by Karen Booth
“I’ll get to the bottom of this. I swear.”
“Call me as soon as you know something,” Miranda said. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Clay hung up and took a moment to shut his eyes and breathe. None of this could be real. There had to be a logical explanation. Still, he couldn’t keep thoughts of the last few days, weeks, and months with Astrid from shuffling through his mind. He’d fought so hard at first to keep her away, all to protect himself and his daughter. Had he let a beautiful face cloud his judgment again?
That’s not it. That can’t be it. Everything you feel for her is real. You have to find out the truth.
He tried Astrid’s cell, but it went straight to her voice mail. Clay paced in his office, feeling like a caged animal. He was desperate for Astrid to arrive. All he needed was to see her face and hear her say that this obviously crazy story was a lie.
Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. “You were looking for me?” Astrid appeared in his doorway, holding a bakery bag, fresh-faced and gorgeous. The sight of her smoothed his ragged edges. “I stopped to get you a doughnut.”
“That’s so sweet.” He rushed to her and kissed her cheek. This was no time for sweets, but he was thankful nonetheless. “I’ve been trying to reach you. Tara has, too.”
“What? I didn’t get any calls.” She dug her phone out of her handbag, her eyes wide with surprise. “I take that back. You did call me. So did Miranda and Tara. I turned the ringer off when I was at your house all weekend and I forgot to turn it back on. What’s going on?”
Clay quietly closed the door behind her so they could have some privacy. This could be an awkward conversation and he wanted to protect her from office gossip. “We have two big problems. I think you should sit.”
“What in the world? You’re scaring me.” As he suggested, she perched in one of the chairs opposite his desk.
He took the seat next to her. “The first thing is Seaport. There is no deadline extension. It’s this Wednesday.”
Astrid reared back her head and her luscious mouth formed a pout. “No. That can’t be right. I’ll call Sandy and get it straightened out.”
“Tara called the city and she doesn’t work there, Astrid. They’re saying she never did.”
“I have her cell number. I can call her directly.”
“You should probably do that, but I don’t know what good it’s going to do. That doesn’t change the fact that we had the wrong date, and now we have the right one.” Clay was hit with a truly abhorrent thought. What if Astrid was lying? Was she capable? He hated that he was even thinking it—it clawed at his insides—but he couldn’t help the way his brain was wired. Skepticism and doubt had long been his default. Take a breath. She would never lie.
“I’ll call her as soon as you tell me what else is wrong.”
This part was going to be treacherous. He didn’t relish it at all. The pain of losing Johnathon was still fresh for everyone, but especially the wives. He’d heard it well up in his sister mere minutes ago. “Miranda received an email. As outlandish as this might sound, it not only came from Johnathon’s Sterling account, the message itself was written as though it was from him. It says that you and he were romantically involved after your divorce.” Every new word out of his mouth made this sound more impossible, but that wasn’t as much comfort as he would’ve liked. He couldn’t get past this feeling that something was very, very wrong. “It says that you two slept together after he and Miranda got engaged.”
He watched as the color drained from Astrid’s face and her expression fell. Her beautiful facade crumbled. More telling, she offered no defense. He felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him. Oh, my God. Is it really true?
* * *
Astrid was sure she was going to be sick. Her stomach pitched. Her head spun. She wanted to curl into a ball, shut her eyes and make this all go away. But the time had come. The day she’d feared so much was here. She wanted to believe that he would understand, but she was so unsure. Everything between them was still so fragile and new.
Craving the comfort of his touch, she reached for his hand, but he didn’t curl his fingers around hers as he normally would. His skin felt cold. In many ways, it felt as if he already knew the truth and had passed judgment. “Let me explain.”
His cheeks colored with what she feared might be anger. “Is it true?”
Tell him and get it over with. “It is.” The confession brought no relief. He dropped her hand. She could see the toll this was taking on him. She’d known all along that this would happen. That was why she’d tried so hard to shoulder the burden on her own.
“I can’t even believe what you’re saying. Why did you do that? When he was about to marry someone else?”
“It was an accident.”
Impatient and exasperated, he stormed up out of his chair and crossed the room, deepening the sense of divide between them. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?”
“I had no idea he was romantically involved with someone else. I was tucked away at home in Norway. When we divorced, I lost so many friends. I didn’t know what he was up to here at home.”
“Even if that’s true, you kept this from my sister? After you two have gotten so close?” He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes wild with anguish. “Is that why you bought her that stroller? Threw her the party? Out of guilt?”
Astrid knew she was in the wrong here, but that was deeply hurtful. “If it’s true? I wouldn’t lie about this.”
“Oh, but you did. You hid this from Miranda. You hid it from me, the whole time we were together. You had plenty of opportunities to tell me. I’m looking back at every moment we had together and now I have to see it through a lens of lies.”
Now she could see how doomed she and Clay had been from the start. She could have told Miranda the day she found out and dealt with the repercussions, but that only would have given him more ammunition for his argument that they didn’t work well together. “Please don’t look at what we have that way. There were no lies. There was this one thing that I kept to myself.”
