My options for footwear included a pair of black pumps with a worn down heel, Keds, the blue tags on the backs long gone, or black ballet slippers. Where have these beauties been hiding? I caressed the worn leather, tracing the cracks formed from so much use. I’d had my ballet slippers re-soled and the hole in the toe repaired shortly after Daniel and I moved in together. I’d missed these old things, and discovering them healed a small part of my broken heart. I bet if Daniel saw me in them, he’d remember what they meant too. I put those puppies on and felt like I did every time I wore them…like I could flit around on air.
Time was almost up for me in the apartment—only a few hours left—so I zipped up my suitcase and propped it by the door next to the bags Daniel had packed for me. When I looked at one of the particularly large pieces of luggage, I felt a stab of pain in my chest. Daniel had put all the photographs of us in it—some in frames, most of them loose. As if him telling me it was over wasn’t enough, he had to emphasize that he didn’t want any reminders of us.
He’d disappeared for the entire week. I had slept in our bed along with Muriella, who refused to leave me on my own, used our room as if I still belonged there, and left my mark anywhere I could. I put little mementos in the pockets of his suit pants, jeans, shirts, jackets, in the bathroom drawers, the nightstand, on his pillow. Buttons from clothes we’d ripped off of one another, ticket stubs from concerts we’d seen, the touristy magnets we’d collected from places around the world, my favorite lip gloss that I always made him hold for me.
And the photos…I separated the duplicate copies for myself. The remaining pictures I stuffed in drawers, books, between seat cushions, even in the refrigerator. The framed ones I placed more strategically. Setting them out in the open would have been too obvious, so I put one in the pantry behind his favorite bag of chips. Buried another in his underwear drawer. Hid one in the top of the closet behind the box where he kept important papers. I set up one in the safe, nestled against the most significant piece of jewelry he’d ever given me. I layered the memories—some of them would assault him right away, others would show up later when he wasn’t expecting it.
The only photo I left out in plain sight was one that was taken on our first date. It had had pride of place on his desk for nearly eight years. It hurt the most that he didn’t want it any more. I placed it front and center on the desk in his study, along with the keys to our homes all over the world. They were all on one ring. I knew what each of them went to except one. I’d asked, but he’d never told me, promising that when the time was right, I’d find the lock it fit.
One last touch was necessary before I left. I went to the stereo nestled among the books on the built-in shelves of the study. It only took a moment to find what I was looking for. “Borderline” by Madonna showed up on the touch screen display, and I pressed play, set the repeat function, and turned up the volume so loud it rattled the windows. He had a love/hate relationship with this song, but I knew it would have its intended effect. I might be gone in a few minutes, but I sure as hell wasn’t leaving.
Suitcase in hand, I left the apartment as if I was going on a trip, not like it was the last time I’d ever see it. Our residence took up the entire top floor of the building. Muriella’s apartment was spread out on the one below. I stopped by, and she threw open the door when I rang the bell, flinging her arms around my neck. I let her hug me as long as she wanted, returning the embrace after I abandoned my suitcase.
“Why are you ringing the bell?” she asked.
“I left all my keys upstairs,” I explained, and her face crumpled in pain.
“Don’t go.” Her dark eyes filled with tears as she begged me, and I put on a brave smile.
“I left everything exactly where it was in the foyer. Let him deal with it.” I brushed the errant tear that slid down her cheek when she nodded. “Don’t do that. You’re going to make me cry.”
“You stay here with me. I miss you already,” Muriella choked out between sobs.
I missed her already too. She was the main reason I was holding up as well as I was.
“Now why are you doing a thing like that?” I said as I wiped another tear from her face. “Do you think I would ever give you up? I don’t give a fuck what he says. Just because he thinks he’s God doesn’t make it so. He won’t take you away from me,” I said, hugging her fiercely.
She lifted her head from my chest, her long, dark lashes wet as she blinked up at me. “Watch your mouth,” she chided, and we both grinned.
“If you make me cry, you’re going to hear some serious swearing,” I warned, scrunching my nose to combat the sting in my eyes.
“Who is going to keep you in line, V?”
“You are. You’re going to have to travel a little to do it, but I know you’re up for the task. I can’t make it easy on you, now can I?” I kissed her forehead and wiped away more of her tears.
“This is the first time I’ve ever hated him,” Muriella confessed softly.
I took both her hands in mine. “What do you mean?” The only thing Muriella loved more than Daniel was God. She couldn’t hate him.
“He’s making me choose between you. I hate him for that.” My heart ripped at the pain in her voice. She of all people didn’t deserve to be a casualty of this mess Daniel had created. “You don’t have to choose. You have both of us. I don’t want you to hate him.” I thought I could do that enough for both of us, but it wasn’t as easy as I had assumed. The truth was I didn’t hate him at all, only his ridiculous behavior over the past week.
