All Who Dream (Letting Go)

by Deese, Nicole

  “Like really pretty,” he said, beaming.

  My heart melted into a puddle.

  “Well, I’m quite lucky to be escorted by the most handsome man in New York tonight.” I winked at him.

  “Who? Mr. Ross?” he asked, wide-eyed.

  I almost choked on the air I sucked in.

  “No—you! You crazy boy.” I laughed, ignoring the knot forming in my stomach.

  “Oh. Right.”

  He took my hand as we walked out the door. I shook my head, grounding myself. If only I could escape the anxiety that was taking up residence in my core.

  When Pippy called to confirm Walt would pick us up as planned, she said she had to stay back and finish up some last minute work but planned to meet us at the event a bit later.

  No mention of Mr. Ross.

  As the evening was young, the sky was still bright. I studied the city from my window in the car. Maybe the shopping outing tomorrow might include some sort of tour. Apart from Cody’s fact drills, I knew next to nothing about New York and was anxious to see it. The sounds, the sights, the smells were all so foreign to anything I knew. Though Dallas was a major U.S. city, it was nothing like this. New York was its own unique breed.

  We pulled up to a beautiful building that seemed to be inspired by French-Colonial architecture. Everything felt rich, elegant and luxurious.

  We checked our names on the guest list then entered the opulent foyer. Cody linked arms with me like a gentleman, and together we walked toward the banquet hall.

  Pippy had said this dinner would be full of upper management at Pinkerton, along with their affiliates. I wasn’t expecting a large crowd, but again I was proven wrong. The room was swimming with bodies—all dressed to the nines. I patted Cody’s linked arm, reassuring him this party was going to fine. Really, it was me who needed that reassurance.

  Within thirty seconds of stepping into the extravagant space, filled with crystal chandeliers and beautifully-set tables, a tall, attractive man with dark, spikey hair approached us.

  “You must be Pinkerton’s secret weapon—Angela Flores, I presume? I’ve heard so much about you. Dee and I go way back.”

  I laughed softly. “Oh, I don’t know about that—Mr.?”

  “Vargus. Stewart Vargus. I’m the Chief Operating Officer at Pinkerton,” he said, shaking my hand.

  “Well it’s nice to meet you Mr. Vargus. This is my son, Cody.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, partner,” he said to Cody. “Let me introduce you to some folks and then we can find your table for the evening.”

  I’m not sure how many people I met—but there was no earthly way I could remember all the names and faces. Mr. Vargus escorted us everywhere. He seemed friendly and eager to help me settle into the crowd—unlike another certain person who’d made my acquaintance of late. Finally, he led us to our table then kissed my hand gently before making his way back to his own.

  It was then that I saw Pippy flitting across the floor in her black stilettos, holding one edge of her long, emerald gown. How the girl could move so quickly in heels that tall I had no idea. Her smile was contagious as she found me.

  “Hi! Wow, you look beautiful, Angie! I was hoping someone would take you under their wing until I got here.” She looked around briefly and then frowned. “Although I kinda had someone else in mind for the job.” Her last words were mumbled, but I didn’t miss her meaning. Her face held an unmistakable look of disappointment.

  She noticed Jackson’s disdain for me, too, then.

  I swallowed, my face burning with fresh humiliation.

  Until her statement, I was still holding onto a thread of hope that I was assuming too much—making presumptions about Jackson based on my own experiences with the opposite sex. But apparently I was spot on. Jackson Ross didn’t like me. And the worst part was, he didn’t even know me! Suddenly, I thought of the “feeling chart” we used in small group at The Refuge. It took me only a millisecond to identify the emotion I was currently experiencing: anger.

  In my head, a full-on toddler tantrum raged. Pippy smiled apologetically. I hoped she wouldn’t make excuses for him—he was a big boy. Thankfully, she pursed her lips together and turned to Cody instead.

  “Cody, you will love this food—it is scrumptious,” Pippy began. “Have you ever had escargot?”

