Twenty minutes later, while I was up in John's apartment regaling him with the tales of my disastrous day, she called.
"Tyler's agent says your building is not currently listed for sale but the one three down is nearly identical and recently sold for ten million dollars."
I thanked her and ended the call. John raised his eyebrows, and I passed along the price tag.
He shook his head. "Fifty million bucks doesn't go as far as it used to, does it? You're practically destitute."
"I'll be begging on a street corner soon."
He laughed. "I can see you now, clutching a cardboard sign that says, 'Help me, I've only got millions to my name.' People will drive by throwing loonies and toonies at you. And bills too, but the coins will throw easier."
"Yeah," I said, giggling, "but they'll be trying to embed them in my skull. I'd prefer bills."
"Money's money," he said. "And even if you buy the building, you'll still have more than I'll ever see."
I sat for a second, not sure how to reply. The bitterness in his voice hurt, but the deep sadness and frustration that I heard too made me think it wasn't directed at me.
He cleared his throat. "Sorry. I am happy for you. I really am. It's just... me and money don't always get along. Or ever, I guess."
Again I wanted to give him some of mine, and again he must have realized because he said, "Anyhow. Care to cheer yourself up by losing to me at Halo?"
I laughed and agreed, and enjoyed several blissful hours of fierce fighting against one of the few people who still seemed to see me as Angela instead of a piggy bank to raid at will.
Chapter Eleven
Kerr stared at me. "But why?"
"You haven't heard?" I said, trying to lighten the mood. "I won the lottery last week."
"You know I know that. I didn't think it would change a thing, though. I thought you were coming in today to chat, or maybe to tell me you'd be taking a little time off. It never crossed my mind you'd quit. I thought you loved working for me."
How to answer that? "I can't imagine a better boss than you."
His eyes, the exact color of the dark chocolate he loved which somehow never added an ounce to his tall elegant frame, narrowed. "Me either, but that's not the same thing. Have you not enjoyed writing for me? Wine Lovers would be nothing without you."
My throat tightened. My boss, my soon-to-be-ex-boss, wasn't the type to throw praise around. I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard more than a curt, "Not bad," from him. "I have enjoyed it," I said softly. "It's just that..."
When I didn't finish, because I didn't know how, he seized his advantage. "You don't really want to quit, do you? Doesn't look like it to me. What would you do all day?"
I would somehow find a way to get myself the life I had always intended to live. I had no idea how, since I hadn't seen the man I'd thought I would marry for nine years and I could no longer have the baby I'd always thought I'd have, but I had to find some way forward. My life was stuck in neutral, and had been since I left Shane. In the grand journey of life, I was sitting at a dingy terminal watching everyone else's ships sail away while mine was permanently docked, and that had to change. Somehow.
I couldn't say any of that to my elegant bachelor-by-choice boss, so I shrugged and made myself smile. "I've never been able to just do whatever I want," I said, echoing what one of the reporters had said when I'd picked up my check. "If not now, then when?"
He grimaced, then sighed. "I suppose that makes sense. Can't say I like it, though. You've been here from the start. Won't be the same without you."
Not quite from the start, but close. The magazine had already sent out its first issue when I became Kerr's first hire, but I certainly had helped to shape the publication over the years. "I'll subscribe now," I said, smiling at him. "So you'll have another paying customer. That counts for something, right?"
"Sure, if I would even for a moment consider letting you pay." He turned the laptop on his desk to face his visitor chairs where we both sat then pressed a few keys and angled the computer toward me. "Add yourself to the mailing list, please. You're a lifetime subscriber now."
I typed in my name and the address of the post office box I'd rented. I couldn't imagine Kerr would misuse my address but he often brought in interns from the nearby college to do mailings and I'd be better off if none of them could reach me at home. Once I'd finished, I said, "Well, that's sweet of you."
He shook his head. "You deserve way more. And you know I'll always take you back, right? Any time you want. If you get bored of the millionaire lifestyle, I'll be here."
I made myself smile, though his sincerity was choking me up. "I'm going to work my way through your list of the fifty wines worth saving up to buy. That'll keep me busy."
He took a breath, and I saw in his eyes that he was considering pushing me harder, but instead he said, "Tell me how they are. I hope you like them."
"Me too."
We sat looking at each other a moment, and I remembered how when we'd first started working together I'd thought maybe he would be the man who'd replace Shane. Kerr had quickly and subtly made it clear that he didn't want a relationship that lasted longer than a glass of wine, though, so I hadn't made any moves in that direction, but as I studied him I realized for the first time that my boss was one of my best friends. How had I not noticed that before? He'd been a symbol of the life I didn't want to have. Was that why?
"Well," he said, "what now?"
I cleared my throat. "I guess I'll go, and let you get back to work."
He nodded, his eyes not leaving my face. "I guess so. Keep in touch, though. Okay?"
"You got it."
He rose to his feet and held out his hand. I stood too and we shook hands, then he pulled me into an awkward hug, the first one we'd ever shared.
I squeezed him tight, and he did the same then slapped me on the back and said, "Enough, Ms. Hollingsford. I can't cry at the office."
