Key to Love

by Judy Ann Davis

  “Here, I’ll take it.” Chuck smiled and held the bottle up, examining it with a wicked sparkle in his eye. “Maybe a little additive, like a sedative, wouldn’t hurt?”

  “Arsenic is hardly a sedative.” She pushed him toward the door. Seconds later, he was back with Paul Winston trailing behind him, his head lowered like a scolded pup. He took a seat at the table, uncapped the bottle of water, and chugged it.

  “I told him he could join us if he promised not to utter a word until you and I have hashed this out.”

  Elise shrugged. “I guess you have the ball in your court, Chuck.”

  “I wish! Levinson has made it clear Winston and Sanders are out of the picture if you’re not there to manage the project. Our ace in the hole is that the firm owns the designs.” While he talked, Elise went to the refrigerator and pulled out a Coke. She popped the top and turned back to him. “So we have a stalemate, unless, of course, I go in-house with Levinson.”

  “You wouldn’t! And can’t.” Paul Winston sputtered, jumping up and sloshing water over the front of his silk shirt.

  “Oh, just shut up, Paul, and sit down,” Chuck warned sharply. He glanced at Elise. “A legal battle? No way would Levinson wait.”

  “Oh, he’ll wait. In fact, I suspect he’ll be more than agreeable to wait.” She was amazed how calm and collected she sounded, even though she had no idea whether Levinson really would. “And my contractual obligations notwithstanding, the firm loses the deal regardless.”

  Chuck shook his head and looked at Paul. “It would seem she is holding us hostage, but it’s Levinson, not Elise, whose name is at the bottom of the ransom note.”

  “It’s a bluff,” Paul interjected.

  “What are you, deaf?” Chuck gave him a look of disgust. “I told you to be quiet. You forget I own half of the firm as well. You haven’t exactly endeared the man to us. He likes—no, he adores Elise. Now tell me, who do you think is in the driver’s seat on this potential contract?” He focused his attention back to her and said softly, “Please, Elise, come back to work for us.”

  Setting her drink on the counter, she crossed her arms and leaned her frame against the countertop. “What’s in it for me?”

  “Money, lots of money, kiddo.”

  She shook her head.

  “A healthy raise. No, a huge raise.”

  “Uh-uh, not good enough.”

  “Elise,” he pleaded. “We need you. No one can handle clients like you can. Neither one of us have your touch. Half of them are already disgruntled and it’s only been a little more than a week. The files look like an ad for a recycling project. Contractors and suppliers don’t want to talk to anyone but you.”

  She pursed her lips and stared at him with an unreadable expression before she spoke. “I’ll pass.” She never imagined it would feel so good to say it.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. A partnership?”

  “Associate or full?”

  He sighed like he knew he was defeated. “Full.”

  “Now just a second here!” Paul Winston’s jaw dropped and his face blanched white.

  “Oh, shut up, Paul,” they said in unison, looking up at each other, exchanging a smile.

  Chuck Sanders shook his head sadly. “Sometimes, Paul, just when I think I’m cracking through your thick skull and rewiring your sense of logic, a stray brain cell misfires and poof! You short-circuit. We can’t do this alone. Do you get it?”

  Elise watched the play of angry emotions on Paul Winston’s face.

  “I’ll tell you what,” she offered and raised both hands in a signal of truce. “Give me a day to think on it, all right? It will give you time to discuss your offer with Paul, since it’s obvious he has some reservations. I have some other irons in the fire I need to sort through.” The first one is in the room next door.

  “Okay, that’s a step.” Chuck Sanders punched the air, grabbed her in another bone-crunching embrace, and thumped her on the back. “That’s my girl! Just what I wanted to hear. How about I phone you and we can discuss the particulars later? No, take a few days, and I’ll call you from the West Coast.”

  Elise pulled away, nodded, and smiled at his beaming face.

  She met Paul Winston’s somber gaze. “Make sure, Paul, whatever you and Chuck decide to offer, you’re both in complete agreement.”

  “I understand,” he said stiffly. He held out his hand. When she took it, a look of surprise and relief spread over his usually unreadable, somber face. “I know this sounds shallow and trite, but I’ve missed you, too, Elise.”

