More Lipstick Chronicles

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More Lipstick Chronicles Page 29

by Emily Carmichael


  “Is he cute?”

  “I guess.” She gathered up her papers from the meeting with Cummings.

  “I think it’s so neat you’re best man and he’s ma—” Robyn scrunched up her pert nose. “What is he?”

  “We’re both called honor attendants.” Elyssa was standing up for her brother and Cameron for his sister. Elyssa thought it was neat, too.

  “E, it’s time to go out again.” This from Alix, who wanted everybody else as happy as she was with Marc these days.

  Elyssa swallowed hard. “I’ve had a few dates.”

  “Patrick Stuffed Shirt O’Hare doesn’t count,” Dana joined in. The full-court-press approach had worked to get her over Joe.

  Smiling at the women she loved dearly, Elyssa nodded. “I know.” She winked at Robyn. “Maybe I’ll check out Cameron after all.”

  Taking their cue, the others rose to leave. Robyn gave her an impulsive hug and said, “Have fun, girl.”

  As Elyssa crossed to her computer to check her mail once more before she flew to New York, she smiled to herself. She would have fun. These days Elyssa was taking care of herself. Physically she was working out almost every day. Mentally, she was ready to sell Allheart. Emotionally—well, she hadn’t stopped thinking about Joe, but she no longer cried over losing him, and admitted her part in ruining their relationship. Yes, she was doing just fine.

  Which was why she considered deleting the Allheart greeting card from her computer when it appeared in her incoming mail. Seeing it was like getting zapped with an electric shock. Only one man ever sent her one of her own candy.

  She stared at the screen. She thought long and hard before opening it. Finally she clicked on the familiar icon.

  She couldn’t help grinning. It was from their successful Change series. Along with the card you could send a big ceramic container—with the quote “Change is good for the soul,” painted on it, chocked full of change-related treasures like aspirin, a book of proverbs, a plant symbolizing growth and several other goodies. Parker had outdone himself on that collection.

  Elyssa concentrated on the card. Dana’s text read, “Embrace the future. Learn from the past. Live. Love. Enjoy.”

  Alix’s design showed an abstract drawing of a woman, or a man if you wanted, on top of a big mountain with a beautiful sunset behind her.

  Inside, the sender could leave his own message. Joe had written, “On the last day of due diligence, know that you made the right choice. Good luck in the coming weeks. I’m proud of you, babe.”

  But it was his signature, his bold masculine scrawl, that almost undid her. Sometimes, she missed him so much she felt physical pain.

  But she had made the right decision. About him. And about selling Allheart. They expected an offer from Red Door by the end of the month. If it was acceptable, she’d sell. It was time to go on with her life. Though she hadn’t told anyone but her brother, she was seriously considering moving to New York and planned to stay on after Elliot’s wedding to examine her options. She knew Carole was checking out other firms, Alix and Marc planned to open their own ad agency, Dana would travel and Robyn, well, that one was always up in the air.

  And Joe would continue to wheel and deal for the hottest businesses in DC.

  At this point in her life, it seemed like maybe it was best to leave the city where it had all happened. She’d had contact with him during the sale process; they’d both been prepared and were excruciatingly polite to each other. But occasionally she bumped into him in social circumstances and that had been hard—like at the National Gallery reception for Martin, or a chance encounter at the Kennedy Center. She’d scrutinize him and his date—it was never Bethany—when he wasn’t looking. And he’d check out her escort—who was never Parker.

  For Elyssa, spending time with Parker was too difficult, resurrected too many memories of all the mistakes she’d made.

  Reaching out, she traced Joe’s name on the screen. It was just so sad. Too late, she realized how much she did love him, how she would have been deliriously happy committed to him, even married to him. But they’d both blown it. And irreparable damage had been done. However, instead of wallowing in what she had lost, she dropped her hand, and hit the delete button.

  She grabbed her purse out of the drawer—it was a sleek beaded Judith Leiber number she had treated herself to after deciding to sell Allheart—and headed out of her office.

  She didn’t look back.

