Please Forgive Me

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Please Forgive Me Page 3

by Melissa Hill


  Leonie nodded. ‘Sounds fine.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ OK, so she knew very little about flowers or floral arrangements (other than ordering them), but Marcy certainly didn’t seem to find that a problem. Anyway, working in a place like this looked like it could be fun. Leonie had always loved the fuss surrounding big gift-giving occasions like Valentine’s Day and birthdays, so it would be nice to be in the middle of all that, and to be a part of an industry whose business was primarily making other people feel good. What’s more, it certainly ticked all the boxes in terms of finding something that involved mixing with the locals, didn’t it?

  They spent a few more minutes agreeing all the details and Leonie was struck again by the speed and ease at which she was settling in to her new life in San Francisco. What with the new apartment and now a brand new job, she’d have left her old life behind in no time. And that was the plan, wasn’t it?

  ‘OK then, Leonie,’ her new boss said in conclusion. ‘See you Monday bright and early.’

  Chapter 4

  Alex Fletcher really thought she was going to scream at the pert little blonde standing in front of her.

  ‘Hi, I’m Cyndi Dixon, live at the scene of – ‘

  ‘Cyndi,’ Alex interjected wearily, ‘loosen up a little, will you? We’re not live and this isn’t CNN.’

  ‘Don’t I know it,’ Cyndi grumbled, smoothing down her fringe, before turning to face the TV camera once again. ‘Hi, I’m Cyndi Dixon and Today by the Bay, I’m here at the scene of this morning’s rather um… rather unusual life or death rescue,’ she added, finally injecting the warmth into her voice that Alex wanted.

  Five takes later.

  She nodded encouragingly. Today by the Bay – the two-minute entertainment/news slot Alex produced for San Francisco’s local TV station, SFTV – wasn’t exactly Live at Five but it was her baby, and she wasn’t going to let some jumped-up little Barbie make a mess of it. They all knew that Cyndi was only using this as a springboard to the news studio and good luck to her, but Alex had been running this show for close to two years now, so like or not, Cyndi would have to do things her way.

  OK, so telling her on the first day to lose the sorority-girl bangs and brighten up her wardrobe hadn’t particularly gone down well, but Today by The Bay was mostly a light news piece and nobody warmed to a reporter that looked like she’d just been to a funeral.

  Cyndi continued her commentary. ‘It was right here behind me, that Jake Stephens risked life and most definitely limb,’ she added with a little chuckle, ‘to carry out one of the most incredible water rescue operations the city has ever seen.’

  ‘Cut!’ Frustrated, Alex signalled to Dave the cameraman. ‘A little too dramatic on the ending there maybe?’ she said to the other woman, who rolled her eyes. ‘Let’s just go with ‘the most incredible water rescue operation’ and continue from there, OK?’

  ‘Sure,’ Cyndi harrumphed, before filming began yet again. ‘Yep folks, you can believe your eyes, because the footage you’re seeing on your TV screens right now is of a man rescuing a bear from the fast-moving currents of the Bay. So how did a three hundred pound Californian black bear end up all the way down here in the city, let alone in the water? Well, this didn’t matter to Jake Stephens. Once our hero saw the bear was in trouble he leapt right in and helped get the animal to safety, without any thought for his own.’

  ‘Cut. Great Cyndi,’ Alex enthused, knowing that this and the interview they’d already done with Stephens would most likely be enough.

  Crazy bastard jumping into the water like that. Luckily the bear was too tired and weak from swimming to attack him; instead the animal had used the man as a flotation aid until help arrived. Like Cyndi mentioned, how the bear ended up down here in the bay was anyone’s guess, but that part of the story didn’t concern Alex; it was the drama of the rescue operation that would interest viewers the most (and in particular the accompanying footage that they’d been lucky enough to get from a passing tourist).

  It was the kind of compelling, dramatic and often heart-warming news piece that Today by the Bay specialised in, and if Sylvester Knowles, the senior producer at the station didn’t run this, Alex would eat her hat.

