I looked across at him, unsure of what I expected to see. Part of me was scared and part of me was hopeful. All I saw was an expressionless mask, this scared me more than any form of rejection could.
“What are you doing tonight?” Clark stuffed his hands into his pockets, his eyes studying my face.
I hesitated, surprised. “Nothing planned,” I said slowly.
“How does dinner at O'Brian's sound?” he turned, making his way to the door. “Say 8 o'clock.”
“Sounds good,” I watched him open the door.
“Then I'll see you there.”
Before he stepped through the door, I spoke up, “You forgot the ring.”
He didn't look back but Clark paused, then said, “It's yours, it's always been yours, from the moment I bought it.” Then he was gone.
With his departure, the heaviness of the room dissolved to the point that I felt lightheaded. I sank down into my chair, my eyes leaving the closed door and settling on the ring that sat in front of me.
So many questions. When did he buy the ring? What did it mean to him? What was I to expect tonight? And the questions kept coming.
I reached out and picked up the ring. If I had come across it, I would have bought it, be it on the side of the road or in an expensive jewelry store. In my spirit, I knew this ring would have been mine. I twirled it in my hand not really seeing it, but seeing the man who bought it.
There was a tap at my door, and in came Jennifer carrying a package. She was oblivious to what had transpired, I wrapped my fingers around the ring and looked up at her.
“The documents just arrived,” she said, placing the package on the very same spot the ring was placed. “Is something wrong?” she asked when she looked at me.
“No, no,” I brushed aside her concerns. With a weak smile, I said, “Everything is fine. Please, hold all my calls, I've got to dig into these.”
Jennifer nodded her head, but I knew she didn't believe me. I didn't believe me. With an “Of course,” my secretary left me to review documents from Kern & Associates, but instead of opening the package, I opened my hand.
I wish I could say I gave my undivided attention to the work I eventually turned to, but I found myself thinking about Clark Sullivan and that evening.
What did he have planned?
Chapter Forty-Four
O'Brian's was a well-known restaurant, but instead of being known for romantic dining, it was known for business meetings. The restaurant was the place business people took their clients to impress them and extend the selling process. It was also the place to see and be seen. Still it was not the place a man and woman would meet for a get to know you session.
As I walked into the restaurant, I questioned why Clark chose it. Was what we had just a business deal, something to be brokered and negotiated over the steak entrée. Then again, isn't that what our relationship was? Isn't that what a marriage was? A transactional relationship based on love and respect with each party getting something out of it.
“The reservation is under Clark Sullivan,” I said in response to the hostess looking up and giving me the rote polite smile.
Without consulting her list, the hostess said, “Yes, he is already here, if you will follow me.” Scooping up a menu, the young woman walked around the podium and proceeded to glide through the dining room.
I followed with no equal grace, stopping every now and then to say hello to clients, past and current. Looking up from shaking the hand of a woman who I hoped to work with, I saw that the hostess was walking towards the back of the restaurant, towards the private dining rooms.
I caught up to her when she turned and opened a door. After a brief hesitation, I stepped through, followed by the hostess who walked to the only table in the room where Clark sat, a tumbler of amber liquor held loosely between his fingertips.
Catching sight of him, the hostess' existence seemed to dim and became a shadow as I took my seat. I barely noticed when she placed the menu in front of me, and she had to ask me twice if I wanted something to drink.
With a small smile, I replied, “A white wine, Pinot Grigio.”
We didn't speak when she left the room. I placed my left hand on the table, the silver ring reflected the dim light. Clark stared at it, then looked up at me, a question in his shadowed eyes. He didn't speak it, he instead took a sip of his liquor.
Pulling my hand away, I opened the menu with my right hand. My eyes scanned the words but my mind refused to interpret them.
“When I was young,” I didn't look up as I spoke. “I used to go to the ice cream store with my dad. I would sample the different flavors, until I found two flavors that I couldn't choose and my dad would say get a scoop of each. And I would.” I looked up.
“Are you reducing him and me to flavors of ice cream?” Clark's voice was dangerously low.
“No,” I leaned forward. “I'm saying that instead of choosing between two things I liked, I chose to have both. It's okay with ice cream, but when it comes to people it's not so much. I was wrong and I know that more than ever.”
Clark didn't respond, he took another sip of his drink.
Before I could say anything, the waiter arrived with my drink. With the efficiency of a seasoned service personnel, he took our orders and left quickly.
“Why did you come to my office?” I asked when the silence became too uncomfortable. “You could have sent the ring in the mail or with a courier or even with Mr. Weiss.”
“I wanted to see you,” he said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “I tried to forget you, and when that didn't work, I forced myself to remember you with him.”
“And still here we are,” I said, bringing the glass of wine to my lips.
“Here we are,” he repeated, looking away, his eyes glancing across the dark green walls and the artwork depicting the Irish countryside.