“And I don’t see how you could do that.”
“I knew it was just going to hurt everyone. When I arrived at Johnathon’s funeral, I knew nothing of Miranda or their marriage. You can ask Tara or Grant. He kept me in the dark. I don’t know why he did that.” It was yet another mystery of Johnathon that might never be solved.
“The email makes it sound like you seduced him, not the other way around.”
“I don’t understand that part of what you said. Who would pose as Johnathon and send an email?”
“I don’t know, Astrid. None of today makes sense. Why would Sandy appear out of nowhere a few weeks ago and give you the wrong information about Seaport?”
The wheels in Astrid’s head were turning...her run-in with Sandy and how all of this might be connected. “That’s it. That has to be it. Johnathon’s brother. I think there’s some connection between Sandy and him.” Her mind flew to the first time she met Clay, right in this office. She was not only instantly attracted to him, she was equally intrigued by his quiet intensity.
She walked over to the photo on his credenza, the one of Johnathon and Miranda on their wedding day, flanked by Clay and Delia. She picked it up and showed it to him. “The day I met you, I saw this photo, and that was when it clicked. Remember, I asked when the wedding was? That’s why I rushed out into the hall that day. I’m sure you thought I was crazy, but I was in shock.” She looked back up at him, realizing this bit of information wasn’t convincing him that she was telling the truth. “I told Tara right after that. I think Sandy was out in the hall.”
The incredulous look on his face told her all she needed to know. He didn’t believe her. “This all feels like you covering your tracks. How am I supposed to trust you now?”
That felt lik
e a dagger aimed straight at her heart. She wanted to defend herself, but even more important, she wanted to say something that would make Clay take a deep breath, step back, and look objectively at what was going on. He was letting his old fears and distrust cloud his judgment. “You can trust me because I love you.”
He turned to her and froze, but didn’t say a thing. His expression was calculating, his eyes reflecting the complicated processes that went through his head. It was part of parcel of Clay, and such a huge component of what she loved about him. But in that moment, it was the most devastating thing she’d ever endured. Love wasn’t a conclusion to arrive at. It was either in your heart or it wasn’t. Clearly, he didn’t feel the way she did.
She stepped closer to him, aching to be wrapped up in his embrace, but he crossed his arms to keep her out. It was like she was watching him rebuild that old familiar wall around himself, stacking it up, brick by brick. “You really don’t believe me, do you?”
“No matter what facts come out, Astrid, there is one set of details that isn’t in dispute. You knew I had trust issues. You knew I had very strong reasons to protect myself and Delia and how badly we’d been hurt.” His voice was a vessel for his pain, cracked in two. “And you let me let you in, even when you were carrying around a secret that you knew would hurt Miranda. She is the one person who has always been by my side and she’s going to be destroyed when she finds out this is true.”
“I’m sorry, Clay. I truly am. I will make things right with Miranda. I’ll explain it all.”
He shook his head emphatically, his jaw tight and his eyes dark. “No. I can’t let you do that. It’s over, Astrid. There is no more you and me. I can’t let you be close to me anymore.”
“Just like that? Even when I love you?” Once again, her opening of her heart and soul went unanswered.
There was a knock at the door, which Clay quickly took as his excuse to end their conversation. Tara poked her head in. “Astrid, what happened with the Seaport deadline?”
This was officially the worst day ever. Not only was everyone mad at her, Clay had just ripped her heart out. “Let me try to track down Sandy. Something sketchy is going on.”
Tara and Clay exchanged glances. “It doesn’t matter at this point,” Tara said. “That won’t change the deadline. The other firms are going to be ready to present on Wednesday and we have to be, too. Grant is in the conference room. We need to sit down and figure out a strategy. Right now.”
Astrid and Clay dutifully followed Tara down the hall, but Astrid felt as though she was about to find her head on the chopping block. She’d stupidly allowed herself to think that she could find new purpose at Sterling. Clearly, she’d managed to ruin what chance she had, and the thought of trying to salvage it was so daunting. All paths at Sterling led to Clay. There was no avoiding him, which had been the trouble all along.
Inside the meeting room, several junior architects and members of the support staff were assembled. Grant stood at the large whiteboard, where he’d written up a flow chart of the things that needed to happen before Wednesday. It was so much work. An absolute mountain of it, and it was all her fault that they had to rush to complete it. Astrid sat at the table, next to Tara. Clay chose to stand on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall.
“Thank you, everyone, for dropping everything to help us save the Seaport project,” Grant said. “There was a mistake with the deadline we were working under, and we have an enormous amount of work to finish by Wednesday morning.” Grant took a drink of water from a glass on the table. Meanwhile, Astrid felt all eyes on her. If the staff hadn’t expressly been told that it was her mistake, the Sterling Enterprises rumor mill had clearly kicked into high gear. “Clay and I will finish the final plans, along with help from the junior architects. Tara and Astrid will work from the administrative side to prepare the presentation and the materials that accompany that.”
