Turbulence

by E. J. Noyes

  “Of course,” I whispered. “But I have to leave early tomorrow, I’ve got so much work.”

  “That’s okay. Just…stay.”

  “I will.” Leaning in to kiss her, movement at the edge of the room caught my eye. I nudged her knee, jerking my chin in the direction of the stairs.

  Audrey bent her head backward to see what I was trying to indicate. “Mom! What are you doing?” She carefully tipped me from her lap to the couch and rushed toward the figure at the base of the stairs. I stood up, uncertain as to what I should do.

  Audrey’s mom sighed, then dissolved into a short coughing fit. “I heard you talking to someone.” She waved Audrey aside and kept walking toward me.

  I stepped forward, smiling uncertainly. Audrey gestured for me to come closer. “Mom, this is my girlfriend, Isabelle Rhodes. Iz, this is my mom, Marietta.”

  In the flesh the resemblance between them was even more striking and I could see where Audrey got those beautiful cheekbones and wide, dark eyes. They had the same hair, thick and dark with just a touch of wave, though Marietta’s was gray at the temples.

  Audrey’s mom lifted her chin to appraise me. “So, you’re the girlfriend,” she said, the faintest trace of Italian accent kissing her words.

  “Yes, ma’am I am. It’s a great pleasure to meet you. I’m terribly sorry to drop in like this.”

  Though she was gaunt, pale and obviously still weak, she came right up to me and enfolded me in a hug. “I’m glad you came, my Audrey has been miserable without you. You are very brave.” She felt like a bag of sticks and my return hug was gentle.

  Audrey stepped in. “Mom, come on. I think you should go back to bed.”

  Marietta scoffed, “Stop fussing over me.” She squeezed my hands tight then let them go and shuffled toward the kitchen. “Would you like coffee, Isabelle?”

  I brushed fresh tears from my eyes with the edges of my thumbs. I was going to need an electrolyte drink with all the crying I’d been doing. “Coffee would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  Audrey rushed to catch up, like she was afraid to leave me with her mama. “I’ll make it.”

  “No, I want real coffee.” Marietta waved Audrey aside and ushered me onto a chair at the kitchen table. I sat and she busied herself with a stovetop espresso maker. “I’ve been in America almost forty years and I still cannot stand your filter coffee,” she informed me airily.

  The scent of coffee brewing soon filled the small kitchen as Marietta set out a plate of what looked like homemade biscotti. “Audrey made these. When she wants to be, she is very good at baking.”

  The small, comfortable kitchen felt oddly familiar and it took me a moment to realize that the feeling was the same one I had when I went back to Mama’s. Warmth, comfort, love. Marietta brushed the back of her fingers along my cheek. “You’re a lot prettier than your pictures on the Internet.”

  I shot a quick glance at Audrey, who wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding her smirk. I nodded amicably. “Well, thank you very much. It’s kind of you to say that.”

  Marietta sat opposite Audrey and me, then poured the coffee. “You’re also my daughter’s boss.”

  “Yes, technically I am.” I added sugar and sipped my espresso. Hot damn, it was good.

  Marietta spoke like her daughter wasn’t in the room. “She says you are a good boss.”

  “I, uh, I try to be.”

  “Do you let her be the boss sometimes too?”

  Beside me, Audrey cringed. “Mom. Please stop. Before you embarrass me further. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

  “I’m not tired, and I have been in bed for so long already.” Marietta shrugged unapologetically then turned back to me. “For relationships to work, there must be balance. If Isabelle is the boss for work then you must be allowed to be in charge other times.” She accented my name beautifully.

  A warm tingle ran up my spine. “I agree.” I patted Audrey’s forearm, telling her silently that all was okay. Apparently all mothers were the same when it came to interrogation of new partners and sharing of information about their children. Even if they were recovering from illness.

  Marietta laughed, the sound almost identical to Audrey’s. “Good. Then you are as sensible as I’d hoped you would be. Audrey has already told me some things about you, but I would like to know more.” She topped up my coffee and began a fresh batch.