“All I can tell you is I was wrong and that it will never happen again,” I watched him not looking at me. “My question to you is what is it do you want from me?”
“I wanted closure,” he answered. “I wanted to find out that you and that guy are together so I could say it's over between us. I wanted you to be in a relationship so that I knew that I didn't have a chance.”
“But I'm not in a relationship, I'm very much alone,” I said dryly. “I guess it's my penance. What now?”
“I thought I would have figured it out by this evening,” Clark answered. “What I know for sure is I still want what we had.”
I tried my best to repress the smile that seemed to blossom from just behind my ribcage. I didn't say anything, I waited for him to say more.
“I miss you, Alexa,” his voice was strained. “Where do we go from here?”
“It's not up to me, Clark,” I answered. “Whatever you decide, I will accept. If you decide to walk out that door, I will accept that, but I would really want you to give us a chance.”
He began to speak, but the door swung open and in came a wait staff balancing a tray with our appetizers. The young man placed the dishes in front of us, and we barely uttered a quick thank you.
Even after he left, we didn't reach for our utensils. We studied each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking.
It was I who looked away, my eyes falling down to the green salad that sat in front of me. Why was I doing this? Why was I coming close to groveling for a relationship that lasted but a few months, practically weeks? Picking up a fork, I stabbed a cherry tomato and popped it into my mouth. I had already accepted that he was gone, why didn't I just let it go?
I looked up and made my decision,” Maybe, it's best we-”
“I want you in my life, Alexa,” Clark interrupted.
“Are... are you sure?” I placed my fork down beside the plate. “We don't have to, we can... we can just be friends.”
“I don't want to be just friends, I want more than what that offers,” he said. “Am I sure? No, but I think it's a risk worth taking.”
“What exac
tly are you risking?” I wanted to hear him say it.
“My trust,” he replied, then added, “My heart.”
“Very important commodities,” I said, meeting his gaze. Without thinking, I went into business mode and added, “I assure you, I will take care of both and will do everything in my power to make you feel secure in your decision.”
For the first time that evening, I saw a glimmer in Clark's eyes. It sparked with amusement and I felt like I had broken through his reserves. A shadow of a smile appeared at his lips, but he disguised its formation by reaching for his spoon and taking a spoonful of his bisque. As he savored his creamy soup, I tucked into my salad, knowing that he was to make the next move. Seal the deal or let it fall apart with a mutual understanding.
“So how do you propose we move forward,” he asked, scooping up another spoonful.
He was not the only one who could conceal his contentment. “Well,” I began, pushing around the leafy vegetables around my plate. “There are two options, we can pick up from where we left off or start anew.”
“Let’s proceed with the first option,” Clark said, the sharpness of his presence dulling, softening before my gaze. “We know too much about each other to pretend that we are starting from scratch.”
“That's the option I would have gone with,” I admitted. Putting down my fork, I added, “I am sorry for the way things went.”
“I know,” Clark replied. “Now that is taken care of, how's your dad?”
The change of topic was welcomed and Clark was true to his word, we were picking up from where we left off.
“What can I say,” I responded. “He's dying. He's tired most of the time, the pain comes and goes, but the worst has yet to come.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Clark offered.
Shaking my head, I said, “No, plus, I can't ask for more than you've already done.”
As we talked the heaviness from the start of our meal faded away and we fell into a familiar place. Our conversation was light and easy, and although our getting back together took on the feel of a business negotiation, the result of it was far from business like. We even ended up sharing the dessert, a creamy caramel cheesecake.
Holding up a portion of cheesecake with my fork, I said, “To a new beginning, just you and me.”
With a smile, Clark held up another portion and clinked his fork with mine, “Just you and me.”
This was not a sappy toast, this was a promise I intended to keep. There was no promise that our relationship would lead to something serious, but I could make the promise that I wouldn't do anything to compromise the odds of a happily ever after.
If only I knew my promise would be tested.
Chapter Forty-Five
It started with that night, then we saw each other whenever we could. That meant when Clark was in town and not caught up with business and when I wasn't working late. This pretty much had us seeing each other once a week which was still better than not seeing each other at all.
“How's the Challenger case going?” Mr. Weiss breezed into my office one late afternoon.
“It's had its... challenges,” I said, adding, “No pun intended. I've got a few documents to go over before I can verify that my plan of action is the right way to go.”
“And your plan of action is?” Mr. Weiss went over to the cabinet where I kept a choice selection of liquor and poured himself a brandy after inspecting the label and nodding his head in approval.
As I laid out the components of the way we were going to defend a prominent business man from his aggressive competitor, I sat back in my chair, rolling my neck to get rid of the kinks.
“Have you considered...” Mr Weiss asked about something I had thought about.
“Yes, but I want to see what these,” I motioned at the papers in front of me, “will reveal.”
“Well, it looks like you've got everything covered,” Mr. Weiss drained the last of the brandy. “I knew I could trust you with this case and with having decent liquor,” he held up the glass.