Tara rose from her seat. “We’ll be working late the next two nights, and coming in early the next two mornings. But Grant and I want everyone to know just how much we appreciate your extraordinary effort. The Seaport Promenade project was a passion project for Johnathon Sterling, and it will be an important piece of his legacy if we land it. We have a good chance, but it’s going to take all of us to make it happen. Now let’s get to work.”
The noise level went up as everyone broke into conversation and began to file out of the room. Astrid pulled Tara aside. As terrible as Astrid had felt when she walked into this meeting, it was now worse. If they lost the project, it would be Astrid’s fault, and she would have let everyone down when all they were trying to do was honor Johnathon’s life and career. “I don’t even know what to say other than I’m sorry. I feel like that’s so inadequate, though.”
“We all make mistakes, Astrid. We’ll get through it.”
“I know. But it’s really important to me to do a good job, and that means helping the team. Right now, I’m hurting us.”
“Okay, then. Let’s focus on doing the opposite.”
Astrid received the message, loud and clear. “Okay. I’ll stay overnight the next two nights if I need to.”
“Good. Because that might be what we’ll need.”
Astrid ducked out of the conference room and immediately pulled up the contact information for Sandy on her phone. She called her cell, but it rang and rang. It didn’t even go to voice mail. Astrid knew there was something that wasn’t right about this, but she had nothing to go on. This phone number was the only piece of information she had about Sandy.
Astrid hurried to her office and gathered her Seaport materials, armfuls of binders and notebooks, and began carting them off to a second meeting room, where she and Tara could collaborate, along with a team of four admins. They worked straight through the day, having lunch and dinner brought in. Astrid made several more attempts at reaching Sandy, but had the same result every time—endless ringing and no answer. Another dead end.
Around 10:00 p.m., Tara sent the admins home and suggested she and Astrid go catch up with Clay and Grant. Astrid was a bundle of nerves walking down the hall, not knowing how Clay would receive her. Tara immediately went to Grant when they arrived, leaving Clay and Astrid to talk.
“Hey,” she said. “How’s it going for you guys?”
“Slow. Exhausting.” Clay’s voice was clipped and terse.
Astrid was tired, too, and his attitude toward her wasn’t making any of this easier. “I tried to call Sandy. I don’t get any answer. I guess she lied to me. I don’t really understand it.”
“I know you’re trying to dig yourself out of this hole, but I think you should probably accept where you are. I spoke to the IT department and they verified the email Miranda got came from Sterling. And since we both know that Sandy has no access to Sterling and hasn’t worked here in nearly two months now, it seems to me like those two things are unrelated.” He cast a glance at her, but quickly returned his sights to his work. “And it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change anything at all. Let me get back to work so I can get through these next two days, okay?”
Astrid pressed her lips together hard to ward off the tears stinging her eyes. She would not cry. She had to stay positive, even in the face of unimaginable obstacles. Everything she cared about had taken a hit today—her love for Clay, her relationship with Tara and Miranda, and the fate of Sterling Enterprises. These were also the things keeping her in San Diego. The only things.
Maybe the writing was on the wall. She’d wondered if she could build a life here, and she’d made a valiant effort. Perhaps it was time to admit defeat and return to Norway. She’d never last at Sterling beyond Wednesday if this was to be her working relationship with Clay. If she’d thought it had been strained at the beginning, this was so much worse. She loved him and she couldn’t undo her feelings. She couldn’t wish them away. But she also couldn’t do a thing to change everything e
lse that had happened.
She could only find a way to move forward. And it looked as though she would be doing that alone.
Thirteen
Wednesday morning had arrived. Astrid’s second all-nighter at Sterling was done. She was exhausted and sad, especially as she wished Tara good luck on the presentation, which was only hours away. She didn’t have the chance to say goodbye to Clay, as he was downstairs loading the Sterling Enterprises van, but she’d planned accordingly.
“You two will do great. I know it,” Astrid said.
“You’re sure about leaving?” Tara asked. “I think we salvaged the presentation, and I know people are giving you the cold shoulder now, but they’ll come around. A few sleepless nights will eventually become a distant memory.”
Astrid was sure of only one thing, which was that this had been a fun experiment, but she’d become collateral damage. “The thing I loved about working here was being part of the team. That’s gone now. For right now, this is the best choice for me.”
“Did you tell Clay?”
Astrid held up a note. “I’ll leave this on his desk. He can read it when he comes back.”
Tara spread her arms wide, and they embraced. “Keep me posted on everything.”
“You, too,” Astrid said. “Let me know how the presentation goes.”
They parted ways and Astrid dropped by Clay’s office one last time. She didn’t stay long or reminisce as she was apt to do. She couldn’t afford to rehash what might have been. After two days of very little sleep, she was too exhausted. She’d done all she could do, and now she had work of a different sort to do. She had to pack.
The clothes she’d brought for Johnathon’s funeral went into one of three suitcases, along with everything she’d bought since she arrived. She decided to leave the navy gown she’d worn for the Architect of the Year awards in a garment bag in the closet. That dress had wonderful memories. She hoped that one day she’d be able to look back at it fondly. Right now, it simply hurt too much.