Speak Now

by Chautona Havig

  The question seemed to confuse her. “What do mean? Of course, you don’t talk too much. You hardly talk at all. Over seventy-five percent of our time together has either been in silence or with me doing all the talking. Why would you—” Cara stopped mid verbal explosion. “You meant it.”

  “I meant it.”

  “Lily—she was tall and thin though, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you were attracted to her?” Cara persisted.

  “Yes.”

  “But you’re also attracted to me?”

  Jonathan allowed every ounce of sincerity he felt to infuse into each word. “More than I’ve ever been attracted to anyone.”

  “But Lily was tall and thin and beautiful—”

  “Inside, yes.”

  It took Cara a moment to process his words. “She had a lovely personality? Is that what you mean?”

  “Yes.” He felt like a robot, giving minimalistic answers—almost as though deliberately fighting the superfluity of words.

  “But Riley is so pretty… and Bryson is such a handsome little dude… surely Lily was physically beautiful as well.”

  “She was to me, but if I am honest with myself, no. Most people wouldn’t say she was a beautiful woman—at least physically speaking she wasn’t.”

  Cara shook her head uncomprehendingly. “I don’t believe you. It’s really nice of you to—”

  Without a word, Jonathan reached into his back pocket, pulled out a copy of their engagement picture, and passed it to her. Her frown told him she thought he’d handed her the worst picture he could find, so he passed her his entire wallet. “That’s probably the best picture of Lily. She was incredibly photogenic.”

  Jonathan knew she couldn’t mistake his sincerity, but he pulled out a family photo as well. Cara stared at each picture, trying to see what he meant and finally gave up, asking, “What do you mean by photogenic?”

  “She always looked more… something in pictures. In person she was rather plain, if you didn’t know her well, but in pictures she has a sparkle that wasn’t there in real life.”

  Cara glanced at the pictures once more. “I felt inadequate.”

  “I know you did.”

  “I thought,” she flushed as she fumbled for words. “I thought you must be comparing us, and I just knew I’d come up wanting.”

  “I know.”

  “Instead,” Cara added miserably, “at the risk of sounding horribly vain, I can see that I’m—” the words refused to come.

  “You’re a beautiful woman. Lily was to me and to her parents… even to Bryson, but….”

  “But she wasn’t so—”

  Jonathan stopped her. Taking a deep breath, he spoke when he wanted nothing more than silence. To his relief, he saw that she sensed it. “I can’t compare you with her. You are two very different women. I never compared Lily to my mother, and I won’t compare you to her.” He laid his fingers on her lips as Cara tried to speak. “I don’t know where the sudden insecurity came from. It’s not like you. If I hadn’t already seen that, I would have learned it today from your home. You’re usually very comfortable with who you are, but there’s something about your weight or shape or something that bothers you, and when you let it take root, it corrupts your thinking.”

  Cara nodded. “You’re right.”

  He stood, extended his hand, and pulled Cara to her feet. Standing so close, he could read the doubt in her eyes, and under his gaze, he watched her self-confidence slowly return, but a hint of hesitation lingered somewhere in her heart. He could see it.

  Jonathan stepped back across the entry to the gazebo and leaned against the other side. He crossed his arms and stared at her for several minutes, his eyes traveling over her from head to toe and back again, meeting her eyes for many long moments as he did. A slow smile spread over his face and Cara blushed again.

  “You wouldn’t change anything.” Cara didn’t question; she spoke with confidence and assurance.

  “Not one.”

  As if she couldn’t resist one last reassurance on the biggest difference between herself and the woman Jonathan had loved first, Cara whispered, “Even my height?”

  With two swift steps, Jonathan stood next to her and wrapped an arm around her for a moment, tucking her head into his chest before he released her again. He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Especially not your height.”