My laughter at this pushed away my own lurking tears, which might well have been his intent. "True, Mr. Campbell. It's embarrassing how often you do it."
He laughed too, and let me go. "I won't embarrass you any more. Ready to go say goodbye to everyone?"
Not really, but I wouldn't feel right leaving without it so I agreed. We went out into the main work area, which was painted the same dull pale green it had been when he first took possession of the office. Kerr believed in putting his money into staff and trips to visit wineries and the best-quality paper for the magazine, not into decor, and his success proved his priorities were correct.
Kerr rested his hand on my shoulder. "Listen up," he said to the four permanent staff members, then waited until everyone was looking at him before he continued. "It is my sad duty to report that Angela is leaving us."
"No surprise," Lena the receptionist said. "After such a big win? I'd quit too." She laughed. "Oh, and I always wanted to ask a winner about this: are you going to keep playing? Can't imagine you would. No chance lightning will strike twice."
Since I had bought a ticket for Friday night's draw on the way over, I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't need the money, of course, but I had always enjoyed the little burst of 'maybe I'll win this week' excitement and hope and I still wanted that in my life.
"I think I need a new rule. No lottery playing at all." Kerr gave my shoulder a squeeze. "I can't lose any more good people."
I smiled, and Lena left her desk and came over clutching a handful of envelopes, saying as she did, "What are you going to do with all that money, Angela? It's almost obscene, isn't it, one person being that wealthy?"
Not sure how to respond to the second part, I ignored it. "I'm doing basically nothing for the first six months," I said, starting to feel like a broken record since I'd told that to so many people. "My advisor says it's a good idea to take time to think."
"I would guess so," Lena said, as if I'd been arguing with her. "Well, don't forget your friends when you decide to spend it."
&
nbsp; She gave me a brilliant smile, and I did smile back but my heart wasn't in it. I had no intention of forgetting my friends, but I also wouldn't forget who had barely tolerated me for the four years she'd been at the magazine. Lena and I were acquaintances at best, never friends.
"So, what about Saturday?"
I turned to Claudia, who was most definitely a friend. "What about it?"
"We were going to meet at the Setherwood at one for lunch. Is that beneath you now?"
She was joking, but at the same time I sensed a serious concern in her voice. "Beneath me? The best sandwiches and lattes in Toronto? Hardly. I'll just wear a hat and sunglasses so nobody notices me."
She smiled, relief in her eyes, and I said to Terrence, "You coming too?"
He laughed. "I wouldn't get a word in edgewise. Claudia can tell me everything when she comes home."
"Good. Then we can talk about you."
He smiled, and Lena said, "Oh, Angela, I wanted to call you earlier because we have a few letters for you." She held out the envelopes she'd brought over. "But I tried both your home and cell numbers and they're out of service with no forwarding."
She took a breath to keep going and Kerr said, "I've just clicked. You changed your numbers in case the crazies call you for money, right?"
"No, because they already were."
Expressions of surprise and horror burst from everyone in the room, and I explained how my contact information had somehow been leaked to the world and how awful it had been, and also how the cops had advised me to change my appearance in public, finishing with, "I canceled my landline and changed the cell and I hope that's enough to keep them away from me."
"Well," Lena said, "that's definitely a mess. But sharing the cell number with just us is okay. We won't misuse it. So? What is it?"
I hesitated, trying to think of a way out. I truly didn't want to give it to her. I had given it to Claudia and Terrence, and Kerr, along with a request not to give it to anyone else even if they were sure I'd want it passed along, but I didn't like the idea of her having it. Finally, I forced a little laugh. "I can't even remember it, really. Since it's just been changed. But you've got my new email so you can use that if you need to get a hold of me." I glanced at my watch. "Oh, I have to head out. I'm meeting with my advisor." I wasn't, but I felt sure Tiff wouldn't mind me saying I was.
Lena started to say something else but Kerr jumped in. "I'll walk you out, Angela. Come on, let's go before my tea alarm goes off."
The laughter of the others cut Lena off, since Kerr's obsession with Earl Gray tea and two squares of dark chocolate at precisely three-thirty every day was a legendary source of amusement for the office, and I left with him while they still giggled, relieved that he'd helped me keep my number to myself.
Chapter Twelve
Claudia came rushing into the cafe, snapping her gaze around its foyer. When she saw me, tucked away in a corner, relief flooded her face. "Angela!"
The muscular man standing beside and a little in front of me said to me, "Do you know this one?"
I nodded, still trembling. "This one, I know."
Claudia shook her head. "I saw that, as I was coming up the street. That crowd around you. God, I'm so sorry I'm late."
As she was always a few minutes late I hadn't been surprised by that, but I had been surprised, and horrified, by the swarm of money-grubbing locusts who'd descended on me from all sides the instant I reached the cafe. Even the sunglasses and hat I'd been wearing had apparently done nothing to protect my identity.
I'd scrambled to find the cards with my post office box address in my purse and held them out, saying over and over, "I can't take requests like this, but you can send them to me at this address." But though many had taken a card they hadn't stopped asking, and they'd had me surrounded so I couldn't escape.
