Absolute Zero

by Anlyn Hansell

  That seemed safe enough…

  “Sure. It’s beautiful, really. Although…it’s kind of odd in way,” she added as an afterthought.

  “Really? What’s so odd?” Paul the bartender piped up. She hadn’t noticed he was standing there what with her attention focused on McClellan’s magnetizing stare.

  “Well, it’s hard not to notice. And maybe…I don’t know…” she trailed off.

  “What?” both men asked at the same time. She was drawing attention to herself and becoming more apprehensive from their focused concentration on her.

  “Who’s Shelby Collins?” she asked innocently enough. Her eyes were on Paul, whose expression changed from smiling to stunned in a mere fraction of a second.

  Silence. And then movement to her right.

  She noticed at least three hundred dollar bills appeared on the bar surface before McClellan stood next to her, pushing the stool back under the bar. She watched as he shrugged his coat on, never bothering to look at her as he performed the task.

  “Paul? Keep the change. Anne? Good evening,” he stated politely enough before turning and wandering toward the front door. She watched him until he disappeared from her view and continued to stare at the front door, completely confused.

  A throat clearing behind her caused her attention to shift back to Paul.

  “What did I say?” she asked quietly. He was still looking at her with the strangest expression on his face.

  “You probably don’t know…” he offered, his eyes peering at her closely.

  “Know what?”

  He blew out a short breath before answering.

  “Shelby Collins was Ian’s wife.”

  Chapter Five

  I am a moron.

  Even the music thumping through her earbuds early the next morning wasn’t enough to drown out that one single thought that kept popping up in her brain. She pressed the button on the treadmill accelerating to the highest speed setting as her body naturally adjusted into a full-out run.

  What he must think of her. He probably thought she did that on purpose. Of course, it was an innocent enough statement. How could she have known? Stop thinking about that. Concentrate on running…

  He must have loved her profusely, turning the town into some sort of shrine to his late wife. How long ago? What happened to her? If she would have stayed long enough, Paul would have told her, she was sure. Instead she left soon after McClellan did, mentally lambasting herself the entire ride back to the house.

  She should apologize. She might be a ‘surly curmudgeon’, as McClellan pointed out the night before, but she was never purposefully nasty. Not unless provoked. So he came on a bit strong the night before, but it certainly didn’t warrant the unintended hurt her words probably caused. It must have hurt. He went from friendly to cold in a blink.

  I should apologize.

  I should stop thinking about this. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why am I still thinking about this?

  Her hand reached out to increase the acceleration a bit more, pulling back when she realized that she wasn’t going to be able to run way any faster from her thoughts than the machine would allow.

  *****

  She was practically flying on that treadmill. Her body was cut, perfect really. Sweat glistened off her shoulders, on her chest. She was wearing tight-fitting workout clothes, the bright purple of the tank stained darker by a trail of sweat. He stood mesmerized for a moment before shaking his head and heading for the weight area.

  Maybe she had no idea. She had only been in town for a couple of days. Maybe she didn’t know. It wasn’t as if she was a sociable creature anyway. But then again, if she did know, well, that would put her into a whole other category of person…

  Everyone in the small town knew to keep that subject from popping up. Who knew what they said behind his back, but they certainly knew enough to keep from talking to him about it. He laid in bed last night, thinking about her innocent enough words, reliving the past that should be dead to him by now. Apparently it wasn’t. Apparently it was still fresh enough to cause pain. Apparently time did nothing to heal deep wounds to the subconscious mind.

  He would push Anne from his mind, concentrate on his body for now; forget that the compelling creature running hell bent for nowhere was in such close proximity.

  *****

  He was here. In the gym. At 5:00 in the morning. As soon as she caught a glimpse in her peripheral vision, her stomach immediately performed a flip, followed by a strange fluttering. She might have thought that her mind could keep that reaction at bay. Her body had other plans, unfortunately.

  The perusal she involuntarily gave him last night was affirmed by the ripped, corded muscles on his arms, his legs. Terri the Tour Guide wasn’t kidding when she said he was a big proponent of physical exercise. Her eyes wandered yet again to the mirror in front of her, angled in a way that she could watch him in the weight area. He was lying on a bench, pushing a bar laden with weights on either side, performing bench presses. Her eyes shut and squeezed together, trying to stop looking. One eye popped open slightly before she squeezed it shut again.

  What is wrong with you?

  She should finish up, go to the women’s locker room, get ready for work and hide out until six when her keycard would give her access to the office. It was only an hour. She could take a leisurely shower; spend extra time on her hair and makeup, read a book on her phone or something…

  He sat up suddenly, their eyes meeting in the mirror for a quick moment before he turned away. She almost stumbled. Almost.

  Her finger pressed the button to decelerate as she dropped down to a brisk walk before shutting the machine down completely. Looking at the digital readout on the screen, she realized that she had just run a mini-marathon in half-decent time.

  She busied herself with wiping the machine down, her eyes inadvertently wandering over to him before snapping back to the task at hand.

  This was absolutely ridiculous. She was a well-educated, grown woman acting like some awkward teenager.