  “Ewww…no way. I know what that is. You can’t trick me.” Cody scrunched up his nose.

  Pippy laughed and threw her hands up in mock-surrender, “Touché! I forgot what a smart boy your mom raised! She claimed you were very bright. I guess she doesn’t lie.”

  “Nope. My mom never lies,” he said, smugly.

  I kissed the top of his head as my stomach rolled.

  Chapter Five

  Lies

  I lie to keep me safe

  I lie to keep me sound

  I lie even when there’s no one else around

  I lie to make it better

  I lie to make it right

  I lie in the hope it won't turn into a fight

  I lie when I'm scared

  I lie when I'm hurt

  I lie to avoid the flames though I'll still be burnt

  I lie when I'm sad

  I lie when I'm weak

  I lie just to prove I still have a voice that speaks

  I lie to be loved

  I lie to protect

  I lie to everyone I know yet they all suspect

  **********

  I saw him during dinner.

  Every female in the room looked up when Jackson entered. An exotic-looking woman with dark skin and even darker hair rose to greet him. She kissed him on each cheek before escorting him to her table. Something hot burned in my chest as I pulled my gaze away to glare at my cheesecake.

  I hated cheesecake.

  I took a bite, willing myself to enjoy the flavor.

  I did not enjoy the flavor.

  I jabbed my fork into the creamy mound and took another bite.

  “Miss Flores?”

  Lifting my eyes from the now massacred dessert, I found Stewart Vargus standing at my table. He looked from me to Pippy.

  “Hello, Pippy,” he said, nodding to her.

  Pippy’s gaze darted to the table that held Mr. Ross. “Hey, Mr. Vargus.”

  “May I have a word with you, Miss Flores?” Stewart asked and offered me his hand.

  I glanced at Pippy. She seemed to be saying so much with her eyes, but I understood none of it.

  “I’ll stay here with Cody,” she said hesitantly then turned to Cody and engaged him in conversation.

  The next thing I knew, I was standing up, and Stewart’s hand was on my lower back, propelling me toward the far corner of the room. People were starting to rise from their chairs and form small social circles again, but my attention was focused on the unwanted touch that was burning a hole in my spine. I took two steps to the side, and he dropped his hand immediately. I exhaled, feeling the panic rush from my body.

  “Miss Flores, I was hoping we could set up a meeting at my office sometime during the next week. I can have my assistant speak with Pippy to arrange it. I know you’re on a fairly tight tour schedule, but I think there are a few things we should discuss…about your book contract.”

  “Oh? Can you be a tad more specific Mr. Vargus?”

  Before he could answer, my phone vibrated inside my clutch purse. Mr. Vargus gave a quick nod of his head, indicating I should check the caller. After a quick glance at Pippy and Cody who were still at the table looking at Cody’s iPad, I slid the phone out. I knew the area code but not the number.

  “May I?” I asked him.

  “Certainly, I’ll be in contact,” Mr. Vargus said then walked away.

  Slipping into the hallway I answered the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Is…is this Angela?” A shaky, female voice asked on the other end.

  “Yes, this is Angela. May I ask who’s speaking?”

  “This…this is Jenny. We met a few wee
ks ago at The Refuge.”

  Her face appeared instantly in my mind’s eye. I had spent nearly an hour listening to her heartbreaking story last month. I remembered her well.

  “Yes, hi, Jenny. How are you? Is something wrong, sweetheart?”

  I walked down the hall and through a door that led to an outside exit.

  “Not really—no. I left him…my boyfriend.”

  I breathed in deep, relief filling my soul. “Okay, and where are you now? Are you safe tonight?”

  “Yes, I made my exit plan like we talked about, and I did it. I left. I’m at my Aunt’s house in Oklahoma.”

  “Oh, Jenny, I am so proud of you. I know it was hard. I know you’re feeling a lot of things right now, and not all of them feel good…but you did the right thing. You are worth more than staying with an abuser. I want you to hear that.”

  I could hear her crying on the other end. I waited, giving her time to speak.

