Power Play

by Dara Girard

  Mary raced back and forth to the kitchen, getting appetizers and drinks, until Edmund grabbed her wrist and forced her to sit.

  “You’ve got a great place,” Larry said.

  Mary sat back, trying to relax. “Thanks to Edmund. He gave me a great deal.”

  Sara sipped her drink. “If only we all could be so lucky as to sleep with our landlords.”

  Edmund’s face changed and Larry looked uncomfortable, but Mary tried to laugh it off. “Yes, well, when he looks as good as Edmund I guess I can’t help myself.” When no one responded she said, “Food is almost ready.”

  Mary started to get up, but Edmund took her hand. “Sit down.”

  “But the food—”

  “Is fine. I’ll check on it while you entertain your guests.” He left.

  Mary clasped her hands together and smiled at them. “Well.”

  Sara watched Edmund go. “Kind of forceful, isn’t he?”

  “Sara, leave it,” Larry said.

  “I was only making an observation. I’d hate to see Mary fall for another Curtis.”

  Mary’s tone hardened. “Edmund isn’t anything like Curtis.”

  “No, he has more money.”

  “I like him,” Larry said.

  “You liked Curtis, too. Women who let men sweep them off their feet are in for a fall.”

  “Edmund hasn’t swept me off my feet. I haven’t lost my head, and I really like him. If you gave him a chance you’d like him, too.”

  “I could never trust a man with eyes like that.” She shivered. “As cold as a snake’s.” She sent a poignant glance at Cammie. “Or a lizard’s.”

  “He’s not cold at all.”

  “I think—” She stopped when Edmund returned.

  He sat down close to Mary and took her hand in his. “The food will be ready in a few more minutes.”

  Mary tried to fill those minutes with empty chatter, although no one seemed inclined to talk. Larry stared around the apartment, Sara preferred to sip her drink and Edmund stared at her in a way that made Mary nervous. Sara didn’t like him but what was worse was Edmund didn’t like her and made little attempt to hide it. “I think dinner’s ready,” Mary cheerfully announced, then returned to the kitchen, certain the meal was done. She placed her casserole in a decorative dish and came out into the dining room. Edmund sat alone at the elaborately adorned table. She glanced at the empty seats and panicked. “Where are they?”

  Edmund took the dish from her and set it down. “That looks delicious.”

  “Where are they?”

  He took a knife and cut a piece. “They decided to leave.”

  “What did you say to them? Make them come back here.”

  He placed the slice on his plate. “No.”

  She stared at him, stunned. “You have no right insulting my friends.”

  “Sara is not your friend,” he said softly.

  “Of course she is. She’s been there for me when no one else thought I mattered. She was loyal and looked out for me. Remember when I told you I needed a place to stay?”

  He nodded.

  “Although I would have ended up in my car if not for you, Sara would have given me a place to stay, but Larry’s nephew is staying with them.”

  Edmund sat. “No, he’s not.”

  Mary felt her throat constrict. “What?”

  “Larry was just telling me how well his nephew is doing at Cal Tech. Quite a long commute don’t you think?”

  “But Sara said—”

  “Sara lied to you.”

  “You’re wrong. It was probably another nephew. You don’t know her like I do. She cares about me.” Mary grabbed her coat.

  “You’re not going after them.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He jumped from his seat. “No, you’re not.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she said, remembering Sara’s words. She wouldn’t be controlled by him as she had been by Curtis.

  “You don’t need them.”

  “Yes, I do.” She pulled on her coat and buttoned it. “Who will I have when you leave?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Not now, but you will and then I’ll have no one, and I can’t risk that.” Mary opened the door. “I won’t risk that.”

  Edmund blocked her. “I’m not going to make any promises. I’m not going to say that I’ll always be here, but let me say this. I’d rather die of thirst than drink from a crystal glass filled with water that woman offered me. She doesn’t care about you, and now she envies you. Deep down you know that’s true.”

  Mary pushed past him and caught the elevator. Once on the ground level, she dashed out the front doors—the autumn winds chilling her skin and scattering leaves across her path. When she saw their car pulling out of a parking space, she waved them down. Larry stopped and rolled down the window.

  Mary rested her hands on the door frame. “I’m so sorry about Edmund,” she said in a breathless rush. “Please come back. He doesn’t understand. He thinks that you didn’t offer me a place to stay when I needed one, but I told him how your nephew was staying with you.”

  Larry looked at her, confused. “No one is staying with us.”

  Sara kept her gaze lowered.

  Mary furrowed her brow. “But when I called…” She smiled weakly. “There’s been a misunderstanding.” She looked at her friend. “Sara?”

  Sara turned a cold gaze to her. “Yes, I lied, okay? I didn’t want you staying with us. You’d changed so much I wasn’t sure I could trust you around Larry.”

  “Sara!” Larry said, shocked.

  “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  “But we’re just friends.” He placed his hand on her knee. “You know I love you, honey.”