  Sylvester had a very strict brief for Today by The Bay and this was right up his street. When Alex sometimes tried to veer off in other more interesting and newsworthy directions, she was quickly shot down. ‘Come on, all that green stuff is totally snoozeworthy,’ he’d protested, when she’d once pitched a piece about an airline who were using so-called environmental policies to sneak in new charges. The company were almost deliriously happy to be green if it meant extracting something even greener from their long-suffering passengers and had wanted to bring in a fee for toilet flushing under the ‘water conservation’ banner. Alex was sure such a story would interest the public but as always, Sylvester ran a mile.

  As much as she loved her little two-minute news slot, and the variety it afforded her, sometimes she yearned to do a ‘real’ story, not necessarily about politics or current affairs, but something meaty that really got the average American fired up. She guessed she’d inherited this from her dad, who’d been a print journalist back in the day when stories, real stories, mattered.

  ‘We’re done now?’ Cyndi said, in a tone that very much implied a statement rather than a question.

  ‘Sure,’ Alex replied easily. ‘Do you need a lift back to the station? Dave and I are heading that way now.’ Next it was straight into the editing suite to get the story ready for a slot on the evening news, and no doubt Sylvester would want a five second teaser to run before all commercial breaks until then.

  ‘I’ve got to be somewhere else actually,’ the other girl said, making it sound like she was due a meeting with the President.

  ‘OK, well I’ll give you a call if we need you for filming tomorrow. I think a voiceover might be enough though, I’m not sure.’ Tomorrow’s piece would be an interview with a sixty-nine year old guy who was the oldest cable car grip man in the city and shortly due to retire. Because (unlike most members of the public) the man had proven a lively and entertaining interviewee with lots of great anecdotes from his years on the job, they wouldn’t need Cyndi’s pretty face to hold viewer interest or fill screen time.

  ‘Whatever,’ Cyndi was already elsewhere and Alex made a mental note to ask Sylvester why he kept foisting these precious princesses onto her. She knew he’d counter the argument by insisting that she should get in front of the camera herself but Alex wasn’t interested. With her big brown eyes, high cheekbones and looks that people often described as ‘exotic’ (mostly down to her Mediterranean heritage), she suspected she could probably get away with looking the part, but she’d always felt much more comfortable behind a camera than in front of one. And, she mused, fiddling with a strand of long, dark hair, it meant she’d have to lose ten pounds and wear a shed load of makeup every day, which just wasn’t going to happen.

  She made it back to her desk at the SFTV offices just before lunchtime, and upon checking her messages, saw that mixed in with some other work-related stuff was a note to call her lawyer. Alex’s heart automatically sped up.

  It couldn’t be, could it?

  Her hands suddenly clammy, she wiped them on her jeans before picking up the phone to call him back.

  ‘Doug, it’s Alex,’ she said trying to keep her voice even. ‘You called?’

  ‘Not good news I’m afraid,’ Doug said without preamble. ‘Same old story.’

  ‘What?’ Alex wasn’t quite sure how to feel. She’d expected the news to be different this time. ‘You didn’t get him?’

  ‘Well, according to our guy you were right; he was there at one time, but not any more.’

  She honestly didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. She knew what she should feel of course, but when it came to this, Alex was never really on sure footing. ‘So what do we do now?’ she asked Doug. ‘I mean, this needs to ge
t done.’

  ‘Not a lot I can do for you in the short term if we can’t pin this guy down, Alex.’ The lawyer was circumspect. ‘Look, ask around some more and see what you can find out, or maybe think about getting a professional on the case. Otherwise, we’ll need to consider an alternative route but it’s probably too early for that just yet.’

  ‘Too early…but it’s been over a year!’ she exclaimed, although in truth it was more than that since all this really began.

  ‘Yes, but in the eyes of the law…’ Doug began to repeat his usual mantra.

  ‘I know, I know,’ Alex said jadedly. ‘I’ll keep trying, see if I can find out anything new. I’m really sorry about this; I was so sure this time.’

  ‘You do that. And try not to worry, we’ll get this guy nailed down eventually – we always do.’