She smiled solemnly and took my face in her warm hands. “That’s why you’re the angel. I never told you this, but I prayed for you every single day to come to him. God had already answered my prayers once by saving me. I didn’t have the right to ask for anything else, but I did anyway. One night when Daniel came home, I knew God had answered my prayer. There was a spark in his eyes I’d never seen. When I asked him who he’d met, he said he wasn’t sure if it was the devil or an angel. But I knew. He acted like it didn’t matter, so I prayed harder until finally you came to us. The angel. I’m sorry God denied my pleas that you could stay forever.”
I was at a loss for words. This woman had been through unspeakable hell, yet she was the finest person I’d ever known. I had taken for granted having her around every day for many years. I wouldn’t make that mistake any longer.
“I can’t choose between you. I love you both too much.” She cried again in earnest, her grip on my face tightening.
“That’s why you’re going to stay here and look after him. He needs you. I need you to do this for me,” I pleaded. “There is no choice. Do you understand? We are a family, and nothing will change that. This thing we have is bigger than whatever crap is going on right now.”
Muriella straightened her spine, and our strength fed off each other. “I’ll bring you plenty to eat tomorrow. We’ll have lunch.”
“Let me give you a key. You remember the old place?” She scowled, but said nothing as we detached from one another long enough for me to dig out the extra key. “Oh, and M?”
“What is it, V?”
“I left Madonna playing on the stereo upstairs. Please leave it on until he comes back.”
She flashed me a wicked grin. “That will be a nice welcome home for him.” Daniel was always stuck with our choice in music, but his protests were mostly for show.
“Come over to my new place whenever you want,” I said, squeezing her again.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hang on a sec.” She disappeared from the foyer for a moment before returning with a brown paper bag. “This will hold you over for tonight. And I’ll be furious if it’s not all gone by the time I see you again. You need to eat.”
“Wait.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know you’ve already gone to the trouble of cooking, but will you go with me to get something to eat? I—”
Muriella squeezed my hand, understanding in her eyes. “Say no more. Is that new place we h
aven’t tried yet okay?”
“Anything. I don’t really feel like going out, but I can’t take just sitting around alone,” I confessed.
“I’ll wash my face and grab my purse.” She was halfway down the hall to her bedroom when she looked back. “I’m glad you asked. I feel I’ve been no help to you. That you don’t want to burden me.”
“I’d be rotting on the floor and starved to death if it weren’t for you,” I said honestly.
Satisfied, she continued toward her room. I was on her heels. I didn’t want to be alone, not for a second. Muriella would understand, would never accuse me of being clingy even if I was. Thank God I had her. I needed her now more than ever.
Chapter Nine
Vivian
Eight Years Earlier
All communication from Daniel ceased after our chat in front of Paths of Purpose. I was disappointed, expecting more from him. I didn’t envision him as a quitter, someone so easily scared away. And I didn’t think I was asking too much, wanting to know him before intimacy. I couldn’t risk being a one-night stand…not with him. I felt him too much already in places I wasn’t sure I wanted him to be. If he rejected me, the hit would be a blow to my fragile confidence. I’d only alluded to a relationship beyond sex, and he’d shut down faster than a power station struck by lightning.
Except for that brief kiss he’d taken, and I’d been all too willing to give back. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, the memory from a week ago still fresh the way I’d felt that contact from head to toe, like I was his string and he’d plucked me. It was a mistake to give him anything. He’d proved he was in control, and I wanted him to be. My heart was a fragile thing, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could resist him.
I went back to my life, and he did whatever it was he did. I was only a few days away from my six-month evaluation at Hamerstein, but I wasn’t leaving anything to chance, working harder and longer than ever, making sure my presence at this company became a necessity, not an option. All the interns had stepped up their game hoping to get a permanent position, but I didn’t let that discourage me. There was no way in hell I was going back to Texas with my tail tucked between my legs. My desk phone rang at 4:45 on Friday afternoon. Mr. Hamerstein’s secretary summoned me to his office. I smoothed my hair, refreshed my lipstick, and went to my boss’s office. My evaluation wasn’t scheduled for another week, but I squelched the butterflies and put on my game face. I was determined not to leave that office as an intern.
Mr. Hamerstein’s secretary indicated I should sit. The pep talk I’d given myself on the way up went right out the window as I sank into a seat in the intimate waiting area. I crossed my legs and then uncrossed them. Picked up a magazine from the end table and flipped through a few pages without looking at them before tossing it back on top of a few others.
None of the other interns had mentioned meetings with Mr. Hamerstein. Was I being let go? I fidgeted with the sleeves of my sweater, my mind whirring through the past few months to figure out if I’d done anything wrong.
I’d given everything I had to this. Worked long hours. Never complained. Did whatever was asked of me. There was nothing I could have done any better. Still, the knot in my stomach wouldn’t let up.
It took a valiant effort on my part to stay seated, the urge to get up and pace putting me on the edge of the chair.
“Miss DeGraw,” the secretary said behind her desk. My head jerked toward her. I interpreted the smile she gave me as sympathetic. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Mr. Hamerstein will see you now. Go on back.”