  “Thank you—I just kept replaying your words over and over in my head. You gave me the courage to do it.”

  “No, you had the courage…you just needed some support.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” she said.

  “Promise me you’ll keep me in the loop—I also want you to let either Rosie or Maggie know where you’re at, okay?”

  “Okay, I promise.”

  “I’m proud of you, Jenny.”

  After a few minutes more of reassuring conversation, I hung up the phone and slipped it back into my clutch.

  “Problem?”

  Though he had spoken less than a dozen words to me since we’d met, I knew that voice. What was wrong with me that I had subconsciously committed it to memory the first time I heard it? I turned around, slowly.

  There stood Jackson Ross, ten feet from me, arms crossed over his broad chest, an eyebrow raised in expectation.

  My pulse quickened as our eyes met. “No, just had to take a phone call.”

  He stared at me, his face blank of emotion. “You have no business with Stewart Vargus.”

  He saw me speaking with Stewart Vargus?

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry—I didn’t—”

  “Why?” He lifted a second eyebrow in question.

  “Why what?” I asked breathless.

  “Why are you sorry? I was stating a fact, not seeking your repentance. Are you always so needlessly apologetic, Miss Flores, or is it just a bad habit of yours I should get used to?” He dropped his hands to his sides, never once breaking eye contact.

  His audacity was shocking. Though it was typical of me to hold my tongue, there was nothing typical about this man or this conversation. Heat flashed inside me, and my fingers curled tight to my palms.

  I scowled at him. “Well, are you always so impolite when speaking to a woman you just met, Mr. Ross, or have I done something to warrant this disdain you seem to have for me?”

  My audacity was shocking as well. I had never spoken so freely…to anyone, much less a CEO dressed in a suit that was likely worth more than my car.

  He smiled—a real, earth-shattering, heart-melting, need-to-brace-myself-against-a-wall kind of smile.

  I hated its effect on me.

  “Disdain?” He asked.

  “Yes. Disdain, dislike, displeasure, disgust-” I rattled off.

  The corners of his mouth ticked. “I’m quite familiar with the word, but thank you for providing such worthy synonyms.”

  I pursed my lips as he took a step closer, my neck suddenly boiling with heat at his nearness.

  “But I’m afraid your observations are misguided, Miss. Flores. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked away, rendering me speechless. Like usual.

  I hadn’t the slightest clue what was going on tomorrow—or why he would be seeing me—but when Jackson Ross spoke, his word was law.

  Unyielding.

  Uncompromising.

  Unbreakable.

  **********

  Morning came too early. After chatting with Rosie late into the night, careful to leave my most recent interaction with Jackson out of our conversation, my sleep was fitful at best.

  But today was Saturday: a.k.a shopping day, and I was determined to make the most of the opportunity, even if I was sick to my stomach about spending money on frivolous items like clothing.

  I checked the schedule, which Pippy had agreed to email me since the changes were constant. There was another dinner this evening. I guessed that was the event to which Mr. Ross had been referring last night. My cheeks burned with remembrance.

  “Mom, how long are we going to shop?” Cody took a bite of a blueberry muffin as we waited for Pippy to arrive. She’d texted she had a stop on the way, so we decided to grab a quick breakfast at the bakery next door to the Ross building.

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey. And I’m not sure. I don’t know what she has planned, but it might be longer than you’re used to.” I rubbed his head.

  “Well, I have my backpack loaded and ready.”

  I giggled. Goofball.

  When we walked outside minutes later, I nearly gasped. There, standing on the sidewalk in another designer suit, was Jackson Ross.

  What is he doing here?

  “Hey, Mr. Ross!” Cody said, giving him a high-five.

  “Hey, short-stuff.”

  “Are you going shopping with us?” Cody asked.

  “Thought you could use a man-break.”

  My ears perked up at the casual way he spoke to Cody.

  “What’s a man-break?” Cody asked.

  “It’s what men do while ladies shop.” He shrugged.