  Chapter Six

  At eleven-thirty, a steady stream of personnel disappeared out the door as the office slowly emptied. While the call of lunch tables all over the city drew everyone from the building, Cara smiled and took a deep breath. The office finally emptied. From that moment until the clock clicked one o’clock, she had the place to herself—aside from the occasional ringing phone. The best part of her day. Her cellphone skittled across the desk as it buzzed, announcing a text message. She smiled at Jonathan’s text. HAVING TROUBLE DECIDING WHERE WE SHOULD EAT. HAVE IDEAS?

  Cara flipped through the office take-out notebook. Five minutes and one order later, she sent back a quick text. 43223 WATERBROOK. PICK UP AT 12:50 SHARP. THEN COME GET ME. Seconds later, she sent another text. MISS YOU JONAFAN

  Her laughter rang out across the room as she saw the reply. AM I STILL THE HANDSOMEST MAN YOU’VE EVER MET?

  RILEY TOLD! CHEATER. Wendy from accounting stalked through the office and slammed quarterly reports onto Cara’s desk as she typed out her reply.

  “Something wrong, Wendy?”

  “Men are pigs.” Before Cara could reply, the woman stormed from the room, knocking over the receptionist’s inbox as she did.

  “Well,” Cara muttered under her breath as she hurried to try to restore order to Tina’s workspace, “I happen to know one who’s not.”

  She had just over an hour to think of a fun place to eat Chinese. Jonathan had made each afternoon such an enjoyable treat, she wanted to come up with something equally fun and not too time consuming, but where could they eat their lunch now that she’d arranged it? Before she could come up with a viable option, her cellphone erupted with “She works hard for her money…”

  She slid open her phone. “Hey, Derek. I just got the reports from Wendy, and I was going to fax them over.”

  “Why can’t she— Oh. It’s lunchtime. I still don’t get why you hang around there…”

  “It gives Tina lunch out with friends or with her husband. He’s only got six months, max. I can take a late lunch so she can eat with him.”

  “He’s still working?” Derek’s voice sounded deceptively bored. Papers shuffled, and he murmured at the appropriate places as Cara gave him the latest update on the dying man’s condition and his attempts to keep working.

  “If he makes it until October, he can retire with full benefits for both of them.” She sighed. “He’ll probably kill himself doing it, but he wants her covered.”

  After a few noncommittal grunts, Derek snapped to attention. “Okay, faxes just came through. I see the Loss Reserves adjustment needs to be refigured. Get Locksley on that.”

  “Did his parents have to name him Robin?”

  Derek laughed. “I think that every single time I say or hear his name.”

  She laughed as she made a note. “At least their last name wasn’t Hood.”

  “Is the presentation ready for the board meeting Wednesday?”

  “I’ve made some adjustments to it. Wayne left out the internet department completely. I won’t be done until Tuesday, I’m sure.”

  “I’d like to look it over before the meeting, Cara. Can you have it on my desk by Monday?” Derek asked, expecting to hear an unequivocal “yes.”

  Silence hung on the line. Her boss spoke her name twice before she answered. “Sorry, Derek. Um, there’s a problem.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not free this weekend. I can’t give it my full attention until Tuesday. I’ve gotten some done, but…”

  “What’s up?” The full attention of Mayflower Trust’s CFO latc
hed onto his usually eager to please assistant.

  “I’ve got plans this weekend.”

  “Oh, right. The wedding. I forgot about that. Of course, take your time. I’ll come in and review the presentation early Wednesday.”

  The temptation nearly overwhelmed her. She’d established herself as someone who’d do anything to be a success in the company, outside of her church commitments, and this one thing could kill that. “Um, Derek. The wedding was last weekend.”

  “So what gives?” A trace of irritation crept into his voice. She knew that he needed that information, and he didn’t want to arrive early to review it.

  “Well—” Oh, Cara wanted to promise to have it on Monday in order to avoid this discussion, but the idea of losing a minute of her very limited time with Jonathan or his children filled her with dismay. “I’ve promised to be somewhere all weekend. I’m not even coming in until after one on Monday, and I just can’t do it, Derek.”

  “Who is he?”

