Never Leave Me (1953)

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Never Leave Me (1953) Page 7

by Robbins, Harold


  I thought about Elaine back at the hotel waiting for me. I remembered how she had been at breakfast that morning. I had been nervous. My stomach had been jumping.

  “Easy, boy, easy,” she had said with a quick understanding. “Uncle Matt isn’t an ogre. He won’t eat you. He just wants to talk over a deal.”

  In spite of myself I had smiled. Maybe it was just a deal to Matt Brady, but it was the big deal to me.

  I took another sip of my drink and ran into water. Silently I gestured to the bartender for a refill. I sure kicked that one out the window. I looked down at my watch. Two o’clock. I hated to go back to the hotel and tell her what had happened.

  I was on my second double when I looked up at the mirror over the bar. I thought a dame had smiled at me. I was right. The girl in the mirror smiled again.

  I spun around on my chair and smiled back at her. She gestured and I picked up my drink and walked towards her table. It was Matt Brady’s secretary. I felt a little tight. My mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “How come the old man let you out for lunch?” I asked. “The Department of Labour get after him?”

  She ignored my crack. “Mr. Brady always leaves the office at one-thirty,” she said. “He doesn’t come back.”

  I knew an invitation when I heard one. I dropped into the chair beside her. “Good,” I said. “I hate drinking alone.”

  She smiled. “He called your hotel and left a message for you before he went home.”

  “Tell him to keep it,” I said belligerently. “I want no part of him.”

  She help up her hands as if to ward of a blow. “Don’t be mad at me, Mr. Rowan,” she said. “I only work there.”

  She was right. I was being a fool. “I’m sorry, Miss—uh—Miss——”

  “Wallace,” she answered. “Sandra Wallace.”

  “Miss Wallace,” I said formally. “Let me get you a drink.” I signalled the waiter and looked at her inquiringly.

  “Very dry martini,” she said. The waiter went away and she looked at me. “Mr. Brady likes you,” she said.

  “Good,” I answered. “I don’t like him.”

  “He wants you to work for him. He was sure that you would. He even had the legal department draw up a contract for you.”

  “Does he have an employment contract with his spies too?” I asked.

  The waiter put her drink down and went away. I picked up my drink and waved it at her. “The only job I’d take from him right now is watching you,” I said.

  She laughed. “You’re crazy.”

  “Crazy as hell,” I said. “For that he wouldn’t even have to pay me.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Rowan,” she said, raising her glass to her lips.

  “Brad’s the name; whenever somebody calls me Mister, I always turn around. I think it’s my father they’re talking to.”

  “Okay, Brad,” she smiled. “But sooner or later you’ll get used to it and do what he wants.”

  “You heard me when I went out of the office,” I told her. “I’m not taking his job.”

  A strange look came over her face. It was almost as if she had heard this many times before. “He’ll get you, Brad,” she said quietly. “You don’t know him. Matt Brady always gets what he wants.”

  A flash of understanding suddenly penetrated my fuzzy head. “You don’t like him?” I asked.

  She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “I hate him.”

  My head was clearing quickly. “Then why stay? You don’t have to work for him. There are other jobs.”

  “From the time I was eleven years old and my father was killed in the foundry I knew I was going to be his secretary.”

  I was interested. “How come?”

  “My mother went to his office and dragged me with her. I was big for my age, and Matt Brady didn’t miss a trick. I remember his walking around that desk and taking my hand. I even remember how cold his fingers were when he spoke to my mother.

  “‘Don’t worry, Mrs. Wolenciwicz,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you enough money to live on, and when Alexandra grows up she can come and work for me here. Maybe even be my secretary.’

  “He never forgot what he said. Every now and then he would call my mother to check and find out if I was taking the right courses and how I was doing in school.” She picked up her martini and stared into it. “If I left him now, he’d never let me get another job.”

  “Even if you left town?” I asked.

  Her smile was bitter. “I tried that once. He very quietly loused me up, and then generously gave me my job back.”

  I took a sip of my drink. It tasted crummy in my mouth. I put it back on the table. I was through drinking for the afternoon. I took a deep breath. “He keeping you?” I asked bluntly.

  She shook her head. “No,” she answered. “A lot of people around the place think so, but he never so much as said a word to me that didn’t have to do with business.” Her eyes were full on my face. There was a puzzled look in them as if she were asking me to explain it to her. “I don’t get it,” she added.

  I stared at her for a full minute before I spoke. “Does he have you watched too?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Sometimes I think he does, sometimes I think not. He doesn’t trust anybody.”

  I had the feeling I could trust this dame. “Did you see the report he had on me?”

  She shook her head. “It comes from personnel investigation office. It’s given to him personally in a sealed envelope.”

  “Is there any way I can get a copy?” I asked.

  “There’s only one copy made and it’s in his desk.”

  “Can you get me a look at it?” I persisted. “I have to see it. He may have something in there that may mean big trouble for me.”

  “It won’t do any good, Brad,” she said. “If there is anything, he would never forget it.”

  “But I would have a chance if I knew what he knew,” I said quickly.