  “Oh, cool,” Cody said happily.

  Pippy was inside the car already—on her cell. She was pressed up against the inside of the door, absorbed in conversation. Cody jumped into the front seat without a second thought, leaving me with Jackson.

  “After you.” Jackson said, holding the door for me.

  A rush of heat flooded my gut and my cheeks simultaneously.

  “Cody, you need to offer that seat to Mr. Ross. Where are your manners?” I scolded.

  “Oh…did you want to sit here, Mr. Ross?” Cody asked, turning around in his seat to stare at us both standing on the curb.

  “No, thank you,” he said.

  I glanced up at Jackson as I heard a hint of something quite unusual in his tone—amusement.

  I slid into the seat, acutely aware that I was in jeans, ballet flats, and a black tank top—apparently underdressed for the excursion. He must not have been too concerned about me contaminating his fancy suit pants though because there wasn’t a spot on my leg that his leg didn’t touch. I tried to scoot closer to Pippy, but my attempt made no difference. We were like peanut butter and jelly—oozing together despite the distinctly different tastes.

  Hearing a low, deep chuckle escape him, the irrational fire that had filled my core last night, returned. Though I’d spend years helping women analyze the relationships in their lives, I still did not understand this man—much less, the affect he had on me.

  I turned to him, my prior insecurities of speaking my mind to a man of his position and power, now completely absent. “Cody doesn’t need a babysitter, you know. He is used to tagging along with me, and if I recall correctly, I thought you had more important things to do than to be bothered with shopping.”

  “You don’t.”

  I took a deep breath and then gave in to the bait set before me.

  “I don’t what?” I stared out Pippy’s window as she covered one ear with her hand, still speaking on the phone.

  “Recall correctly.”

  I most certainly did recall correctly. I remembered every word that came out of his mouth during our first encounter, including his hurtful assessment of me. Me, the just a mom.

  “You said you had more important things on your mind than a wardrobe crisis.” My low-voiced exclamation came out more like a hiss than a whisper.

  His smile was smug, as if I hadn’t just proven him wrong.

  “Tr
ue, but other concerns don’t rule out my company today.”

  “Fine.” I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to say more. I didn’t want to play into whatever game this was.

  “Fine.” He took out his phone and scrolled through his emails, a slow grin working it’s way on his face when he glanced at me.

  I felt exhausted already, and the day had yet to begin. One thing was for certain: I wasn’t going to let him have the last word every time.

  **********

  I couldn’t remember the last time I was in a store that only sold clothing. I did the majority of my shopping where I could get groceries, office supplies and bathroom products all within a few aisles of each other. That was not the kind of store Pippy had in mind for today, however.

  Walt dropped us off near the Soho district, which Pippy had suggested. The second we walked into the cozy store I knew I was in way over my head. Back home Rosie was my shopping buddy—and though she was far more fashionable than I—this place would put her to shame. Pippy took hold of my arm, reassuring me as we browsed the great quality of clothing the store possessed, but all I could think about was price point.

  Cody and Jackson found a nice comfy couch to occupy while Pippy held up multiple dresses against my skin. I looked at the price tag first, much to Pippy’s dissatisfaction. The guys were sucked into their electronic devices, both intent on the screens before them.

  “This is going to be like playing dress up with a real life Barbie Doll! Eeek! I’m so excited!” Pippy grabbed another gown and hooked it onto the dressing room door.

  My cheeks flashed hot. Couldn’t she have a little more of an inside voice?

  “Pippy…uh, how many dresses did you put in there?” I whispered, hoping she would take the hint.

  “Oh, uh…maybe twelve? You should probably start trying them on, I guess.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the room.

  Having a second alone with her, I whispered, “Pippy, what is Jackson really doing here?”

  She shrugged, “I was as surprised as you were to see him this morning. Just roll with it, okay? I don’t want to jinx our shopping day. This kind of thing is highly unusual for Pinkerton, but….” Her eyes crinkled as she grinned at me.