  “What would you like to know?” I reached for a cookie.

  “Do you have siblings?”

  “No, it’s just me.”

  “Where do your parents live?”

  “My mama lives in South Carolina.” I set the cookie, now halved, on my side plate. “I’m not sure where my daddy is. He left when I was young.”

  Marietta tsk’d. “A shame.”

  Audrey spoke quietly, “Just tell her to mind her own business, honey.” She glanced at her mother and raised her voice to regular volume. “She might even listen.”

  Marietta waved her finger teasingly. “You complain too much, amore mio.”

  I bumped Audrey with my shoulder. “It’s fine. Stop fussing.” I turned my attention to Marietta. “Tell me about the photograph I saw in the den, the signed one of Audrey Hepburn?”

  “Ah yes. It is not real. A print of her autograph, but it doesn’t matter. My best Audrey is right here with me.”

  I reached for Audrey’s hand under the table. “I agree.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It was still dark when I slipped reluctantly out of Audrey’s warm embrace, dressed and kissed her goodbye. Clutching my coat sleepily, she’d murmured something indistinct, and then fallen right back to sleep. It was almost like the beginning when we were sneaking out in the early hours, pretending it was what we wanted.

  I’d deliberately turned my phone to Do Not Disturb while with her, and when I came back on the grid, the poor thing almost began smoking with all the alerts and messages from clients. And Mama. As Schwartz flew me home, I sorted through the messages ready for my attention when I would get to the office in a few hours.

  I arrived back in the city just after sunrise and after a quick stop for a shower and something to eat, it was back to the office. I worked through contracts, and familiarizing myself with my new clients. Most of the inherited portfolios would be easy to turn around. But more than once I found myself shouting to the empty office, “What the fuck, Mark?”

  By twelve thirty, I was about to throw myself on the floor like a toddler. I turned my phone to silent, hoping for half an hour of respite, and slipped out of the office for a change of scenery and some food. Tugging my collar up around my ears against the wind, I ducked across the street, raising an apologetic hand to the bike I’d cut off. As I rushed along the sidewalk, I decided it was definitely a greasy burger and fries kind of day.

  Waiting for my order, I ignored the missed calls and voice mail notifications, and opened various news sites. There was nothing about Mark leaving yet, so clearly Steph’s source didn’t have too much influence. The relief would be short-lived because after the press statement was released tomorrow, the shit would hit the fan.

  Back at my desk, I picked at my lunch and began to draft what I would say to my staff at the meeting tomorrow. I managed a half-page that didn’t make much sense and felt a whole lot like a I’m sorry, please like me monologue. I’d ad-libbed enough speeches in my time and hoped that I could do the same for what might be the speech that kept my company afloat.

  Rolling my shoulders to ease some of the tension, I deleted my last line and rewrote it. Three times. Then I gave up, made some dot points and decided that was good enough. My phone rang right as I finished. I snatched it up without looking. “Isabelle Rhodes.”

  “Hey.” Audrey sounded relieved. “Is this a bad time?”

  “It’s never a bad time when you call, darling.” I made a pointed effort to set my pen down and get up from my desk.

  She laughed softly. “I just wanted to see how you were doing, and to let you know I mis
s you and that my mom hasn’t shut up about you.”

  The tension gripping my shoulders eased. “I miss you too. And should I be worried?”

  “About her planning for the next time you visit? Yes.”

  I blew a raspberry. “That’s not worry material. When she starts including Mama, then I’ll worry.”

  “Don’t tempt her,” Audrey muttered. “Look, I know you’re busy as heck, Iz. I just wanted to let you know I’m still not sure exactly what time I’ll be back, but I’ll see you at the meeting, or whenever you can find some time.”

  “Oh. Okay then, thanks. Fly safe?”

  “Always,” she murmured. “Love you.”

  “I love you too.” There was a long pause and then I heard her disconnect. I stood motionless for a time, staring out into the fading light, and had a moment of perfect clarity and an almost unshakeable conviction.