  “What?” Perspiration threatened to ruin her perfectly planned outfit.

  “I’m not a fool, Cara. The only thing I can think of that might possibly keep you from jumping to make this happen for me is a guy.” She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes. People would start trickling in any moment. Of course, half of them had seen her with Jonathan. All he had to do— “Look, I can call Tina. She’ll give me the whole office speculation pool and add embellishments with no charge.”

  “I met him at the wedding.”

  “So you guys going away for the weekend, or what?” His voice sounded doubtful. Everyone in the office knew that Cara didn’t operate that way.

  “No. He’s only here until Monday around noon. Then he heads back to Atlanta.”

  “And you’re spending the weekend with him.”

  Cara decided to make a full confession. “And his two children, yes.”

  “Whoa.” Their phones remained silent, each of them in their own minds and working out the ramifications of her declaration. “Okay, look, Cara. Tomorrow night, six o’clock, you hand everything you have over to Chan and tell him you want it on your desk by noon Monday, ready to go. Give him a list of what you saw missing and tell him to check every fact twice to make sure it’s good. Take it, polish it, and have it on my desk before you leave Tuesday night.”

  “Why are you doing this for me, Derek?”

  “Because you give this company one hundred fifty percent every single week. We can give you a weekend off now and then.”

  Cara thanked him and started to hang up, but Derek’s voice stopped her. “Laas… there’s one thing though. Don’t let this guy mess with you. I don’t want to see you hurt—” He cleared his throat, clearly realizing his words might be considered inappropriate. What she did with her life outside the office was none of his business, and they both knew it. “I need you on your game next week.”

  “The troops are returning, sir. Time to get ready for mess hall myself. I’ll take care of it. Thanks.”

  Tina watched Cara slip into her office and close the door gently behind her. Cara, knowing she was under scrutiny, debated whether she should change her outfit or not. During her conversation with Derek, her top had become soaked with perspiration, but if she left in a different outfit, the rumor mill would grind twice as quickly. She opened the door to her small storage closet and stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She had to change. The soaked spots under her arms were too conspicuous to be comfortable. She’d never be able to avoid the embarrassment factor. Just as she reached for a fresh blouse, frowning at the boring, plain ivory as though it deliberately ruined her look, the intercom clicked on from the office.

  “Of course, go right in, Mrs. Laas. She’s still here.”

  “Cara!” Her mother burst through the door, carrying the familiar garment bag that proved her mother had been sewing again. “I got it done.”

  “Got what done?”

  “Remember that Michael Kors suit we saw? The pencil skirt and boucle jacket?”

  For a moment, Cara understood how people believed in fairy godmothers. It was harder to imagine more perfect timing if she’d planned it. The clock showed one minute after one o’clock. “Mom, it better fit. You’re a life saver.”

  “Oh, ew. Here, I’ve got antiperspirant in my bag—”

  “I’ve got some, Mom, I just didn’t have any change of clothes that I wanted to wear. This is perfect.”

  “Who cares—” Diane Laas’ eyes widened. “You’re going out with him again, aren’t you?” The woman nearly bounced with excitement. “You’ll look great. Here. Put it on.”

  As she pulled a caramel colored skirt from the garment bag, Cara glanced at her mother in surprise. “I thought we chose the conch pink?”

  “We did. And when it arrived, it was the exact color that makes your hair look pink.”

  “Ugh.”

  “I’m so glad I ordered the caramel and black too. I thought maybe I’d make a black dress and a pair of black slacks to combine with them all.”

  While her mother thrust baby wipes and tissues at her, Cara gave herself a quick “spit bath” behind the closet door. She wriggled into the skirt, buttoned the short-sleeved jacket, and adjusted the collar. “There. How does it look?” Cara stepped from behind the door wearing the new ensemble and brushing out her hair.

  “Why’d you take down your hair?”

  “Well—”

  Diane Lass jumped up and down excitedly. “I haven’t seen you this into a date since you were in college!”

  “I haven’t dated since college, Mother!”

