Whisper Privileges

by Dianne Venetta

  “Tell me you’re not jealous,” he said.

  “I’m not jealous.”

  Clay let go of her and the protest hung between them. No breeze to speak of here in the courtyard, her defenses flapped in pitiful defeat. A moonless night, lamps shimmered within the space. The palms trees bowed without motion, fronds drenched in golden light. Tables were empty, the wait service closed. The center fountain was but a single bowl, a gentle noise as its waters dripped to the lighted basin below.

  Staring at her through the dim light, Clay wanted nothing more than to hold Sydney. He wanted to pull her to him and kiss away her fears. He wasn’t blind. Trish was an attractive woman. He knew that her mere presence was enough to send some women running for the hills of safety, security. Hell, in the beginning? He’d been as awestruck by her as everyone else. He couldn’t believe she wanted him and only him, ‘til death do us part. For a twenty-one year old, it had been a dream come true.

  But no longer. He’d lived with the woman inside—or lack thereof—and understood there was nothing to be jealous about. She was a hollow shell. She was a pretty cardboard cutout. Yet Sydney didn’t know. The women before her didn’t know. They only saw what they saw—the beautiful exterior of a shell as it lay gleaming beneath the sun, gently lapped by waves in the crystal pink sand, her exterior washed to a patina of perfection; perfection others wanted to claim for their own.

  But too busy admiring the soft layers and shimmer of color, they never looked further. Anybody home? Anything in there? Had one of them taken the time for closer inspection, they would have realized what he already knew. There wasn’t anyone home inside. No heart, no soul, no nothing. And Clay, for one, was tired of pretty exteriors with nothing inside. He wanted a real woman. A woman he could hold onto, make love to—challenge, disagree, wrap his arms around during the good times, be embraced by during the bad. He believed that woman could be Sydney.

  “I’m trying to be realistic, Clay. Why won’t you accept that?”

  “Because I don’t believe you.”

  “What? What don’t you believe?”

  “I think you’re afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?” she demanded.

  “Afraid of me, my ex, Q... I don’t know exactly, but I intend to find out.” One way or another, he was going to find out why Sydney wanted to push him away, what drove her to run.

  “There’s nothing odd about not wanting to be caught between a man and his ex, Clay. Ask any woman. It’s not a comfortable place to be.”

  “I understand.” He nodded, believing that was a big part of her reticence. “But you’re not any woman.”

  “I am.” She stepped away from him, partially sheltered beneath a cluster of palm trees. “I’m no different than the average woman. I don’t want to get caught up in old drama and besides,” she added, as though it just occurred to her, “you never know. She may have changed. She may have seen the error in her ways. You two may want to get back together...for Q’s sake.”

  His heart spit. Not a chance in hell.

  “She’s an attractive woman. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

  “I won’t lie and tell you I don’t notice beautiful women, because I do. I noticed you. But attraction for me runs more than skin deep. I care about what’s inside, what makes her tick, what moves her, what inspires her. I think you’re a beautiful woman on the outside but even more so on the inside. You care about people, care about doing your best. I like that in a woman—in a person. And I think you’re strong, know what you want out of life.” Clay paused, and breathed in the sight of her. Maybe it was naiveté that held her back. It’s possible she had little life experience outside of her job and her volleyball. From what he learned to date, it sure seemed that way. Maybe she wasn’t ready for a committed relationship. Maybe she was too young, didn’t know what she wanted. He squirreled away the thoughts. Or maybe she did. “But who knows? Maybe I’m wrong.”

  Sydney visibly gulped.

  “You’re right. We haven’t known each other very long. But at least I was willing to give it some more time.” When she remained mute, Clay decided to lay down his last card. “But apparently that makes only one of us.”

  “Clay—”

  “Do you or don’t you, Sydney?”

  She stared at him, the green of her eyes shadowing in the lamplight. She hugged her arms to her body as though warding off any advance from him.

  But he wouldn’t. It was her turn to come to him.

  “So there it is.” His gaze darted back and forth across hers. He wanted to kiss her, kiss some sense into her and set her straight, but he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. What if she was telling the truth? Was it possible she didn’t feel the things he did? But her lips, her reaction...