  Just do this.

  Throwing the towel in the small bin near the door, she took the deepest breath possible before turning and walking with resolution toward her intended target. He was seated on a machine near the far end of the room, his back turned towards her as he pulled two bars toward him, causing his biceps to bulge. Her mouth was suddenly dry as her nerves decided to return at the precise moment when he looked up to see her standing before him. Swallowing the lump in her throat she immediately opened her mouth after licking her parched lower lip.

  “I’m sorry.” There. She did it.

  “What?” he immediately answered before setting the bars down and removing the ear bud from one of his ears. “What was that?” he added, his gaze now fully penetrating hers.

  She gave a nervous cough to clear her throat. “I said I’m sorry,” she stated again, her weight shifting from one foot to the other.

  “For what?”

  For real? Was he going to draw this out?

  “For…you know. I didn’t know, and…I’m just sorry, that’s all,” she stated before waiting a beat while their eyes locked and her discomfort rose to an almost unbearable level.

  “All right?” was his only response and it was even more confusing than if he would have said nothing at all.

  She unconsciously licked her lower lip again, before taking a step back. “So…Ok then,” she stammered before turning away and walking at a brisk pace toward the door to the women’s locker room.

  He watched her retreat until she disappeared behind the door before he was able to take a breath again.

  A smile spread on his lips ever so slowly. It positively had to kill her to do that.

  There might be hope for Anne Bennett after all.

  *****

  Happy Birthday.

  I miss you. CALL ME!

  Love you - Beth

  She stared at her phone, confused for a moment before realization dawned. It was her birt
hday. Thirty…something. She had already passed that point where birthdays had become meaningless other than to remind her that she was getting closer to middle-aged and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Thanks for reminding me.

  I’ll call you tonight. Promise

  She finished typing, taking note of the time on the top right of her screen. 6:02. The office would be open, the only glitch was leaving the relatively safe confines of the women’s locker room and venturing out through the gym to the door that lead to the office. She wondered if he was still in the gym, hopefully he was in the men’s locker room or maybe he had made his way to his office.

  She slowly opened the door leading to the gym, her eyes giving a quick scan of the room beyond to find it empty, thankfully. This, of course, was ridiculous; emphasized by the fact that she ran on tiptoes through the room before waving her keycard near the sensor by the door.

  Please open, she thought as her head turned toward the inside of the gym quickly. Still no one there. The sensor gave a beep and the door lock clicked; a most welcome sound as she pushed the door open and stepped through to the empty hall beyond.

  *****

  “Happy Birthday.”

  Her head snapped up in total confusion to see Emma or “Em” standing in front of her desk with what looked like a large domed Tupperware container.

  “I made red velvet. Do you like red velvet?” she asked with a smile as she lifted the object in front of her chest.

  “Umm…what? How did you know?” Anne’s eyebrows scrunched together as she stared at the translucent plastic container.

  “Oh! We get a list from HR, it’s one of the first things we do around here, put everyone on the birthday list. Everyone gets a cake for their birthday.”

  “But…you don’t even know me,” Anne blurted before biting her bottom lip.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter,” she laughed before leaning in and speaking in a lower tone. “We love to eat for any occasion around here. I mean any occasion. Like when McClellan leaves? We’ll have a cake for that,” she stated honestly causing an unexpected small snort of laughter to erupt from Anne.

  “I…ah…Ok,” Anne stammered.

  “Hopefully you like cake?”

  Actually, cake and I used to be the best of friends, Em.

  “Umm, sure?” To be honest, she couldn’t remember the last time she had even allowed herself to eat something as nutritionally worthless as a piece of cake.

  “Great! It’s my secret recipe. I broke out the big guns for you. I hope you like it,” she stated before backing away. “I’ll just put this in the fridge. We’ll cut it at lunch OK?”

  Anne’s response was a small shrug and a nod as her eyes followed Em’s retreating back before she turned a corner.

  When was the last time anyone actually made her a cake?

  Way too long ago.

  The cake was far too big for a four-person family and it had taken her mother and sister hours to decorate it while Anne was at school. It was beautiful and her Mother was so proud of it, presenting it after dinner. Of course Sam ruined the moment, as he always did…

  “Why’d you make it so big? Like she needs more cake,” he practically sneered as he stared at Anne with barely concealed hatred.

  Anne stared back defiantly from across the table refusing to let the jab puncture her. She could cry in private later.

  “I think it’s beautiful, Sam. Mom? Thanks for the cake,” Anne’s eyes shifted and a small smile appeared for her Mother only.

  “Anne, honey…it’s not right to call your Dad by his first name…” she stated meekly before he rudely interrupted her, as usual.

  “Please, no. By all means, call me Sam. We all know you’re not mine anyway. There’s no way I produced anything that ugly. One day your mom will finally confess to an affair with the neighbor’s dog and we can put this shit to rest, right? So call me Sam…”

  “Sam! How could…?” Her mother couldn’t finish as the ever present trail of tears appeared on her beautiful but drawn face yet again.

  “It’s true. Look at her…” He jerked his head in Anne’s direction.