  Joe stood in the back of the St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Brooklyn, New York, and stared at the beauty on the altar. The bride was lovely, too, in an old-fashioned cream-colored lace gown and netted veil over her face. But he only had eyes for Elyssa.

  Mary had chosen a simple light pink, scoop-neck lacy dress for the female honor attendant. Though it was so unlike anything Elyssa would pick for herself, she looked young and beautiful in it. With her hair tumbling down over her bare shoulders and—he checked carefully—three-inch matching heels, Elyssa Wentworth was utterly gorgeous. And he’d lost that beautiful package because of his stupidity and dumb male pride. His heart lurched in his chest.

  It’s your fault, you jerk. You deserve to be alone.

  Of course he did. In an effort to possess her, he’d behaved abominably that last night in her living room. He could barely think about what he’d done. She’d been right to kick him out. Right to make it clear she was finished with him.

  Was there anything worse than watching the woman you loved—the strong, vibrant woman who commanded a multimillion dollar company without losing a wink of sleep—sob in your arms? He’d hurt her unforgivably. And the visit from her brother the next day confirmed it.

  Elliot had shown up at Joe’s apartment early Saturday. He’d come straight from the airport, hadn’t seen his sister yet. But he knew something had happened the night before—apparently he’d talked to her but was unaware of the details—and he’d flown down that morning. Joe had been up all night, alternately berating himself for his behavior, and forcing himself to face facts. By the time her brother arrived, Joe was far down the path of self-flagellation.

  “You son of a bitch,” Elliot had said when Joe answered the door. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He’d grabbed Joe’s shirt. “I want to know, now.”

  Though Elliot was as tall as Joe, Joe had bulk and weight on the guy and could easily have shrugged him off. But he’d invited Elliot in.

  Over strong coffee, Joe had talked for hours. “It was a culmination of things. She was hiding from commitment to me for months before Quest came into the picture. If she hadn’t been so on the fence about us, I might have been able to handle better what happened with Quest.”

  “Elyssa needed time, Joe. You should have been patient with her. She’s always been so self-sufficient. I advised you to tell her you wanted to marry her, but not to badger her with it.”

  “I blew it. I blew the whole thing.”

  “You know she didn’t sleep with Parker.”

  “I know she didn’t.” It took all the strength he had to meet Elliot’s eyes. “But I don’t really know if she would have if I hadn’t interrupted. That’s what’s driving me crazy.”

  “She says she wouldn’t have. Isn’t that enough for you?”

  “No. And I couldn’t deal with the uncertainty.”

  “Life’s full of uncertainty. You should have believed in her, in your relationship.”

  “I might have but I let my own insecurity about her get in the way. I was as vulnerable to her as she was to me. She turned my life upside down, too, Elliot. When she talked about selling Allheart, I completely lost it. I knew the sale of the company meant she’d be out of my life for good.” He shook his head. “Isn’t it ironic how we accomplish exactly what we don’t want by trying our hardest to avoid it?”

  Joe’s heart pained him as he watched the priest bless Elliot and Mary. Elyssa looked so calm and serene up there. For a minute, Joe let himself picture Elyssa and him in the place of the bride and groom. He’d be
en honest in what he said to Elliot. He’d wanted her to belong to him so badly he’d made every mistake in the book, taken every wrong turn in trying to bind her to him.

  But he wouldn’t make any more mistakes. He wasn’t staying for the reception. He knew it would hurt her to see him. And it would kill him to watch her avoid him all day. So he’d leave. Go back to Washington and move on.

  Alone.

  He sidled out of the pew and headed out of the church.

  Though it was difficult returning to his parents’ cabin where he’d spent time with Elyssa, Joe knew he needed Lance Monteigne’s sober influence in his life. With that in mind, he agreed to spend the week before Labor Day up in the Blue Ridge Mountains with his father. He figured some rest, some fishing and a good dose of his father would improve his mood.

  “What are you thinking, son?” Lance asked as they lounged out on the deck watching a hot ball of pink and red settle into the horizon. Crickets chirped noisily and Joe could smell the rich scents of the outdoors.

