”

  “Got it.”

  “We need to tighten up the commerce in that town and make sure that poor Beth gets the money she deserves from all those trinkets that are being sold up there. You’ll have to be a bit of a hard-ass with the mom-and-pop stores up there. Will that be a problem?”

  “No. The law speaks for itself.”

  “It certainly does.” Lea nodded once. “Glad you’re on board.” She got up and walked to the glass door, calling to her assistant, “Alison? Is the paperwork for Steelhead Springs ready?”

  Nikka watched in wonder as Lea crossed the room. Everything around her boss had suddenly come into focus. The custom-built modern furniture, the breathtaking view of the bay, the sheer size of the office—she hadn’t seen any of it before. When she crept in, she had been so nervous. Now, her possible future materialized right before her eyes.

  On board? She couldn’t get any more on board if Lea had hung down a ladder and pulled her up herself.

  Alison jumped up from her desk and handed Lea a file. She checked it and then passed over a long, numbered list of all that Nikka would have to accomplish up in the Springs.

  “Just put a to-do at the top here, and you should be right at home.”

  Nikka searched Lea’s face. Was she being snide?

  A smile flashed for an instant at the edge of her boss’s mouth. Nikka’s stomach flipped over one last time and was silent.

  Look at her. Joking with the boss.

  Lea slid one hand down the file. The other, she placed lightly on Nikka’s arm. Her touch made Nikka’s whole arm tingle. “And here’s my private number. Call me if anything comes up.”

  Nikka let her gaze fall to the bottom of the page. Wait a sec…

  That was odd. The exact same number on the note. Why would Lea ask her to give Vivienne her private line? Wouldn’t Vivienne already have it? She immediately dropped the thought like a hot potato. She was in the inner circle. It was nice and warm in here, and she’d be crazy to open that door and let the cold air in.

  File in hand, Nikka strode down the hallway back to the cubicle farm as if she owned the place, a much different walk than the one a few minutes ago.

  The red-bearded man threw her a questioning look as she passed.

  She gave him a shit-eating grin and a knowing wink as she grabbed her purse and her keys.

  Let him sit there and wonder.

  CHAPTER 4

  March 1960

  The obvious answer to—how had Dawn put it?—could you take me on had to be a determined no.

  “I don’t have any experience with babies,” Beth said. “I haven’t even held one. You should get someone like a nanny or a midwife or, I don’t know, someone who could actually accomplish something in an emergency.”

  “That’s not what we’re looking for,” James said. “Dawn’s as healthy as a horse. We need someone who can drive her around on a daily basis. Dawn can’t drive.”

  “I can, but not well,” Dawn said.

  “It’s the same thing. Besides we need someone just to make this house feel a little less lonely. Someone who won’t bug out being with a movie star. Someone who’s cool with the whole situation and will treat her like a normal person.”

  “And you think that’s me?” Beth’s palms sweated every time she just glanced at Dawn.

  “It will be, once you realize that I’m just like you.” Dawn cocked her head and gave a slight shrug.

  Beth shook her head. There was no universe where Dawn and she were the same, but it was a nice idea.

  James topped off her wineglass. “We’ll make it worth your while.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “What is it, then? We need to get this resolved quickly before I leave.”

  “I don’t know.” Beth let her gaze shift to Dawn’s face. “I’ve never been asked to do anything like this before.”

  Dawn caught her glance. “We can drop it. We don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  Too late. They had zoomed past uncomfortable the moment she walked in the door and found there was no party. She had no idea what this feeling was—the one that made her nerve endings tingle. Truth be told, the proposition scared her down to her toes, but the thought of dropping it scared her even more. Dawn had even implied that she might be able to write when she was out here. She wouldn’t get another chance like this.

  Dawn and James waited for her answer, their stares boring into her.

  She squirmed in her seat. “Okay, if you’re sure you want me… But my father will have to agree first.”

  “Done!” James slapped the table so hard that the wine sloshed around in his glass.

  Had he ever heard no?

  The check written out by James’s own hand, matching her whole salary for a year, arrived at her parents’ house the next day. Her father did a double take and pointed to the four zeros all neatly in a row.

  “What exactly are you going to do out there?” he asked.

  “Drive her around, run errands, help around the house.”

  “Seems like an awful lot of money for a Girl Friday.”

  “Mr. Montgomery needs to have this settled before he leaves for Italy.” Beth took the check back. Her father was right. It was a ton of money. She was playing in a whole new league with the Montgomerys. Maybe that’s how movie stars did things.

  “You’re going to have to tell Hank.” Her father reached for the drink on the coffee table.

  “I know.” Beth grinned.

  Beth chose a time when the office was empty and Hank had his flask out openly on his desk.

  “Hank, do you have a minute?”

  He grunted.

  Beth wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but she sat down across from him anyway. “I found another job. Starting tomorrow, I am working for Dawn Montgomery.”

  “Are you serious? You’ll see Dawn Montgomery every day?” His eyes doubled in size, and his mouth stayed open with the ques
tion.

  “Absolutely. They invited me out to dinner yesterday and asked me.” She felt a little like a celebrity herself.

  He flounced back against his office chair, eyeing Beth up and down as if he were looking at her for the first time. “Well, go figure. Who would have thought it?” He licked his lips greedily. “And when their friends come up and see what a great town Steelhead is, you’ll invite me over, right?”

  Beth laughed.

  “No, seriously.”

  “I think Mrs. Mont…Dawn’s buying a little bit of privacy with this house, Hank. Maybe that’s the point.” Dawn rolled off her tongue easily, and Hank was eyeing her as if she mattered. Yep, she could get used to this.

  “I’m not an idiot. I get it. I’m not inviting myself over for tea and a game of bridge, just a meet-and-greet with some people who have ready cash to plunk down on vacation homes. It’s a whole new market, this Hollywood crowd. I’d be foolish not to tap into it. And you could help me, you know. I’d even throw a small commission your way if we could pull this off.” He reached across the desk and grabbed her arm for emphasis.

  Beth cringed the moment his fingers dropped on her skin, but she couldn’t shake the knowledge that she might need Hank again if her new dream job went south. “They’ll have to bring it up.”

  He moved his head up and down so rapidly his stringy hair flapped against his forehead.

  “And we’ll come to you, if they do.”

  “Of course. Of course.” He released her.

  She rubbed her arm with her other hand and quickly spun out of his office without waiting for his dismissal.

  “Keep in touch, Beth.”

  Beth didn’t reply. She just walked out the door. With a little luck, for the very last time.

  As Beth was standing on Dawn’s stoop, all of her little victories behind her, her initial fears returned in a rush. What was this job really? Would she be more of a friend or a maid or something in between that had no clear label?

 

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