I inhaled a lungful of air, pushing to my feet as I released it. Straightening my shoulders, chin up, I strode past the secretary on shaky legs. Mr. Hamerstein’s door was open. He was behind his desk, head bowed as he studied the papers on it. His tanned skin was a stark contrast to his white hair. I’d seen him a few times, actually met him only once, but he was distinguished, had an air of authority. There was never a question that this was his company, which ramped up my nervousness another notch.
I tapped on the door with my knuckles, his eyes finding mine when he looked up.
“Vivian. Come on in.” He took off his glasses and set them on the desk as he stood. His suit jacket gaped, revealing a crisp white shirt and the tip of his emerald and blue striped tie.
“Mr. Hamerstein.” I crossed the plush navy carpet and extended a hand. His eyes were bright and welcoming, which gave me hope.
We shook, and he motioned to the chair across from him. The leather was cool against the backs of my knees.
“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Water?” he offered, somehow spurring my worry instead of quelling it.
I straightened, clasping my hands over one knee. “No, thank you.” The smile I was aiming for was polite. I hoped it came across that way instead of as a scared grimace.
“The evaluations are scheduled for next week, but I’ve already made up my mind in your case. I didn’t see a reason to waste time.” Mr. Hamerstein pushed some papers aside, revealing a leather inlay on the surface of the desk. He leaned back and absently picked up his glasses, twirling them around by the temple tip. “Tell me how you like it here.”
My brows shot up, but I quickly lowered them, clearing my throat. “Um, I’ve learned so much already. This opportunity has been so much more than I imagined. The work is interesting—difficult at times,” I said with a knowing smile. “But interesting. And I love the connection we have with Paths of Purpose. There’s a lot of potential for developing that further.”
His lips curved up into a pleased line, eyes studying me intently. “You’re doing a hell of a job. No matter what department you work with, they always have something to say about you. Whether it’s your work ethic, persistence, or drive. You’ve made quite a name for yourself, Vivian.”
I swallowed hard, still not completely convinced he wasn’t firing me. “Thank you, sir,” I said.
“I’m going to do something I haven’t done in fifteen years. I see a lot of potential in you. What I’m proposing won’t be easy, but I think you’re up for it.” Mr. Hamerstein set the glasses back on the desk and leaned forward. “I’d like you to be my apprentice. I’ll teach you everything I know.” My lips parted as my eyes rounded. He chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised. You’ve earned it.”
“I won’t let you down,” I said when I found my voice.
His eyes softened, his smile broadening. “I know you won’t. If I thought you would, I wouldn’t have asked.” Mr. Hamerstein sniffed at his own wit. I let out a little laugh.
This was really happening. All my hard work was paying off in spades. “I’m thrilled, Mr. Hamerstein, and honored.”
“We only have the best of the best at this firm. I see the traits that could make you a star.” I wasn’t going to bother pointing out there were other interns who were as qualified as I was. If Mr. Hamerstein saw something in me, far be it from me to dissuade him.
“Is this effective immediately?”
He grinned. “See what I mean? Eager to start.”
“I am, sir,” I said solemnly.
“We’ll get to it on Monday. How does a little raise sound?”
“Fantastic, sir.”
“I thought so. In six months, the firm will pay for the necessary schooling for you to get your masters in accounting,” he said with a flair of triumph.
I gripped my knee with both hands to keep from shouting in excitement. “Mr. Hamerstein. Thank you. I—I don’t know what else to say.”
“I’m looking forward to this.” He stood, and I awkwardly followed suit. “Have a good weekend. Relax. We’ll hit the ground running on Monday.”
“I can’t wait.”
Nearly bursting with pride as I stepped out into the November chill, I was on top of the world. I was tempted to call my father, tell him he’d been wrong about me, but I refrained. If he thought so little of me, he didn’t deserve to know about my success. I kept hearing him in my head saying something about counting chickens b
efore they hatch.
“What’s that smile about?” Daniel looked more devastating than I’d ever seen him, in a three-piece suit, Persian blue tie, and long black cashmere coat, a gray scarf hooked around his neck. He fell in step beside me as I moved down the sidewalk.
“What are you doing here?” I was surprised, not unpleasantly, to find him waiting on me. I glanced toward the street, the black car nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s your coat?” Daniel asked, completely ignoring my question. He frowned as he took in my thin sweater and the stockings under my skirt, which did nothing to keep my legs warm.
“In Texas,” I replied nonchalantly. He kept up with me as he shrugged out of his long coat and draped it around my shoulders. All I could focus on was breathing in and out, his enveloping scent a blow to my senses. I temporarily forgot everything else, especially the cold. “I’m fine,” I said, even as I slipped my arms through the sleeves. The coat swallowed me whole. If I wasn’t careful, Daniel Elliott was going to as well, especially if he kept up this behavior. He’d never been blatantly disrespectful, but gentleman wasn’t a description that immediately came to mind.
“Does your coat usually travel without you?” Is he making a joke? The Daniel I had met over the last few weeks didn’t seem capable, always so serious, a man of few words. I’d wondered more than once if he even knew how to laugh.
It's Not Over Page 6