  “Maybe it’s karma,” Anne stated quietly, her pointed glare piercing Sam’s before wandering over to her sister seated to the left of him. Immediately Sophie’s vivid blue eyes cast down toward the table.

  Sam would retaliate. Not against Anne – never against Anne. Her father was a brilliant man, a well revered Professor of Chemical Engineering, an upstanding citizen and most beloved member of the community in which they lived. He was, to the casual outside observer, a staunch family man, a good provider for his two daughters and stay-at-home wife. He hid his madness well; controlling the two other women in the room with relative ease by his threats. He would not control Anne, or at least that’s what she would tell herself. She was too smart for him and his words and actions proved his intimidation of her even though he would never voice it. He didn’t have to. He would try to break her down, making snide comments about her physically, trying to juice some sort of reaction but he would never succeed. Their relationship went beyond strained to frayed and almost to the point of snapping. He hadn’t quite pushed her over the edge yet, but in time, he would. And then he would pay.

  She looked at her younger sister, a once playful, intelligent and gorgeous young girl who had slowly morphed into a withdrawn, quiet, delicate, almost soulless entity. He did that to her. He did that to their mother also. Another beautiful, delicate, soulless woman who stood for nothing; spoke up but backed down immediately after one of his threatening glares.

  Anne was fifteen at the time, a child prodigy of sorts, taking college level courses in Physics, Chemistry and Biology. She had skipped two grades, once in elementary school and once in middle school which only served to alienate her from the rest of her classmates. No one wanted to hang out with the chubby, ugly, younger kid that had absolutely no purpose socially. That was OK. It helped her focus her attention on the important things in life such as good grades, the possibility of academic scholarships and most importantly, getting out of this house of horrors as quickly as possible.

  Her eyes had snapped to Sam’s to find him staring at her with a wicked, almost knowing smile. His eyes held some sort of sick promise.

  “Got anything else you want to say?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

  Anne contemplated a moment, her gaze flitting once again to Sophie’s bowed head and then shifting to linger on her mother’s pleading eyes.

  “No Sir,” she responded coolly, her eyes never leaving her mother’s.

  She blinked several times, reacquainting herself with the present day, staring at her computer monitor. If she allowed herself to continue, her mind would wander to that day, that moment, that mistake that would shape the rest of her existence. As it was, there was the small burn beginning behind her eyes. Breaking down in front of her new coworkers would be a huge error in judgment, would draw attention and would allow Sam to once again make good on his final promise to her. It simply wasn’t going to happen. Instead she would concentrate on the extreme thoughtfulness of a woman baking a cake for her. Who does that? Who would do that for me, of all people? Maybe the people in this town really were friendly?

  Or maybe they just really liked cake…

  *****

  “Hmm? Oh, yeah…mmm hmm. What?”

  “Ian, are you hearing anything I’m saying?” his assistant’s voice berated over the speaker phone.

  “Sure. Harper wants a meeting next Monday, I’m flying back Sunday, and…” he bit his lip in concentration because she had said one other thing. What was that?

  “New facility?”

  Right. “Send the forms, I’ll approve moving forward with the project,” he stated. They were speaking of a multimillion dollar investment in a new facility and his yet his mind kept wandering to a stretchy purple tank top hiding two perfectly formed breasts.

  He was clearly losing his mind.

  “Ian?” S
he sounded like she was getting ready to lecture a five-year-old. Mrs. Craigh was quite possibly the most efficient, straight shooting, organized and firm assistant any person could ever ask for. She was also sweet when she wanted to be. Now, however, it appeared she was having difficulty with the numpty on the other end of the line that couldn’t seem to get his head out of his arse. Her tone of voice tried desperately to snap him back to the here and now and her frustration was evident. Ack, I love this woman…She was his third favorite person in the world, he had decided many years ago.

  “Yes?” he finally answered.

  “Where are you?”

  “Er…America?” he responded somewhat dumbly.

  “No! Where is your head? What are you thinking about because it sure as hell isn’t this conversation,” she responded. Her voice was much more quiet, maybe slightly concerned.

  Well. there’s this lass… Nah, definitely not a subject he was going to bring up with his assistant. Of course, she may have some advice…

  On what? It wasn’t as if he had any clear designs on his newest employee. She was just intriguing, that was all. Just intriguing. And obviously distracting. The way she ‘apologized’ this morning was so cute…

  “Ian!?”

  “What!?” he barked back before switching to a more normal tone of voice after a moment. He blew out a frustrated breath. “Right, so send me the paperwork, I’ll sign it. I need to get going, I’ll talk to you later, eh?” He punched the button on the desk phone and turned his attention to the stack of papers on the corner of his large desk. All of them demanded attention from a brain that just didn’t feel like paying them any.

  He had been gone too long. The American facility could be just as productive and innovative as the lab in Scotland and yet he wasn’t pushing the issue, content to let Rand run the place as he saw fit and perhaps that was a mistake. It could be so much more. Or it could be nothing at all…

  The other facilities were flourishing while the American facility stayed stagnant and it was his fault. His personal life was dictating his professional life and it was probably time to turn that around.