  Mary gripped the car door, the wind chilling her fingers. “You know you can trust me.”

  “Trust you?” Sara spat out. “You start getting new clothes and makeup and don’t tell me why or where. How am I supposed to trust you?”

  “I thought you’d at least be happy for me.”

  “You seem happy enough for yourself. You only invited us over so you could brag about your great apartment and boyfriend. You’ve got it all, Mary. You don’t need me anymore.” She folded her arms and looked away.

  Mary stared at her, disbelief making her numb. “A person always needs a friend.” Mary released the door. “But I guess you never truly were one.” She turned and walked back inside. She didn’t turn when Larry called out her name.

  Chapter 8

  Mary rode the elevator determined not to cry. When she entered the apartment, Edmund sat at the dining table, his food untouched. After hanging up her coat she joined him at the table and prepared her plate. His gaze never left her. When Mary looked up at him she saw his resemblance to a cold-blooded creature as his calculating stare measured her every mood. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, then took a bite of the casserole. “It’s cold.” She took her plate and his and warmed them in the microwave. Minutes later she returned to the table, handed him his plate and sat down to eat. After a few minutes, she slammed down her fork. “Say something.”

  “You don’t want me to talk about it.”

  “You can talk about something else.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “I won’t let you control my life. Curtis didn’t like my friends, or my choice in decorations or anything. But that’s who I am. I’m not perfect, and I don’t want to be with anyone who thinks I should be. I make mistakes and I don’t want to be judged, okay?”

  “I’m not Curtis.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” She glanced at his untouched plate. “Your food will get cold again.”

  He lifted his fork and took a bite.

  “I’m not sleeping over at your place tonight.”

  He cut into his casserole with unnecessary force.

  “You’re sleeping here.”

  He didn’t look up, but she sensed his smile.

 
“Good riddance,” Mrs. McQueeth said when Mary told her the events of the previous evening.

  Mary handed her a cup of tea, then sat down, incredulous. “You, too?”

  “Sara was jealous of you even before all this, but she just couldn’t stand it anymore.”

  “Jealous of me before this? Why?”

  “Why not? You’re a successful businesswoman.”

  Mary sniffed. “I’d hardly call myself successful—I had no man and hadn’t been promoted in years.”

  “But you’re a jewel. I hope you’ll realize that one day.”

  Mary added sugar to her tea. “Edmund shouldn’t have done what he did that night. And to this day I don’t know what it was. I didn’t hear anything in the kitchen. What did he do or say to them?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s a good man.”

  “He’s a bossy man. Curtis could be bossy, too.”

  “He isn’t Curtis.”

  “So he’s told me,” she said in a flat voice.

  Mrs. McQueeth’s gaze became serious. “You’re happy, Mary. Don’t let anyone take that away from you. Claim your joy.”

  “But he’s hiding something. I don’t know what. I can’t trust someone like that.”

  “So ask him. Or are you afraid?”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “Or perhaps you don’t really want to know.”

  Mary nodded. “That could be it. It’s not as though we have anything serious.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that’s the way we both want it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  Mrs. McQueeth nodded but didn’t look convinced. Mary knew she couldn’t explain her relationship to anyone.

  Edmund stayed at her place a few days and then they fell back into the habit of staying at his. He refused to talk about work or that night but was open about everything else. As autumn turned to winter, Mary’s efforts with the community project paid off. Two grant-funding agencies wanted to know more about the project, and Gregory’s reports met her standards.

  One evening while Edmund went through his mail, Mary stared at pictures of his grandparents he had on the wall.

  “Are your parents dead?”

  “No, they just weren’t ready to be parents when I was little.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m not ready to be their son.” He tossed a decorative white envelope away. Mary saw that it was an invitation.

  She rushed over to the wastebasket and retrieved it. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  She ran her hand over the envelope. “It’s a wedding invitation.”

  “Yes?”

  “Aren’t you curious who it’s from?”

  He opened another envelope. “It’s from my sister,” he said in a flat, disinterested tone.

  “You’re throwing away your sister’s invitation?”

  “Yes.”

  Mary opened it, then showed him. “But it’s a wedding invitation.”

  He shrugged in a casual motion that didn’t look casual at all. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not going.”

  “Why not?”

  “She doesn’t need me there.”

  “But she wants you there.”

  “She’s being sentimental. She’ll get over it.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  His eyes flashed with sudden anger. “Look, she has the family that she wants. She’s chosen the life she wants to live and I’ve chosen mine. She wants our parents in her life and I don’t.”

  Mary was too stunned to let his anger frighten her. “You’re really going to cut her out of your life?”

  Edmund returned to his letters. “I already did.”

  She snatched the letters from him. “You’re going to punish her for her choice because it was different than yours? Isn’t she the same little sister you loved?”

  “She—”

  “She wants her big brother to see her get married. She’s not asking you to reconcile with your parents.”

  He snatched the letters back and continued shuffling through them.

  “Is this your idea of revenge?”

  He slit one open.