  I could balance everything. I would always make time for her. The extra work didn’t matter and my relationship with her wasn’t going to be a second rate event in my life. There were a few things in my life I could cut—attendance at committee meetings and non-essential functions, a workout here and there. But I wouldn’t compromise with Audrey.

  Finally at home and in bed I turned my phone off. Closing my eyes, I tried to reason with myself. Sleep. Now. Come on. Please. If you just stop thinking, you’ll…fall…asleep…

  Something touched my cheek. Bug. Fucking bug. I dragged my eyes open and jerked away. No bug. Audrey. She stood beside my bed, backlit by the muted light showing through the hastily closed blinds.

  “You’re back,” I croaked.

  “I am.” She kicked out of her boots at the same time she unzipped her jeans.

  I rolled over, reaching out to touch her leg. “What time is it?”

  “A little after one. I decided I couldn’t sleep without you and left mom in my brother’s capable hands.” Audrey lifted her shirt off and slipped out of her jeans, folding both neatly on the antique trunk at the end of my bed.

  “Are you staying with me?”

  She stripped out of her bra and panties then climbed into bed. “Always.”

  I clung to her, head on her shoulder and arm around her waist. “You promise?”

  “Promise.”

  * * *

  I slept dreamlessly, limbs entwined with hers, right through until my alarm. When I showered, I felt revitalized rather than just-woken groggy. The simplest thing could turn me from a mess to a functioning person again. Sorting through plastic-wrapped dry cleaning I decided on one of my favorite dresses, a black Stella McCartney with colorful embroidered flowers and a mildly indecent front split. A very naked and tempting Audrey stood behind me in the bathroom while I put makeup on.

  After some indulgent ogling in the mirror, I turned around and pointed at the doorway. “Out. I can’t concentrate with you in here.”

  “I think you’re doing just fine.” Audrey ran her hand over the fabric covering my upper arm. “I love you in this dress.”

  “I love that you love it.” I turned around and traced the line of her collarbone with my fingertips, watching the way her skin twitched under my touch. “You know, I thought about a lot of things while you were out of town.”

  “What about?” She shuddered as my hand slid lower to brush against her breast.

  “You, mostly. How much I love you. How much I need you.” I drew in a deep breath. “I couldn’t do this without you, Audrey. I mean it.”

  Her expression was serene, almost meditative with eyes half closed and that kissable mouth on the edge of breaking into one of her precious smiles. “Me too.”

  “Listen, I…things will be hectic and busy and annoying for the next six months or so, but I promise it’ll get better.” I twisted to set down my eyeliner then took both her hands in mine. “I promise you will always be a priority for me.”

  “Thank you.”

  I pressed a kiss to the base of her neck. “Now I mean it. Get out of here before I ravish you.”

  She flicked her fingers at her forehead in mock salute and backed out of the bathroom. When I emerged Audrey was sitting on the bed, still naked. I moved to my walk-in. “Are you trying to make me late?”

  She stood and followed me. “No, just reminding you what’s waiting for you when we’re done tonight.”

  I grinned. “As if I could ever forget.” I picked a pair of satin slingback Miu Miu pumps and added minimal jewelry. I felt good. Even in those heels and with her barefoot I had to stretch a little to kiss her. “I’ll see you for the meeting.”

  “Mhmm. Love you.” Audrey moved aside to let me by, slapping my ass on the way past.

  “Tease. Love you too,” I called over my shoulder.

  Tom called just before eight thirty a.m. to inform me that our statement had been released. I thanked him, and braced myself for the inevitable barrage of calls from reporters. They didn’t disappoint. I juggled calls from journalists and clients while trying to work, and I accepted that even if I thought I’d won them over with skill and charm, some of Mark’s clients might yet leave.

  Shane Preston obviously had a Google alert set up to catch the keywords “Rhodes and Hall.” He called me barely an hour after the press statement went live, assuring me that he wanted to keep his account with me, and also congratulating me. I almost choked at the irony of his sudden turnabout from doubter to fan. Of course the one client I would like to lose was the one certain to stay.

  I further revised my opinion of him when he said, “I’d like to add another ten million.”