My savior, a long-time Setherwood employee whose name I'd never learned, had burst out of the restaurant to disperse the crowd and had then ushered me inside. I'd been certain at least some of the people would follow, but his scowl and intimidating size had made them back off, although I didn't doubt that at least a few of them still lingered to await my departure.
Claudia rushed forward to hug me. "I'm so sorry," she said again, and I could hear tears in her voice. She'd been far from the 'crying in public' type when we met five years ago, but with all she'd been going through lately she'd been having much more trouble keeping her emotions under control.
I hugged her back. "It's okay. I'm fine." I released her and looked past her at the man. "Thanks to you. I'm sorry, I don't know your name."
"I'm Gerald," he said gruffly, "and I'm just glad you're okay."
I'd been considering giving him money to thank him, but something in his tone told me that would not be welcomed. So instead I said, "Is your manager here? You deserve to be recognized for what you did."
He said only, "First, can I have the hostess find you a private table?" but once we'd agreed and were seated in the back where I could face into a corner an older lady approached and said, "I'm Sherry, the manager on duty. You were asking for me?"
"I was," I said, and quickly filled her in on Gerald's good deed. I wasn't comfortable telling her she was talking to a multi-millionaire, since any more requests for money would make me want to give the whole fifty million to a home for wayward polar bears or something, but I told her that people had been harassing me and Gerald had taken the time to help me out.
She smiled. "He's a good guy." Something flickered over her face and her eyes narrowed. "Did I... were you in the newspaper?" She leaned closer and breathed, "Did you win all that money?"
Wondering if the polar bears were about to receive a windfall, I said, "Yes. That's what those people were harassing me about. Gerald put a stop to it and I'm grateful. Just thought you should know."
I could see her mind working. I had no doubt there was something she'd like me to fund for her, but I saw her reluctantly decide not to ask. Better luck next time, bears. "Well, thanks for telling me. I'll let the owner know."
I smiled, and she left, and Claudia shook her head. "How are you dealing with all of this? Every last person you see has their hands out."
I looked pointedly at her hands, resting on the table. "Not everyone." I sighed. "But it is really bizarre. I mean, what would I have given Gerald, if he'd seemed like he'd wanted it? A thousand? That's a pittance compared to what I have, so isn't it insulting? But it's still a lot of money."
Her forehead creased. "I hadn't even considered that. Yeah, I suppose. It's not like you'd give him a million for that, but I guess to some people a grand could seem offensive. But it shouldn't." She looked past me. "Waitress on the way. Want a rum and coke?"
I snorted. "What do you think?"
She laughed, and ordered drinks for us both while I dug through my purse so I wouldn't be looking up at the waitress. I'd been recognized more than enough for one day.
Once the waitress left, Claudia said, "So, what now? How do you hide yourself?"
I shrugged, and tugged at a strand of my hair. "I've been growing it out forever but it won't cooperate. I could cut it short again but I hated it so much."
She nodded. She was too good a friend to admit it, but we both knew I'd looked like a particularly ugly man with short hair. Her eyes brightened. "What about extensions? Color it and add extensions?"
I took a breath to give the knee-jerk 'it would cost a fortune' response, then stopped myself. "Actually, that's a good idea. What color?"
She smiled. "They say blondes have more fun."
"True, but I've always liked red."
"Could work, since you get red highlights in the sun."
"I'll look into it."
She nodded again, then said, "How was yoga this morning?"
"Beats me. Didn't go."
She frowned. "I don't think you've ever missed a class before. Have you?"
"Nope. But I was halfway out the door and got a 'what if everyone asks me for money?' feeling and I
bailed." I sighed. "Which turned out to be a good thing."
She raised her eyebrows.
"I emailed my teacher. She said everyone in class was talking about me, and most of them were disappointed I wasn't there because they had proposals for me." I sighed again. "I get why people want money, but don't they get how awkward it is for me?"
She gave me a sad smile. "I guess not."
We sat in silence for a long moment, while I tried to figure out how to make the proposal I knew for sure I wanted to make. Finally I just came out with, "The fertility treatments... you'll do in-vitro next?"
She sighed. "Yes, since nothing else has worked."
"When?"
"Whenever we can afford it. Probably a year or two."
Claudia was nearly a year older than me. She might not have a year or two. "What does it cost, about fifteen grand?"
"Ten to fourteen, probably," she said, then she stiffened. "No. No way. Don't."
I didn't insult her by pretending I hadn't been going where we both knew I'd been going. "Why not? Do you know what I make in interest a month? Lena was right, it is obscene. Why shouldn't I share it with you? Let you get something we've both wanted so much?"
She'd been shaking her head the whole time I talked, and the instant I finished she said, "I can't. I won't. It's just not right."
"Again, why not? I think you and Terrence would make great parents. If I can make it happen for you, what's the harm?"
She hung her head and stared into her glass. Without looking up, she said, "The harm would be if you started seeing me like all those people who were harassing you outside. I'd hate that."
"I'd never see you that way. Do you honestly think I would?"
She raised her eyes to meet mine, and the pain and confusion and yearning in them made me wish she hadn't. "I don't know. I just know I'd hate it, and that's why I said I--"
Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13) Page 82