  ****

  Pacing the living room, Lucas Fisher shoved his hands through his hair. Where in hell was Elise? Her car had been sitting in the drive for over a half hour now. How long could it possibly take to toss the three stooges from San Francisco out the front door?

  In a nearby chair, a furious Monique sat with her legs crossed, her blinding blue skirt hiked up to her silky thighs. He had never realized how beautiful Elise’s legs were until he was able to compare them with someone else’s. The thought was unexpected and jolting.

  “Lucas,” he heard Monique say, “I love you. Can’t you understand?” She waved her hands in a frantic gesture and the diamond bracelet on her left wrist flashed in brilliant colors in the sunlight pouring into the front window.

  He scrubbed his hands over his face. “What I can’t understand is why you would think there’s any future left for us. It’s over, Monique. How many times do I have to say it?”

  He stared at her. A million, he thought to himself. I can tell her a million times, and still she wouldn’t believe me. He searched the thoughts swirling through his head. He had been blind and shallow. How could he ever have thought he could have a lasting relationship with someone who was like a small spoiled child, intent upon getting her own way? Someone who only wanted to run with the powerful, the famous, the rich?

  “Lucas, darling, you can’t be serious.”

  Her ice cold eyes flashed hot with envy as Elise sauntered into the room. Lucas’s heart hammered in his chest. Even in a pair of cut-off jeans she was exquisite. She wore little make-up, and her hair was pulled into some sort of funny knot at the back of her head and was now coming undone, tendrils fanning out around her face. She was more vibrant and exquisite than he had ever imagined, even when compared to Monique, a beautiful woman in her own right.

  With a self-assured politeness and grace, she went directly to Monique. “Elise Springer. Welcome, I’ve heard so much about you.” She held out her hand.

  Monique eyed her warily, her mouth twisting into a sneer. She refused the offered greeting as well as the outstretched hand. “So you are what? Lucas’s latest little diversion?” she asked.

  “Oh, heavens no, I should hope not.” Undaunted, Elise took a seat opposite her. “Lucas and I are old friends. We go way back, in fact, clear back to childhood when we played on the same neighborhood baseball team. Lucas was the only one I know who loved barbecued potato chips and cherry cream soda. I used to down half the can when he was up to bat and wasn’t looking. Lucky for me, I never got caught.”

  Her eyes met Lucas’s, and he felt his groin tighten. Oh, yes, he had always known whose lips had been on his can of soda. Spring and fall, he had lain in bed, freshly showered, listening to the frogs and crickets, and dreamed of those very same lips kissing him instead.

  “And your point?” Monique had a haughty look.

  “No point. I’m just wondering how well you know Lucas.”

  “Enough to know I’m in love with him. I know everything about him. Much more than a silly hillbilly could ever know.”

  Lucas shook his head. “No, Monique, you know nothing about me. If you did, you’d realize our relationship was over a long, long time ago.”

  “That’s not true,” Monique wailed, jumping up. “You love me. You know you do. You even sent me flowers. Tell her, Lucas!”

  “Flowers? What flowers?” He stared at her, frowning. Ever since he’d known her, she always
had a bag of manipulative tricks. “You must be mistaken. I never sent you any flowers.”

  Monique sniffed and dug into her beaded purse “Yes, you did.” She rooted for a moment and then pulled out a small white envelope with a card. “See, he really did.” She shoved it under Elise’s nose.

  Elise pulled out the card. It read, “Miss you so much. All my love, Lucas.” She handed it to Lucas and flipped the envelope over, taking great care to memorize the name of the florist.

  “This is some mistake, a sad joke, I’m afraid.” Lucas handed the card back. “I never had any flowers sent, I swear.”

  “Oh, Lucas, it doesn’t matter.” Monique rose and clutched his forearm. “Come back to Atlanta. You weren’t made to vegetate in a woeful farm field. We’ll fly down to the islands and catch some rays.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not vegetating, Monique, and the only rays I need to catch are those of hope. I’m starting up a leasing business and a spin-off restoration garage. And there’s Todd to consider.” It took all of his willpower to remain calm.