“I learned from the best, I replied, holding up an imaginary glass.
Putting down the glass, Mr. Weiss turned fully towards me, “I assume you will be working late.”
“You assume right,” I looked down at the document in front of me. “There is something in here that will lock this case in for us and I'm going to find it.”
“Well,” my boss and mentor began to walk towards the door. “As my wife used to say, don't work too late.”
“Did you really follow her advice?” I looked up to see him open the door.
With a smirk, David Weiss said, “If I followed it, this firm would not be the top firm in this town. Good night, Alexa.”
“Good night, Mr. Weiss,” I said, my attention returning to the task that would lead late into the night, I barely heard the click of the door that marked his exit.
I was half way through when I came up from the legalese, but not of my choice. The phone on my desk was loud and obnoxious, refusing to be ignored.
Picking up the phone, I mumbled, “Hello.”
“Good Evening, Ms. Marsh,” Washington said. “There is a Julian Cole down here to see you, should I send him up?” It was more out of protocol, the security guard asking, otherwise he would have sent Julian up. I was grateful for protocol.
“Uh,” I was brought squarely back to the real world, but my wits came with me. “No, Washington, I'll come down.”
“Oh, okay,” The security guard was caught off guard with my response. “I'll let him know.” Before he hung up the phone, I heard him say. “She's coming down.”
I didn't get to my feet right away, instead I sat back in my chair, looking at the wall across from where I sat, but I didn't see it. How long has it been since I had seen Julian? Three weeks? A month? Longer than that? Why now? Did he have a change of heart like Clark?
Whatever the case, I knew what I had to do. I stood up, snatching up my cell phone and the keys to the office. The elevator came quickly and as I rode to the ground floor, my resolve grew stronger.
Then I stepped out and I saw Julian. I came to a stop as memories of our time together bombarded me, hitting my resolve like sledge hammers. I remembered the smell of him, the feel of him, his smile, but also the pain and confusion when Clark confronted me.
My resolve wavered, what was once granite a million years old was now candlelight in a light breeze. Still I held on to it, I stoked it with the memories of Clark and the night I promised to do right by him. I stoked it until it became a raging fire.
With a quick inhale and exhale, I walked towards the security desk, a smile artfully painted on my face. “Why hello,” I nodded at Washington, then turned to Julian. With skills I learned from dealing with clients, I ushered him towards the far side of the lobby. “This is a surprise.”
“It's a surprise to me, too,” Julian replied, jamming his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I was walking past and I saw the light in your office was on and I ended up walking in.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, you know me, working late,” I crossed my arms.
“That's what I admired about you,” Julian smiled. “Your dedication to your work.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I replied. After a pause that felt longer than it really was, I asked, “So why are you here? I know you said you ended up walking in, but what made you ask the guard to call up?”
His eyes studied my face, they met my gaze then slid down to my lips, then fell away. Julian looked out of the glass window then said, “I missed you. Isn't that funny? I barely spent time with you but not having you in my life left an impact.”
I didn't say anything, I just listened.
He licked his lips and looked down at his scoffed sneakers, “I tried dating, but somehow it wasn't the same.” he snorted, as though remembering the women who were meant to replace me. “They weren't you, Alexa.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came. I appreciated the compliment, but there wa
s nothing I could do with it.
Looking up at through his thick lashes, Julian asked, “Are you still seeing him?” Him. Clark.
I shook my head, but when I saw the flash of hope in his dark eyes, I held up my hand. “I'm not still seeing him, but I am seeing him. We started back up a couple weeks ago.”
“Oh.” The two letter word had so much weight in it, pulling down the corners of his lips, the hope died. Julian nodded his head and sniffed before rubbing his nose with the side of his index finger. “I guess that rules us out.”
I nodded, “I'm sorry that things ended the way they did. I disrespected and hurt the both of you, but I will never do that again.” I bit my lip, “If you had come three, four weeks ago, we would have been having a different conversation. I am sorry, Julian.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I'm sorry, too.”
There was nothing else to be said, so we nodded and parted company. It was different this time, this time I watched Julian walk away and it was not based on his choice but on my decision.
I watched as Julian opened the door then stop and step back to let someone in. My blood froze as I saw who he had let in. It didn't matter what I knew as fact. I realized a long time ago that perception sometimes outweighed facts.
I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I saw when they glanced in my direction. I began to walk towards them, not knowing what I was going to say, but at least I would know what they were saying. As I got closer, Julian looked at me one last time before walking out the door.
I stopped abruptly. What did he say? Clark stared at the man who had vied for my time and attention, then he turned and looked at me. His face was expressionless as he walked over to where I stood.
Clearing my throat, I aimed at casual, “So what was that all about?”
“I would have asked you the same,” Clark said. “If he hadn't congratulated me on moving quickly. He also mentioned treating you right,” a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
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