  He cradled a glass of light red wine in his hand. “How I needed this time away with you.” He glanced over at the man who’d always been there for him.

  “You’re exhausted, Joe. And you look . . . pale.” His father’s brow knitted. “When was your last physical?”

  “Hey, it’s usually Mom who rags on me about that.”

  Lance didn’t laugh. “When?”

  “A little over a year ago.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Dad, I’m not sick.”

  “This has been a tough time for you.”

  Joe stood and wandered to the porch railing. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about this.”

  “We weren’t. But I heard you prowling last night. And you seem worse today than you did on Thursday when we got here. More depressed.”

  In the shadows, Joe could just make out a little squirrel scampering up a tree. “I dreamed about her last night. This week we were supposed to go to the shore with the Allheart crew.” He shook his head.

  Lance cleared his throat. Up until now, his father had refrained from asking specific questions about Elyssa. “Did she go anyway?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe she brought Quest and kept it an eightsome.”

  “Do you honestly think so?”

  “Honestly, no. I’d guess she’s still as raw over our breakup as I am. I can’t imagine her with somebody else so soon.” He smiled over his shoulder at his dad. “Stupid, isn’t it? How I can be so sure of the exact thing that my not believing drove us apart.”

  “Hindsight’s always twenty-twenty.”

  Talk of Elyssa really did pain Joe. He pressed his hand to his chest, where he felt it again. Maybe he should schedule another physical. But what would the doctor say? It’s a broken heart, Mr. Monteigne. Give it time to heal. Maybe when Elyssa left town—Elliot said she was considering a move to New York—he’d be able to make the black hole inside him disappear.

  “What is it, Joe?”

  “Indigestion, I think. Must be that bass you caught. I knew he looked a little tough.”

  His father didn’t say anything.

  “I’d rather not discuss her,” Joe said.

  They moved on to baseball and politics and stayed outside until it was time to go to bed. Joe dreaded turning in. He fell asleep all right, but more often than not, woke up in the early hours unable to settle back down. His father was right; he was exhausted. Maybe he needed a sleeping pill.

  He knew he needed a sleeping pill five hours later when he awoke with a start. He’d dreamed someone had shot him through the heart. Sitting up in bed, he clutched the left side of his chest.

  It was a few minutes before he realized that the pain in his chest wasn’t leaving, that he was short of breath and sweating profusely.

  In twenty minutes, he was on his way to Memorial Hospital, his father calm and cool in the driver’s seat of Joe’s Mercedes.

  “I think we’re overreacting, Dad.”

  “Probably.” Lance’s nonchalant tone didn’t fool Joe. His dad was scared. “But you can’t ignore chest pains. Just close your eyes and relax.”

  Doing so, Joe smiled. “You used to say that to me when I was a kid and couldn’t get to sleep.”

  “I know.”

  Apparently the hospital staff also felt you couldn’t mess with chest pains. Joe had never seen medical personnel move so fast. He was settled into a wheelchair in the ER waiting room, his blood pressure taken—it was high—and his father was giving the nurse admittance information when Joe was whisked into a treatment room. Within ten minutes, by the time his dad joined him, Joe had had an EKG and they’d drawn blood to test for the enzyme released during a heart attack.

  On the bed, exhausted now, he said to his father, “A heart attack? There wasn’t that much pain. And my arm didn’t get numb.”

  “Doesn’t need to be either.” Lance’s voice was strained and his face pale. “But don’t jump the gun. Let’s see what the tests show.”

  Joe rolled his eyes when the doctor entered. She looked too young to be in charge of anything. “I’m Dr. Ward. I’ve just read your EKG. It’s . . . odd.”

  Lance gripped the edge of the bed. “Odd?”

  “Yes, the rhythms are highly irregular.”

  “I have an irregular EKG,” Joe said smoothly. “The first time it showed up, the doctors panicked and sent me for a stress test. I passed with flying colors.”

  She smiled. “Good. What doctor has the baseline results?”

  Joe gave the name of his physician.

  Making notes on his chart, she said, “It’s a holiday weekend so we might not be able to get through to the office.”