  “I love you, Lucas. We can take the kid back with us and get a nanny,” she pleaded, “or put him in boarding school.”

  Elise shot from the chair so fast Lucas was sure her teeth rattled in her mouth.

  With those pearly whites bared, she stormed across the living room to the front door and tore it open. “Let me tell you something, Monique, darling,” she drawled, “before I tell you where to go. ‘The kid,’ as you refer to him, will never see a nanny or boarding school as long as I can breathe.” She took a cleansing breath. “Now get out!”

  Monique brushed past her, her sweet cloying perfume clinging to the air. “You’ll change your mind,” she said to Elise, “once you discover how tiresome the little brat can be.”

  “The child has a name,” Elise said through a hiss. “It’s Todd, Todd Fisher.”

  Monique sneered. “The kid will be a noose around your neck, believe me. You’ll grow weary of tying shoelaces and wiping mud off his hands and smudges off everything he touches. You’re a career woman, just like I am, Elise. Eventually, you’ll go mad reading those silly, boring little storybooks night after night. You’ll itch for the freedom to come and go as you please. You just wait.”

  She turned to Lucas and gave him a frosty glare. “She’s taking advantage of you and your affections to get to your money. She can never love you like I can. Never! You’re going to be sorry, too.” She jammed her sunglasses onto her face and stormed out, slamming the screen door.

  “Don’t bet on it,” Lucas said under his breath as he watched her leave.

  ****

  Elise woke up the next day before the sunlight even brightened the curtains in her room. Gathering her hair and securing it into a ponytail, she dragged on a pair of capris and a tee-shirt and tiptoed down the stairs. She needed time to think, and of late, the house was more like a noisy hotel, its door constantly revolving with Fritz, Cindy, and J.B. bustling back and forth.

  Her first instinct was to put on a pot of coffee, but when she checked the refrigerator she realized they were out of milk. Again. She sighed. Between Fritz and Todd, they needed to rent a cow or buy a few dairy ones again.

  The keys to the old Trans Am lay on the kitchen table. She scooped them up, checking the bread drawer before quietly slipping out the back door.

  Yesterday, she had called the florist in Atlanta only to find the flowers sent to Monique were purchased from Rosie’s Posies in Scranton and were paid for in cash instead of a credit card. It would only mean only one thing. Someone in the area had access to information about Lucas Fisher.

  How and why, she wondered, as she slid into the slippery leather bucket seat of the car and headed for the supermarket.

  Only three possibilities popped into her head. Someone had extracted the information from Mike’s database address book or from police records, or it was one of Lucas’s own employees. It was no secret the state police had been forced to track Lucas down to tell him of Mike’s death.

  It was also no secret both J.B. and the men at the garage usually knew his whereabouts. Monique, herself, had coaxed Lucas’s Pennsylvania phone number out of them. However, it didn’t make sense why anyone would want him to patch up his relationship with Monique.

  The twenty-four-hour market wasn’t making an early morning killing when Elise guided her car into a parking spot near the entrance. Only a half dozen cars peppered the lot, and she easily recognized the beat-up blue Mazda of Mary Jo Meyer.

  Purse in hand, she hurried to the dairy section and picked up a gallon of milk. Then she checked the aisles, finally spotting Mary Jo near the frozen food section.

  “I’ve been meaning to come out and see you again,” Elise said to Mary Jo’s back. She was doubled over, her head stuck inside the ice cream freezer.

  Mary Jo straightened, turned, and smiled. “I assumed with your Dad still hospitalized you’d be pretty busy. How’s he doing?”

  It was then Elise saw the fine purple bruise along Mary Jo’s left jaw, artfully covered with make-up, but not entirely concealed. Even as her stomach did a quick flip, she forced herself to remain calm. She deliberated, wondering whether to ignore it. After all, she admitted to herself, Mary Jo was a grown woman who didn’t need anyone intervening in her life and marriage. The thought of Philip Cullington and his need to hurt women struck home. The damage his fist had once done to her own face was already rising in her mind from some dark lonely spot where she had managed to keep it hidden. The pain had been nearly unbearable, and the bruises had taken weeks to heal. Before she realized it, her hand had involuntarily moved to touch her own jaw. She waited, her eyes pinned to Mary Jo’s dull ones.