  She didn’t speak. I could see she was a little frightened over having told me as much as she did. After all, she didn’t know me from Adam. For all she knew, I could be one of Matt Brady’s spies.

  “A favour for a favour,” I said quickly. “You help me, I help you. Get me a look at that report and I’ll get you away from Matt Brady—so that he’ll never find you.”

  She took a deep breath and suddenly I was conscious of what had caught my eye back in her office. She had a terrific pair of lungs and for a moment I thought she was going to bust out of her dress. She saw me goggling at her and a peculiar smile came to her lips.

  “I’m not hiding it there,” she said pointedly.

  “I wish you were,” I said, dragging my eyes back to her face. “But I got no luck. That would make business a pleasure.”

  A faint flush crept into her cheeks. “What makes you think it can’t be?” she asked huskily.

  Chapter Twelve

  WE walked in through the big steel gate and I turned towards the building entrance. Her hand touched my arm. “This way,” she said.

  I followed her around the corner of the building. There, hidden in an arch of privet hedges, was a door. She took a key from her bag and opened it. “Matt Brady’s private entrance,” she explained.

  We were in a small corridor. A few feet from the door was an elevator. She pressed the button and its doors opened. We stepped inside and she turned to me smiling. “Matt Brady’s private elevator,” she said. I felt the elevator begin to climb. She was still smiling at me.

  There was no refusing that invitation. I pulled her towards me. Her eyes were wide open as her arms went up around my neck and her lips opened under mine. I was right the first time. This kid was built for distance. She was still hanging on, even after the doors had opened.

  At last she came up for air. Her eyes were shining. “I like you,” she said.

  I managed a grin. I had to play it safe.

  “You’re my kind of guy,” she said. “I knew it from the minute you made him come and get you out
of the washroom.”

  I didn’t say a word.

  “Damn!” she said, her eyes still on mine.

  That surprised me. “Why?” I asked.

  Instead of explaining, she turned and started from the elevator. I followed her into Matt Brady’s private office. She walked around his desk and took a key from her purse. She hesitated a moment, then opened the desk and took out the report. “I’m a fool,” she said, the paper still in her hand. “You can turn copper on me.”

  I didn’t answer, just stood there watching her. A moment passed; then without looking at it, she handed the paper to me. For the second time in a few seconds she had surprised me. “Aren’t you even going to look at it?” I asked.

  She walked around me to her door and opened it. She stood there in the open doorway, looking back at me. “No,” she said. “I know you’re married, and it isn’t that I mean. But if another girl’s got you, I don’t want to know her name.”

  The door closed behind her and I walked over to the window to get the light. I tipped my hat figuratively to Matt Brady. He may not have had much time in which to work, but there was very little that he had missed. My whole life was down there in those few sheets of paper. I scanned the sheets searching for her name.

  I had nothing to worry about. The report merely stated that I had been accompanied by a woman who spent the night in my suite and that pursuant to instructions they would discontinue further observation. I dropped the papers on his desk and lit a cigarette.

  I just had time enough for one drag when the door opened. “Well?” she asked.

  “I read it,” I answered, pointing to the sheets.

  “Everything all right?” She came into the room, closing the door behind her.

  “Yeah,” I answered, beginning to feel a little foolish. I moved towards her. “I don’t know how to thank you,” I added awkwardly.

  She didn’t answer.

  I moved towards the elevator. “I guess I’d better be going.”

  “You can’t go right now,” she said. “You’ll be noticed. They’ll see the elevator signal on the control panel in the lobby and they’ll come to check.”

  I stopped. “How do I get out of here then?”

  A curious smile crossed her lips. “You have to wait for me. I leave about five-fifteen, when the rush is over.”

  I checked my watch. It was almost four o’clock. The smile was still on her lips as she watched me. “Sit down and wait,” she said. “I’ll get you a drink.”

  I crossed the room to the large sectional and sank onto it. “I can use one,” I said.

  I watched her move about the office as she put the drink together. The ice cubes made a comforting clinking sound as she brought the glass over to me. I sipped it gratefully.

  She slipped into a chair opposite me. “What are you going to do now, Brad?” she asked.

  I took another pull at my drink. “Go back to New York and forget all about this,” I answered.

  “It won’t be as easy as that,” she said. “Matt Brady wants you.”

  I smiled at her.

  “Don’t smile,” she said seriously. “When you get back to the hotel, you’ll find a message there, asking you to dinner at his house this evening.”

  “I won’t go,” I said.

  “You’ll go,” she answered. “By the time you get back to your hotel, you’ll have thought it over. You’ll remember all the money he was talking about, you’ll think about everything you can do with it and everything it can do for you.” She sipped her drink. “You’ll go.”

  “You know all the answers,” I said, watching her.

  Her eyes fell from mine. “I don’t,” she replied. “But I’ve seen this happen before. He’ll get you. Money means nothing to him. He’ll pile it in front of you until your head spins. He’ll talk soft and tell you how great you are and how important you’ll be. And all the time you’ll be watching the pile of chips on the table grow until your eyes pop. Then tag—you’ve had it.”

