by Lynne, Donya
Her heart fell.
It was as she feared. Carol was still there. Still getting in the way. Still standing between them. How could she not be when Mark couldn’t even let go of jewelry that had been meant for her. Hadn’t he said in Chicago it was time he got rid of it. He had assured her he would. And yet, here it was, still among his most personal possessions.
She blinked back tears. He was still holding on to his past. Still unable to break free.
But there was something else in the box. Something that looked completely out of place amid thousands of dollars’ worth of jewelry.
A folded sheet of notepaper.
Wiping her eyes, she took out the piece of paper and unfolded it, frowning when she saw it was the list he’d made in Saint Lucia. What was this doing here?
Her eyes scanned down the bullet points of things he’d feared telling her. The drugs. The crap he’d done with Nina. The sexual role-play, exhibitionism, anal play . . .
Wait.
The last item.
I want to dance again.
The line of print was crossed out, but still, he’d written it down. Why?
“What?” she murmured aloud, crinkling her brow and shaking her head.
What the hell did he mean by wanting to dance again? They had danced. In fact, they had danced at the benefit last weekend.
Then, like a bucket of ice water being tossed in her face, it dawned on her. He wanted to dance-dance. Professional-style dancing. The way he had with Carol. In a way Karma wasn’t capable of. She couldn’t waltz or foxtrot or cha-cha. That wasn’t in her wheelhouse.
No wonder he had crossed that item off his list. Because he knew she could never fill Carol’s shoes and dance the way he wanted to dance.
But hell, just because she would never be an international dance champion like Carol didn’t mean she couldn’t take lessons and become proficient enough to indulge Mark’s wishes. Hell, Mark could teach her himself. She knew from what he’d told her about his dancing past that he could.
Or maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe he wanted a level of dancing that was too atmospheric for her to achieve. Or maybe he just didn’t think she could learn.
All right, sure, she would never measure up to Carol when it came to dancing, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t dance at all. Look at the celebrities on those reality TV dance shows. Those celebrities weren’t dancers, and yet they learned how to turn two left feet into some fancy moves after a few lessons. So could she if Mark would just give her a little credit.
Icy chills erected goosebumps down both arms as she glared at the crossed-off item on his list, then at the wedding bands and necklace.
Was this why he had yet to set a wedding date? Because he wanted their first dance as husband and wife to be a performance and not just a regular ol’ dance? Or was it because, as she’d feared, he was still hung up on Carol? Maybe it was both.
Such thoughts were irrational, but screw rational. She was exhausted, emotionally drained, and had just found Mark’s ex-fiancée’s engagement ring and bridal gift among his things, along with a curt reminder of just how fabulous Carol had been.
And she was beautiful, too. Gorgeous blond hair, legs from here to there, svelte body. She recalled the way Mark had looked at Carol after running into her—literally—last weekend.
Maybe that was why Mark felt so ashamed of the way he’d fucked her afterward. Like he’d had something to prove. Maybe that’s why his eyes had been closed. Because he’d been seeing Carol. In his mind, he’d been fucking Carol, and Karma had just been the vessel to get him there.
With angry, sad tears burning her eyes, and humiliation tying her stomach in tight knots, she got dressed then grabbed her phone from the nightstand.
After two rings, Mark’s cell sent her to voicemail, which meant he’d seen she was calling and had forwarded her. He didn’t want to talk to her.
Well, she wanted to talk to him, and it was high time they talked, so she dialed his office number.
“Mark’s office, this is Kit.”
Huh? Why was Kit answering his phone? “Is Mark available?”
“Is this Carol?”
Double huh? Even Kit knew about Carol? Just how far removed from Mark’s life had she become in the last week? “No, this is Karma.”
“Oh, hi, Karma. Sorry about that. Mark’s on a conference call and told me that someone important named Carol was supposed to call and to interrupt him when she did. I thought you were her. You sound different than you normally do. Do you have a cold?”
“Uh, no.” But she suddenly felt sick.
“Oh, okay. Do you want me to have Mark call you back when his conference call ends?”
Her phone beeped with a text message.
“Just tell him . . . on second thought, no thanks.” She hung up and read her text. It was from Mark.
I’m on a conference call. Will call you back when I’m done.
So, he wanted to be interrupted when Carol called, but her call could wait? Nice to see how she rated.
She wasn’t going to take that. She was his fiancée, and her patience had run out. They needed to talk, and they needed to talk now.
She grabbed the jewelry and the list from Mark’s dresser, shoved them into her purse, stuffed her feet in a pair of tennis shoes, locked up the house, and drove to Solar.
Lisa was at the reception desk talking to Nancy.
“Hi, Karma,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Seeing if I can get a little face time with my fiancé.” She marched past. “If he can work me into his schedule.”
“Whoa, okay.” Lisa caught up to her at the stairs. “What’s this about?”
“It’s about how I’m done sitting quietly by while Mark continues to hold a flame for Carol.”
“What? Wait a minute. Who says he’s holding a flame for Carol.”
They were at the top of the stairs, rounding the corner where her old desk—now Kit’s—came into view at the end of the hall.
“He’ll take her call and not mine,” Karma said. “What does that tell you?”