  ‘I hope so Doug,’ she said, trying to sound like she meant it when the truth was, she wasn’t so sure. ‘And I’m sorry your time got wasted on another wild goose chase.’ Although she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that the lawyer himself was doing the chasing; more likely some lackey the firm employed to do that kind of legwork.

  ‘Not a problem. I’m sorry I didn’t have good news so I could wrap this thing up for you once and for all,’ Doug finished before ringing off.

  The conversation still buzzing in her head, Alex sat back in her chair and sighed deeply.

  ‘Hey, what’s with the long face?’ Sylvester said, catching the tail end of the sigh. ‘I hope that doctor of yours hasn’t let you down, especially not with Valentine’s Day so close.’

  Thinking of Jon, Alex had to smile. ‘No, we’re going out tonight, actually’ she told her boss.

  ‘Good. Shit-hot surgeon or not, that guy’s got me to deal with if he messes you around.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to tell him that,’ she said with a grin.

  She and Jon French, a surgeon from downtown Memorial had been seeing each other for a couple of months, and while things had been going great up to now, they were rapidly approaching a crossroad in the relationship – one that Alex knew she couldn’t delay for much longer. He knew what was going on with her of course, had known from the very beginning and because of this, seemed happy enough to wait. But now, with their relationship coming up to four months and still nothing happening…well she supposed she couldn’t really blame him for getting antsy.

  Would she still be feeling this way if Doug’s phone call had been different? she wondered now. Would it have finally put everything to bed? Grimacing at her own choice of words, she tried to get a handle on her thoughts. There was no point in even going down that road now. If anything she was lucky that Jon had come into her life when he had, and doubly lucky that he was so patient and understanding.

  It was just her pragmatic side that wanted this dealt with, Alex reassured herself, and nothing else should come into it. Her relationship with Jon should move on and with any luck she’d get the closure she needed eventually.

  But for the moment, Alex thought, checking the rest of her messages, it looked like that closure wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  ***

  ‘Wow, you look amazing!’ Jon was full of compliments when Alex arrived at the restaurant that night, and she was pleased with her decision to wear the new one-shoulder Diane Von Furstenberg blue silk dress she’d bought at Macy’s the week before.

  They were having dinner at the Cliff House restaurant, one of her favourites in the city, which as the name implied, was perched on the cliffs high above the Pacific Ocean. From their window table, the lights of Marin coastline glittered prettily in the distance, and below on the water, cruise ships sailed in and out of the bay beneath the Golden Gate. Jon looked pretty good tonight too, she noticed, dressed in a black Ralph Lauren shirt and tan Hugo Boss chinos. His dark hair looked freshly-cut and his deep brown eyes sparkled in the low-level restaurant lighting. Man he was sexy!

  ‘So how was your week?’ he asked, when the waiter had taken their order.

  ‘Good thanks.’ Alex decided not to say anything about Doug’s phone call earlier. Not that it made much of a difference (at least not to Jon) but she really didn’t want to revisit that particular topic of conversation and certainly not tonight. ‘Although unlike you,’ she joked, ‘I didn’t get to save any lives.’

  ‘Hey, a job’s a job,’ he said with a modest smile and again Alex was impressed by his lack of arrogance or vanity. At thirty-six, he was one of Memorial’s youngest but most senior surgeons, yet he always acted like it was no big deal. ‘Course, the major downside is that I don’t get to see you as often as I’d like.’ He reached across the table and laced his fingers through hers. As he did Alex felt an automatic shiver run down her spine.

  ‘You’ve got some more nights coming up then?’ She tried not to sound too disappointed.

  ‘A whole week after Sunday. I’m sorry honey, I’d really hoped we could do something special Thursday but it’s just not working out.’

  Alex was confused. ‘Why Thursday?’

  ‘Well, Valentines Day of course,’ he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and she had to smile. Another thing she loved about Jon was that there was no game-playing and none of the immature bravado and male posturing that often went hand in hand with dating guys now. Instead he was totally upfront and decisive about what he wanted, and to Alex this was deeply attractive. Obviously comfortable with his masculinity, he was also very attentive and quite romantic too (even though Alex was way past all that hearts and flowers stuff) and she was lucky to have found him. So why was she still holding back?