  I put my drink on the coffee table in front of me. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “What’s in it for you?”

  She put her drink on the table next to mine. “I’ve seen many big and important people crawl to Matt Brady. It made me sick to see such fear.” Her voice trailed away and her eyes watched my face.

  “So?” I asked softly.

  “You’re big and strong and cocky. And there was no smell of fear around you. You weren’t so frightened that you couldn’t see me, that you thought I was a piece of furniture. I saw the way you looked at me.”

  “How’d I look at you?” I asked.

  She got to her feet and stood very straight before me. Then, slowly, she walked around the coffee table, towards me. I looked up at her, my eyes following every motion of her. She stopped in front of me and looked down. “Like you’re looking at me now,” she said.

  I was silent. I made no move towards her.

  That strangely curious smile came back to her lips. “I know you’re not for me,” she said. “I know another woman’s got you. And you know it too. I knew it when you kissed me. But that makes no difference.

  “To you I’m not Matt Brady’s secretary, not a fixture in his office. I’m a human being, a separate identity, a woman. That’s the way you look at me.”

  I didn’t say a word. The only thing of value on this earth was that each of us was an individual and not a cog in a machine. No man was better than another because of circumstance or fortune, but each important to his own.

  I reached for my drink, but her hand caught mine and stopped it. I looked up at her, our eyes met and locked.

  A pulse in my temple began to bang. I don’t know what made me stop. The price was right. She had everything a guy could want in a dame—except one thing. Love was missing. I was not for her.

  Reluctantly I pushed her away. I didn’t want to hurt her. I didn’t know what to say.

  She stared into my face. “There is another woman, isn’t there?”

  I nodded.

  She took a deep breath and got to her feet. I looked up at her. There was a tremulous smile on her lips as she spoke. “That’s another thing I can like about you. You’re honest. You don’t cheat for cheating’s sake alone.”

  She went back into her office, and in a few minutes I could hear the faint clacking of her typewriter. The minutes dragged away slowly. I walked over to the window and looked out at the foundries. Matt Brady had a right to be proud. If circumstances were different I could even learn to like the guy. But they weren’t. Maybe it was because what he said was true. We were too much alike.

  Somewhere in the corridor outside the office a chime rang. Its mellow tone was still hanging in the air when she came back into the office. I turned to face her.

  “It’s okay now. We can leave in a few minutes,” she said.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I PICKED up a taxi in front of the gate and was back at the hotel at a quarter to six. Strange thing, the male ego, and I suppose I have enough of it to do justice to six people. I felt good. Show me another guy who could turn down sixty grand and a luscious babe all in the same day.

  I was proud of myself and I couldn’t wait to tell Elaine what a great man I was. I flung open the door of the suite and called out. “Elaine!”

  There was no answer.

  I closed the door behind me and saw a note propped up on the foyer table. My elation vanished like water down the drain and my heart sank in sudden apprehension. She couldn’t have gone and left me. She couldn’t!

  I picked it up and relief ran through me like a breath of cool wind in a heat spell.

  4.30 p.m.

  “DARLING,

  A woman can stand only so much. Then she goes to the beauty parlour. Should be back by six-thirty.

  Love you,

  ELAINE.”

  I dropped the note on the table and crossed the room to the telephone. I picked it up and put in a call to the office.

  Chris’s voice was excited.
“How’d you make out, Brad?”

  “Not so good,” I answered. “Brady wanted me to dump the whole deal and come to work for him.”

  “What did he offer?”

  “Sixty grand a year,” I said. I could hear Chris whistle even without the phone. “He likes me,” I added caustically.

  A note of satisfaction came into Chris’s voice. “When do you start?” he asked.

  “I don’t,” I said flatly. “I turned him down.”

  “You’re crazy!” he said incredulously. “Nobody in his right mind turns down that kind of money.”

  “Better reserve a room for me at the Cornell Clinic, then,” I said, “because that’s what I did.”

  “But, Brad!” he protested. “It’s the kind of setup you’ve been looking for. You can take the job and keep your interest here on the quiet. I can handle this end for you and there’d be a nice melon for us to cut up each year.”

  There was a note in his voice I had never heard before. An echo of ambition, a cold desire to be top dog. I didn’t like the way we suddenly had become partners. “I said I didn’t want the job, Chris,” I said coldly. “And I’m still boss. The only thing I’m looking for is the industry account.”

  “If you cross Matt Brady,” he said, the ambition dying painfully in his voice, “you can forget the account.”

  “That’s my headache,” I said flatly.

  “Okay, Brad, if that’s the way you want it,” he said.

  “That’s the way I want it,” I answered.

  There was an awkward pause for a moment, then came the question. “Coming back to-night?”

  The answer sprang quickly to my lips. “No. To-morrow. I have another meeting with Brady to-night.”

  “Shall I call Marge and tell her?” he asked formally.

  “I’ll call her,” I said. “See you to-morrow.”

  “Keep punching,” he said as we hung up, but there was no enthusiasm in his voice.

 

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