  It took everything I had not to splutter in surprise. “Well thank you, Shane. I can’t tell you how pleased and excited I am to have the opportunity to make that work for you.”

  “As am I.” He ummed and ahhed for a long moment. “Frankly, Isabelle…I’d heard rumors about Mark Hall’s competence and I wasn’t certain how involved he was in your decisions. With his departure, I now feel very comfortable increasing my base.”

  I straightened in my chair. “Shane, I assure you that Mark has never had any input in how I manage my clients’ portfolios.”

  “Good,” he said firmly. “Now, when can you come for a meeting?”

  My revised opinion of him slid down a notch, back toward pain in the ass. Forcing cheer into my voice, I asked, “How’s next week work for you?”

  Every chance I got, I Googled. The fact that Mark was no longer associated with the company featured on all the financial sites and some gossip columns. Speculation was that he had a drug problem, possibly involved in organized crime, had a penchant for hookers and every other out-there theory in between. Unfortunately, it was all so carefully worded so as to not be libelous. Pity.

  Some articles worried about the future of the company. My favorite op-ed piece was titled, “Where will Isabelle Rhodes go now?” Back to work. Duh. A few sites had photos of Mark and me together. Ordinarily, I’d be pleased with their choice. I looked good, but it only highlighted everything that had fallen apart, and that I had to put it all back together again. But I was starting to feel like I really could put it all together.

  Clare assured me all staff would be attending later that day, handed me fresh coffee and some papers, and then left me to work. She brought me lunch and made it clear, without actually saying anything, that it would be in my best interest to eat it. I imagined at some stage, Tamara would be getting a run down on the “make sure Ms. Rhodes eats” portion of her new job.

  Half an hour or so before the meeting in which I hoped to establish my position as a woman heading up a large, successful financial organization, Mark knocked on my door. “Belle?”

  “Mmm?”

  He strode over to my desk, his hands behind his back. “I wanted to give you this.” He brought his hands around and I had to lean closer to make out the lump in his hand. It took a moment before I recognized it as a piece of our very first office. The night before the construction guys were due to come in and outfit the space, we’d ceremoniously drunk
an expensive bottle of champagne then attacked a wall with sledgehammers. As we left, I’d picked up a chunk of the wall we’d bashed and given it to him.

  I raised my eyes to his. “Is that what I think it is? You kept it all this time?” I had to bite my bottom lip to stop it trembling.

  Mark smiled and quickly dashed his palm against his eyes. “Course I did. Now you can have it back, to remind you of how far you’ve come.” He set the lump of concrete on my desk, and opened his arms to me. When I stepped into his embrace he leaned down to speak near my ear. “You’re the boss now, Belle, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. See you at the meeting.” He released me and walked out without another word or backward glance.

  I dropped into my chair, turning slowly side to side and stared at the concrete, mind blank of all thought except the occasional shit.

  “You can only do what you can do,” I mumbled to myself as I wrote “IT’S NOT PERSONAL” on a sticky note and stuck it to the lump of concrete Mark had left me.

  Footsteps in the hallway then familiar laughter carried through my open doorway. Audrey. I smiled to myself, and glanced at the time. Meeting in fifteen. A few seconds later, Clare knocked. “Ms. Rhodes, Audrey Graham’s here, as is almost everyone else.”

  “Thanks, Clare. I’ll be ready in a few minutes. Has everyone been given the handout?”

  Clare nodded silently and melted away. I smoothed down my dress as Audrey stepped into my office, a thin manila folder tucked under her arm. My smile grew. She wore one of my favorite shirts, a sky blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up. Paired with black slacks, a thin belt and loafers, she had an enviable mix of casual and elegant.

  Audrey gestured to my desk. “You know, I’ve never been in your office. It’s very you.”

  “Thanks. I think. Did you need something to drink?”

  “Clare already offered, thanks.” Audrey crossed to stand beside me. Eyebrows slightly raised and eyes soft, she studied me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good. I’m about ready. Take a seat and I’ll be back in a minute.”