“Karma, wait a minute. I think you’re jumping to conclusions. Maybe we should go down to my office and talk. Get you calmed down.”
“Oh, I’m calm, Lisa. I’m perfectly calm.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Karma, you are not calm.”
She stopped and spun on Lisa. “You know what, you’re right. I’m not. But I’m not going to sit around waiting, anymore. He needs to make a decision, and he needs to make it now.”
She was done. She had reached her boiling point. There was only so much she could take before she exploded, and she’d been holding all her worry, frustration, and heartache in for months. Like an overfilled balloon, there was only so much tensile strength she could impose on herself until she popped and blasted around the room like a manic torpedo without missile lock.
“A decision about what?”
“Everything. Everything, Lisa.” She started for Mark’s office again.
Kit popped out of her chair. “Karma? Hi. Is everything . . . ? Wait! He’s still on his call . . .”
She grabbed the door handle, giving the perfectly coiffed Kit an over-the-shoulder glance. “I don’t care. I’m his fiancée. And I’m pulling rank.” With that, she played the entitlement card afforded to significant others—which she had never played before—and pushed open Mark’s door, leaving Kit and Lisa staring after her like she had just barged in on the President of the United States.
Mark looked up from his desk. “Karma?” He sat upright and glanced at his phone. “Excuse me, guys, but I need to hop off. Something important just came up.”
Well, how about that? She was something important. She rated, after all.
He disconnected, stood, and came around the desk, worry etched on his face. “Why are you here? Are you okay? Is anything wrong?”
What a loaded question.
If not for the hell she’d been through since last Saturday n
ight—and especially for the last hour—his concern would have warmed her heart. Unfortunately, she was in no mood for placation.
She crossed her arms and raised her chin. “I want to set a date.”
“What?” His eyebrows scrunched together. “You came all the way down here and pulled me off a business call to set a date?”
Undeterred, she straightened her back and said, “If you really want to marry me then let’s set a date, Mark.”
“I thought we decided—”
“No, you decided!” She jabbed her finger toward him. “You decided for both of us, and, like an idiot, I went along with you!”
He quickly shut his door so the entire office didn’t hear her outburst. “Karma, what’s wrong? Obviously, this is about something other than our wedding.” He reached for her arm as if to guide her to a chair, but she flung off his hand.
“Do not touch me right now.” Hadn’t he said the same words to her last weekend? Well, now it was his turn to keep his distance.
He held up his hands and took a step back. “Okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Why can’t you set a date, Mark?” She crossed her arms. “Why can’t you sit down with me and help me decide when we’ll get married?”
He sighed, but not from impatience. More from frustration. Maybe even guilt. “I thought we had agreed to wait. We’ve both been busy . . . with the house, with—”
“Bullshit.” She stepped back and held up her hand. “It doesn’t take that long to pick a date, Mark. So quit making excuses.”
“I’m not making excuses.”
Right. Sure.
“Really?” She shook her head and paced to the window. “Why don’t you just be honest with me. You don’t want to marry me, do you? You want Carol. You still want Carol.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
She gestured to his phone. “I called you, and you sent me to voicemail. So I called your office line. Imagine my surprise when Kit asked me if I was Carol. Then I find out that you told her that if Carol calls to interrupt you. So . . . Carol’s important enough to take her call. But when I need you . . .” She couldn’t keep her voice from rising. “When I fucking need you”—she glared at him, her whole body trembling as she planted her palm on her chest—“because I’m losing my fucking mind over why you won’t talk to me, I get tossed into voicemail.” Tears erupted in her eyes, and she blinked several times, fighting the burn as her chin and bottom lip quivered.
He was looking at her like she was Dr. David Banner about to mutate into the Incredible Hulk. “Karma . . .”
She cleared her throat and brushed her hands over her face, pulling herself together as best she could. “No, no. I’m fine. We’re here now. Let’s do this.” She pulled out her phone and brought up the calendar. “Let’s set a date, Mark. You want to marry me soooo badly, right? So let’s go. What works for you? Or maybe I should get with Kit, since she’s got a better handle on your life right now than I do. I mean, she knows about Carol. I’m just the ignorant fool left wandering around like an idiot.”
“Karma, please . . .”
“It’s okay. We’re going to set that date now, right? So, everything should be fine, right?” She flipped through the months. “How about September? That gives us four solid months to prepare.”
He remained rooted across the room, motionless, expression flat.
“September doesn’t work?” She flipped through a few more months. “How about November or December? No, no . . . too many holidays. Too many excuses.” She shot him a nasty glare. “But January could work. It’s winter, so work will be slow. Oh wait.” She snapped her fingers. “There might be a blizzard. We’d better keep looking, because we simply can’t set a date on the off chance a blizzard will interfere, can we?”
“Karma . . .”
She ignored him as her tears began to fall again. “No . . . no. I can fix this, Mark. I can find the perfect date, because I know your schedule is so extremely tight and you can’t possibly work me in without a little help.”
“Karma . . .” He spoke more loudly, but she kept on, flipping to February.