  Well, there would be no more of that, she decided suddenly, drinking in his gorgeous face. No more delays or excuses; if after dinner Jon invited her back to his place on Nob Hill, this time she would go. And realistically, how much longer could she actually wait? There had been a real buzz between them right from the very beginning, so wasn’t it about time she allowed herself give in to that, and just go for it? And moreover, why wait to be asked?

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ she said smiling coyly. ‘Why don’t we celebrate it tonight instead?’

  Jon looked up and met her gaze, instantly catching her meaning. ‘Sounds great to me. Wanna skip dessert?’

  ‘Dessert?’ Alex laughed. ‘We haven’t even had our entrees yet!’

  ‘I guess I’ve just realised that I’m not really all that hungry,’ he replied, with a mischievous smile and Alex shook her head in feigned exasperation.

  Tonight, she and Jon would take their relationship to a whole other level and Alex would finally be able to cast aside the stupid, crazy guilt that resurfaced every time she’d thought about it up to now. And that was a joke, wasn’t it? Why should she feel guilty about trying to move on with the rest of her life?

  Jon picked up her hand and moved it to his mouth, tracing tiny kisses on the delicate skin inside her wrist, a small but effective preview of what was to come. Alex gulped.

  Forget guilt and disloyalty and all the foolish irrational stuff that had been holding her back. Tonight would definitely be the night, and Alex already knew it would be great.

  Chapter 5

  ‘You have a job – already?’ Grace exclaimed. ‘Gosh, you don’t waste any time, do you?’

  ‘It was just luck, I suppose,’ Leonie said, explaining how she’d stumbled across Flower Power. That day, once she’d successfully navigated her way back to Green Street, she realised that Marcy’s shop was only five blocks away from the apartment, and a short ten-minute walk. It couldn’t be handier and again, because everything now seemed to be slotting so easily into place, Leonie wondered if somebody up there might be giving her a helping hand. Today had been her first day on the job and while it had been hectic, she’d really enjoyed getting stuck in.

  ‘But a florist’s?’ Grace continued disbelievingly down the other end of the line. ‘Sure, you know feck all about flowers!’

  ‘Well, I know a little bit from being at Xanadu – but
I’m picking things up as I go along.’

  ‘Wow, you really are gas, Leonie,’ her friend went on, this time with obvious admiration in her tone. ‘Only a few weeks there and already you’re practically one of the natives! Me, I get lost in Dundrum Shopping Centre, never mind trying to find my way around a massive place like San Francisco.’

  ‘It’s easy to find your way around here though. It’s a very compact city; you can pretty much walk to most places –’

  ‘Well it wouldn’t be me ….oh, Rocky, stop – leave your sister alone!’ Grace admonished her errant son, before smoothly continuing with the conversation, ‘but I envy your confidence all the same. Probably from all the travelling you’ve done. Oh, and speaking of which, we’re trying to plan our first family holiday at the moment,’ she added excitedly.

  ‘Really? Where are you thinking of going?’ Leonie was surprised to hear this. Grace generally disliked travel, and at three years old and full of beans, the twins would inevitably be a handful on any flight.

  ‘Ray was talking about Tunisia. Apparently it won’t be too hot over there around Easter but it’ll be warmer than Cyprus, which we were thinking of first. Now, don’t ask me anymore about it because he’s supposed to be making all the arrangements and to be honest, I’m not even sure if it’s one of the Greek Islands or the –’

  ‘It’s Africa,’ Leonie told her smiling. ‘Tunisia is in Africa.’ Given her friend’s wonky sense of geography, it was probably a good thing Grace didn’t travel very much!

  ‘Is it really? Now I didn’t know that,’ she said, sounding worried. ‘Will it be a very long flight so? God almighty, I don’t know why I let Ray organise these things; he just asked the travel agent for winter sun and that’s what we got. Sure he wouldn’t have a clue either, and knowing him he probably thinks it’s in Spain.’

  Leonie smiled, trying to imagine that conversation in the travel agency. ‘Oh, Rosie, will you give it a rest please!’ Grace moaned and Leonie deduced that the twins were kicking up a right rumpus in the background.

 

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