  “At least I’ll know what to expect when I do something you disapprove of.”

  “You’re different.”

  “How can I be different?”

  “Because she’s my sister and—”

  “You love her,” Mary finished. He didn’t need to agree, the truth was evident on his face. He loved his sister; he didn’t love her. That was the difference. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did; she shouldn’t have cared, but she did. Mary quickly dismissed the emotions. The old Mary would want commitment; the new Mary didn’t need that from anyone. She didn’t expect Edmund to stay in her life, and it was foolish to expect love from him. She didn’t need him to love her. She was fine keeping things as they were.

  She liked him very much, but it was nothing like the deep attachment she’d felt for Curtis. She’d always been thinking about Curtis, wanting to please him. When she was in a shop she’d wonder what Curtis would like, what he was doing, was he happy. Since knowing Edmund, she’d never asked those questions about him. She didn’t go out of her way to please him; he was very easy to please, in more ways than one. Their relationship was simple without the complicated layer of emotions that had been in her past relationships. She was happiest in this one.

  She made no demands of Edmund and he offered no promises. That was the way they both wanted it to be until it ran its course, however long that would be. Mary glanced at the invitation again with an odd twinge of regret. One day, hopefully not too far in the future, she’d send out a similar announcement, but Edmund’s name wouldn’t be there. She didn’t want to think about that day. She touched the violet lace trim. “This looks handmade.”

  “Probably is. Jenna is very artistic.”

  She set the invitation down. “I’d like to meet her.”

  “Then go ahead and reply. I’m not going.” His gaze briefly met hers with a cold intensity. “That’s the end of it.”

  But it wasn’t the end for Mary. She decided to send in the RSVP, certain she could wear Edmund down before the wedding, but he rebuffed any attempt she made. One busy Thursday afternoon while Mary was meeting with a vendor, Edmund stormed into her office. “Meet me in the conference room. Now.” He spoke the words softly, but they sent a chill through her. Her stomach twisted in fear. But she wouldn’t let fear overwhelm her. “I’ll be with you in a minute, Mr. Davis,” she replied, determined to be professional.

  His ice-cold gaze fell on her colleague. “Then I’ll wait.”

  The vendor jumped from his seat and hastily began gathering his belongings. “There’s no need for you to wait. We’re just about done here.” He dropped several pages on the ground and scrambled to keep his PDA balanced on top of a large stack of folders along with other papers he stuffed under his arm.

  Mary shook her head. “Now, don’t—”

  “Don’t worry, Mary. I can finish from here. You can go on.”

  “Good,” Edmund said, then headed down the hall.

  “He really looks upset,” the vendor said.

  Mary sighed. “I know.”

  When Mary entered the conference room, the first thing she noticed was the blinds. They all remained closed except one, which let a thin sliver of winter light cascade over the long, polished table. Edmund stood at the head of the table with his hands placed before him as though he were ready to address a crowd.

  Mary quietly closed the door behind her, gripping the handle as she watched him. “Should I sit down?”

  “Right now I don’t care what you do.”

  Although his tone never rose above a gentle rumble, the anger behind it penetrated the room’s silence. Mary took a deep, steadying breath and approached the table. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

  “I just received a call.”

  “Oh?” She pulled out a chair.
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  “From my sister.”

  She sat. “Oh?”

  “She thanked me for replying to her invitation.”

  “Oh?”

  “Stop saying that,” he snapped.

  Mary clasped her trembling hands together. “I’m sorry.” She’d expected him to be annoyed, not furious. She wished he’d just shout at her instead of cocooning himself in his controlled, quiet anger.

  Edmund slowly came around the table, Mary’s wariness growing as he drew closer. “How did she get the mistaken impression that I would be attending her wedding?”

  “You must know why, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

  He stopped beside her. His eyes bore into hers like nails. “You have no business going behind my back and messing with family affairs.”

  She made a helpless motion with her shoulders. “I just thought—”

  He rested a palm on the table and another on her chair, trapping her. “I don’t care what you think. I don’t care if you think I’m cold and unfeeling.”

  “Actually…” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, then started again. “Actually, I think it’s the exact opposite.” He blinked, surprised, and Mary gained courage when she realized that she’d hit a nerve. She stood and boldly stared up at him. “You want to shut her out because you don’t want to admit how much you miss her.”

  He flashed an ugly smile. “No, that’s not it.”

  “Can you honestly tell me that you didn’t like hearing the sound of her voice again? To know that you made her happy?”

  He rested his hands on his hips. “I don’t like being manipulated, Mary. By anyone. Especially someone close to me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head, exasperated. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I just thought you were making a big mistake.”

  “The mistake is yours.” He turned away. “It’s over.”

  For a moment she didn’t breathe. When she finally did, her knees gave way and she fell into a chair. Was this how it would end? She’d prepared herself for this day, but it felt too soon. She wasn’t ready to give him up. The first time she’d asserted herself with him, she’d gone too far and she didn’t know how to fix it.

  “Mary!”