“Can’t do February. There’s still the threat of a blizzard. And Valentine’s Day would just make our wedding pale in comparison.” She choked back a sob. The volcano was about to explode. “March. Hmmm. No, things start to ramp up at work in March. Same with April. You can’t possibly marry me in spring, because work comes first, right? July is out. Still too busy at work. And then we’re back to autumn.” Her shoulders momentarily slumped before she raised her head and screamed, “A whole fucking year and a half from now!” before breaking down in uncontrollable sobs.
The days of silence, the sleepless nights, the inability to eat, and all her old insecurities had culminated into what could only be described as a Texas-sized nervous and emotional breakdown.
In a flash of movement, Mark rushed toward her, took her phone, tossed it on his desk, and tried to pull her into his arms.
“NO!” She pushed him away. “Give me a date, Mark! Give me a goddamn date when you want to marry me!”
“Karma, let’s discuss this when you’re not so upset.”
She stopped crying long enough to give him a sarcastic laugh. “So now we can’t set a date because I’m upset, like it’s my fault?” He tried to reply, but she didn’t let him. “I’m upset because we haven’t set a goddamn date, Mark! Do you get that?” It was just one of the reasons why she was upset, but it was close to the top of the list.
He tried to take her hands, but she pulled away, flinging herself toward the window.
“Karma, you’re angry. And I understand why. Really, I do. I wanted to talk to you about this tonight, okay? Can’t we just wait and talk about this tonight? At home? This isn’t the right time—”
She whirled on him. “I’m beginning to think it’s never going to be the right time!” She shook her head and swiped the tears off her face as he stared at her in stunned silence. “I’ve been waiting for months for you to get off your ass, Mark. I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space. I’ve been supportive and put my trust in you that you had my best interests at heart.”
“I do.”
She held up her hand, cutting him off. “No, Mark. You don’t get to do that to me.”
“Do what?”
“Lie to me.”
“I’m not lying!”
She shook her head. “Yes, you are. You’re still hung up on Carol.”
Mark tensed and took a step back, his face scrunched as if he were in pain.
“See.” She gestured toward him. “That. The way you just reacted when I said her name. She’s still in there.” She tapped her forehead. “She’s right there in the front of your mind all the time. It’s like there’s three of us in this relationship. You, me, and Carol. And I’m getting the short end of the stick.”
“You’re not getting the short end of the stick.” He shook his head and motioned as if he wanted to pull her into his arms then thought better of it and stayed where he was.
“The hell I’m not. For months, I’ve felt her just sitting there. Between us. Competing with me for your attention!” She reached into her purse and pulled out the jewelry and the sheet of crumpled notepaper. “And then I found this today.” She tossed the rings and necklace on his desk then smoothed the sheet of paper as best she could as she read. “I want to dance again.”
She wadded up the paper and threw it at him. “I’ll admit that it took me a minute to understand what you meant. I was like, we dance. We’ve danced plenty of times. And then the light went on. You want to dance all those dances you danced with Carol.” She was blowing up like a temperamental teenager, but she was beyond giving a fuck. Her patience had run out. She was completely tapped. “Carol, with her long legs and her perfect body and her ability to captivate a room with one high kick. She’s who you want. She’s the one you want to dance with. She’s the one you were fucking last Saturday night. Not me.”
He sh
ook his head, mouth gaping as if he wanted to say something, but she didn’t give him time to speak before continuing.
“That’s why you felt so awful about it, isn’t it? Because you wanted it to be Carol you were in bed with, not me. I was just a conduit. My body was just a vessel for you so you could fuck Carol one more time.”
“Karma, no. That’s not—”
“No, Mark. Just stop.” She was sobbing now. Tears soaked her cheeks and dripped from her nose. She sniffled and wiped her face. “You’ve had your chance. Now it’s my turn.” Some of her steam was gone, having already been expended. “I can’t compete with Carol, so if she’s who you really want, I’m out.”
“I don’t want Carol.”
She sighed and stared down at her engagement ring. “I want to believe you, Mark, but . . .” She twisted the ring off her finger. “Ever since Christmas, you’ve been telling me you’re not good enough for me. Every time something from your past popped up, you tried to tell me that I deserved better. And I kept telling you that you are good enough. That you need to let me decide what I want.” She paused. “It’s like you’ve always expected I would walk away, so you were testing me. Seeking validation but all the while pushing me away.” She held out the ring. “I love you, Mark, but I can’t keep validating you if won’t believe me. And I can’t keep living like this when Carol is always in the way. I can’t be your conduit to the past, anymore. I want to be your future, not a reminder of what you once had.”
“Karma, please . . .” His voice broke, and he refused to take the ring.
She breathed a shaky sigh and set her engagement ring on his desk, next to his keyboard, and retrieved her phone. “You need to keep this ring until you’re really ready, Mark. Until you’ve dealt with whatever hold Carol has over you and you’re ready to move forward with me.” She started for the door.
His arm shot out and he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her to him.
She gasped, and he swallowed the sound as his mouth crashed down over hers.
And damn her traitorous body for reacting, flaming to life and reaching for his. Her lips meshed perfectly with his, as hungry for him as he seemed to be for her. She drank him in, clutching his shirt, holding on not just with her body but with her heart and soul, as well.