  “It can wait until Tuesday, can’t it?”

  She shook her head. “No, Mr. Monteigne, it can’t.” She turned to his father. “We’re going to keep him here overnight and draw blood every six hours. The enzyme can appear at any time in the next twenty-four hours. In addition, we’ll monitor his heart. I’ve scheduled an echo stress test tomorrow morning at nine.” She described the sophisticated procedure where he would hit the treadmill while a sonogram would take pictures of his heart. “If all that checks out, and the EKG information comes in, he can go home.”

  “Isn’t this extreme?” Joe asked irritably.

  When she faced him, she no longer looked young. “No. It’s very possible you did indeed have a heart attack.”

  “You’re up early.”

  Sipping hazelnut coffee, Elyssa turned to find Carole standing behind her on the deck, holding a mug, dressed in silky taupe pajamas and a robe.

  “I wanted to catch one last sunrise.” Elyssa peered out over the water. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Carole dropped down into the lounge chair beside her and quietly drank her coffee. Finally she said, “You sure you have to go back to DC tonight?”

  Elyssa grinned. “You know very well I don’t have to. None of us ever has to do anything we don’t want to again.”

  The offer from Red Door had come in at an ideal price. Patrick had warned it would be lowered, after the buyer unearthed every conceivable problem with advertisers, suppliers and customers. But her lawyer had confidence that the final price would be more than acceptable.

  The only downside of their offer was that they insisted, after this brief vacation, that Elyssa stay on for six months to help with the transition. She wasn’t happy about it. She didn’t want to watch some other firm take over her baby, and she really wanted to put the whole experience—especially Joe—behind her. But if she wanted to sell, she would have to agree to stay on.

  “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “It hasn’t gotten any easier?”

  “In some ways it has.” She looked back at the sprawling beach house they’d rented. “Being here, though . . .” She shook her head. “He was supposed to come with us. It’s why I only came up for the weekend.”

  Carole bit her lip, then
sipped her coffee again. “Elyssa, you may hit me for saying this, but I’ve just got a feeling maybe you should give him another chance.”

  “Yeah, I ought to hit you.” Problem was, Elyssa didn’t really agree with that sentiment. Sure, she and Joe couldn’t get along. Their personalities were too strong. They demanded too much from each other. But he was a good man. Loving. Kind. Smart. Funny. And so sexy it made her ache just thinking about his snapping blue eyes, wide shoulders and square-cut jaw. They just weren’t meant for each other.

  Elyssa swallowed hard, missing Joe more than she thought possible. And for the first time, she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t try again. If she should rush back to DC, find Joe and demand they give their relationship a second chance.

  As the waves of the Atlantic crashed against the shore, the terror of that thought eclipsed the intense pain in her chest. God, she wanted him back in her life.

  When Joe’s Mercedes pulled into the huge circular driveway, he immediately spied Robyn peering out at him from the picture window.

  Joe bit back a smile. Everything seemed so right on this sunny September afternoon. It was good to be alive. So he didn’t hedge when she answered the door and demanded to know what he was doing there.

  “I came to see Elyssa. To tell her I’ve been wrong—and some other things that are none of your business.” That drew a scowl from Robyn.

  “You couldn’t make it work before, what makes you think you can now?” She spoke with all the authority of those chatty women’s magazines she was always reading.

  It took Joe five minutes to convince her. Finally, disgusted with him, and disgusted with herself, she gave up. “She’s down at the beach.”

  The sight he came upon as he approached the beach made him smile. Three women were stretched out on a blanket. Sun glistened off Carole’s dark hair, kissed the freckles on Dana’s nose and highlighted the beautiful brown of Alix’s skin. They were talking and sipping from bottles of water as they pointed toward the ocean.

  There Elyssa, like Aphrodite, rose from the sea, headed toward the beach. She emerged from the water by degrees, wearing a hot pink bikini, which barely covered her. He drank in the sight, parched for just a taste of this woman he loved. As she drew closer, he could see her wet hair starting to curl around her face and shoulders as it began to dry in the sun. She’d gained back the weight she had lost and she looked healthy.

 

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