  Diane paused, staring at the picture Cara made, her hair waving down her back and in her new suit. “That outfit looks stunning. Honestly, with a color name like caramel, it fits. He’s going to find you good enough to eat.”

  Outside the office door, Jonathan grinned. He’d overheard just enough to be flattered. He knocked twice, waited for an invitation and stepped inside, giving Cara his familiar once over. “Well, that wasn’t an exaggeration...”

  “Oh! Jonathan. Did you meet my mother at the wedding?” Fumbling over her words, much to his delight, Cara introduced him to Diane.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Laas.” He smiled at Cara. “I’ve just come to take her to lunch. Would you like to join us?”

  “Oh, no… I mean, I’d like it, yes, but I have things to do.”

  “Like what?” Cara interjected. “Planning to start that other dress right now?”

  “No, but I do have a house to put back in order now that this is done.” Diane waved at the outfit Cara wore. “Nice to meet you, Jonathan. Don’t waste your lunch break chatting with me.” She grabbed her purse and disappeared through the door before he could say anything.

  Cara flushed as he turned back to her and gave her an apprising glance. “She is a bit of a genius, isn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “You ready? I have a car full of food and no one to share it with.”

  ~*~*~*~

  “I can’t believe you came into the office.”

  “Well, you mentioned that they were talking. I just wanted to give them an accurate picture.” He opened the car door for her. “So, where are we going?”

  Cara panicked. She’d been so focused on the presentation and then her own presentation that she’d forgotten they didn’t have anywhere to go. “The mission. They’ll be cleaning up now, and we can share with Barney when we’re done.”

  He turned down West Seventh Avenue toward Virginia Parkway. “Okay, do you want to go there because it’s where you want to go or because it’s the first place you thought of?”

  “First place. My boss called while I was trying to decide where to take you and got me sidetracked. Then Mom showed up with the suit and I was excited about that…”

  He glanced at her as he turned at the light. Cara caught his eye and smiled. “Thank you.”

  He turned into the cemetery and parked on the south side. The car idled in the parking spot f
or a minute before Cara found her voice. “Um, Jonathan?” She hesitated. “Is Lily buried in Rockland?” He nodded. She expected to see tears in his eyes, but instead there was a plea for understanding. “Do you want to eat on those benches over there?”

  As he climbed from the vehicle, Jonathan tucked in his shirt, pocketed the keys, and shut the door quietly behind him. He opened the door for Cara and held out his hand as he always did. Her three-inch ivory heels crunched on the asphalt, wobbling on a rock for a moment. His hands instinctively reached for her; one hand lingering on her waist while the other held her hand tightly.

  “We look ready to dance,” she whispered. Unlike previous moments where they’d managed any kind of brief contact, neither of them moved.

  The breeze caught her door and slammed it into the back of Jonathan’s legs. He stumbled closer but didn’t release her. Cara watched his eyes carefully. Something they said brought a faint blush to her cheeks. Beneath eyelashes that no man should be allowed to have, Jonathan’s dark chocolate eyes told her he never wanted to move.

  “You’d miss the children,” she protested, laughing. Wisdom screamed at her to step away, but Cara mentally plugged her ears with her fingers and sang “la-la-la” at the top her imaginary lungs. There was something electrically mesmerizing about their proximity.

  If I regained consciousness, his expression retorted.

  Swallowing hard, Cara reached for the bags, never taking her eyes from Jonathan’s face. “Hungry?”

  Jonathan took one step closer, leaving a mere fraction of light separating them. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  “Chinese?” she retorted quickly, hoping to diffuse the rush of color to her face before it got any worse.

  “I prefer French,” Jonathan began with an obvious guess at her ancestry, “but I’ll settle for Chinese right now.”

  Much to her mortification, a most indelicate snort escaped before she could prevent it. She flushed an even deeper red and dropped her eyes at last. Jonathan tilted her face toward him once more and smiled. “You have no idea how much I want—you have no idea.”