  “Oh.” Mary Jo gave her a forced, small smile. “I had some dental work done, and I bruise easily.”

  Elise nodded, uttering a silent but vicious mental curse. Yes, she mused, and that’s why you grocery shop before sunrise so no one will see you.

  “I think maybe I’d consider changing dentists,” Elise said to lighten the mood.

  “Yes, well...” Mary Jo struggled for something to say.

  “I was talking with Cindy the other day, and she told me both Lackawanna College and Scranton University have programs in early childhood and elementary education. One of her sisters is in her third year at Lackawanna. I’m sure she’d be eager to tell you about it.”

  Alarm shot in Mary Jo’s eyes as she chose an ice cream container and put it into the front basket of her shopping cart. Her wedding band flashed as she etched a swirl design into the frost on the lid with a fingernail. “No, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

  “Listen, you could start taking courses during the day when the kids are in school. I know I can help you get the money to go, even part time.” Her mind flashed to Lucas Fisher. He would, if she asked him, give the money willingly and anonymously.

  “It wouldn’t work,” Mary Jo said in low voice. “Ted and I have our problems, I’ll admit, but he would never permit me to return to college.”

  Elise knew why he’d never agree. Because he was afraid Mary Jo might become independent and leave him. “Have you tried counseling?” she asked.

  Mary Jo gave a strangled laugh. “He’s a cop, Elise. He’d be the laughing stock of his peers.”

  “Well, that’s just terrific.” Elise felt her temper soar. So he protects his job even when he’s incapable of protecting his own family from himself, she thought.

  “You don’t understand—”

  “No, I don’t, Mary Jo. I really don’t understand how you explain all this to your children. You, who always believed in leading by example. Good Lord, how many times do you think you can tell them you’ve fallen down or walked into a door?” She let out a long breath and looked up at the woman’s pained, defeated eyes. A woman who used to be vibrant, sparkling and full of life. “Mike Fisher knew, didn’t he?” she asked.

  This time the pain was replaced by fright. Sheer cold fright. Mary Jo swallowed, but didn’
t speak.

  “Never mind, you don’t have to answer.” Mike Fisher knew all right, or he suspected, Elise thought. Why else would he drop Todd off for her to baby-sit? He knew Ted couldn’t do anything with him lurking around.

  “Tell me, Mary Jo, was Ted called out the night Mike Fisher had his accident?”

  Mary Jo nodded. “Yes, he finished his shift and was glad to be in for the night. Then after midnight, he was called back out again. What are you implying? I wish you would please stop insinuating things about my husband all the time. You can ask my sister, Elaine. She was staying at the house with me that night. Ted’s a good man, Elise. He’s working to control his temper. He has a very difficult and stressful job. You don’t understand.”

  “Maybe I don’t,” Elise admitted.

  Mary Jo turned and looked up the aisle toward the cash registers. “Look, I really gotta go. Ted’s watching the kids until his shift starts.”

  Her heart aching, Elise nodded and watched her go, pushing the half-empty cart ahead of her like her half-empty marriage.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was barely six o’clock the next morning when Elise rolled over in bed and heard giggles and thumping noises coming from the kitchen below. Seconds later, the smell of bacon and the rich scent of vanilla mixed with cinnamon permeated the air. It took all her willpower to drag herself out of bed and pull on a pair of running shorts and a tee-shirt to see what was causing the commotion. She found Lucas and Todd making breakfast in a kitchen that looked like it had imploded on itself. Dry pancake mix covered the counters, egg shells littered the sink, and dirty spoons, forks, measuring cups, and spatulas lay among the rubble of used but now discarded bowls. A rumpled Lucas was manning the stove and griddle while a pajama-clad Todd stood on a chair beside him. Holding a bottle of maple syrup, the little boy was covered in a fine dusting of white powdered sugar. Elise was sure there wasn’t an inch on the child that wasn’t sticky. Beside the chair, Bess sat contented and watchful, waiting to lap up whatever dropped onto the floor during the commotion. It took Elise a moment to realize they were making French toast.