  No. It wasn’t possible—couldn’t be possible. He knew she cared by the way she responded to him on her couch. That night she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Clay stepped away from her, his movement awkward. Right? He hadn’t misread the signs, had he?

  But when she made no move toward him, he second-guessed his judgment. Laying it on the line as he had, Clay expected her to reach out, erupt in a plea for reconsideration. He thought she’d cross the line of doubt and come to him.

  But she didn’t. Her silence deepened. Her gaze glistened as she stared, but remained level and measured. “Okay, then...” He swallowed his disappointment. “I guess that’s it.”

  Sydney reached out for him. “Clay, maybe—”

  He chucked a glance at her hand and quickly sought her face. “Maybe what?”

  She dropped it away. “I don’t know, maybe…”

  But whatever she intended to say dissolved into nothing. Whatever her problem with the two of them was, she wasn’t ready to voice it.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He met the pity in her eyes head on. “I’m not.” If all he’d have was a week with Sydney, then so be it. It was better than nothing at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sydney slogged through her paperwork. With most of the Special Olympics people cleared out of the city, it was time to clean the papers from her desk, generate the reports for the event. Javier liked his associates to provide a recap for each event outlining what went well, what went wrong, including their budget report, and confirmation that they communicated with sponsors and vendors involved, wrapping each event into a tidy package of completion. But she had no interest. Sinking her weight onto her elbows, she slumped over the forms, catching her chin in the palm of her hand. She heaved a sigh. Stopping by the airport to help facilitate the mass exodus of athletes yesterday, she’d hoped to catch sight of them. Why she wanted to prolong her agony was beyond her, but still... She wished for sight of Clay, of Q—any glimpse, brief, in passing...

  But after six hours without so much as a hint of either one of them, she succumbed to reality. Clay was gone. Time to face the inevitable stack of JL documents. She stared at them and rued the day she ever met Clay Rutledge. She remembered the first time she saw him. Standing next to Charlie, watching her play, he looked like a surfer dude hanging around for the next wave. No worries, no plans, sandy-blond hair and Puka shell necklace, he was a natural at the beach. Yet it was so far from the truth!

  She recalled their first flirtatious banter over drinks, then lunch. His easy way with conversation, his generous way with compliments. She smiled. He’d been forward right from the start, making it very clear he wanted to get closer, go further. She had been certain his play was for sex, nothing more, nothing less. Friends with Charlie, why wouldn’t she suspect as much?

  And maybe a light-hearted fling wouldn’t have been all bad. But what really snared her was his sensitivity toward her feelings. When he took the time to make her feel better about her failure during opening ceremonies, she knew he was no ordinary guy—and nothing like Charlie. It was an effort she didn’t deserve, not after the way she treated him the night before, at the arena. But that didn’t stop Clay. If he wanted to say something,
he was going to say it. And it was all about her. He didn’t dominate the conversation with talk about him. No. Unlike most men, Clay seemed genuinely interested in her, in helping—for her benefit, not his. If that wasn’t quality male in the purest of forms, she didn’t know what was—other than the pride he took in parenthood.

  Her pleasure faded. Last night he made it clear he wanted to pursue a relationship with her and she had made it just as clear she did not. Why? Because of the distance? Clay didn’t seem to think so. Seemed he thought she was running. Sydney looked around the confines of her office, her small, unremarkable and boring office, the calendar on her wall that seemed an outline of her life. Was that all she had? Events, exhibits, conventions? Add the part where he said he’d move and all bets were off. Her objection over distance was wiped clean. Like the dry eraser marks on her planning board, it disappeared in one fell sweep of decision.

  Was he serious? Would he? Could he? She imagined that would be very hard on Q. From everything she gathered, Q was not good with change. He liked consistency. In South Carolina he had a support network of family and friends. It wasn’t fair to make him move.

  So what if she moved? There still remained the fact of his ex-wife. It may not be pretty. It may be petty and small, but it didn’t make her a bad person. It was just her reality. She’d always think of the two of them together, imagine that Clay found Trish more attractive, more desirable. Then she’d always wonder when she’d show up next. If only she’d stayed to work it out with Q, they’d make the perfect fit. Sydney never forgot the part where Trish left him, he didn’t leave her. If it had been left up to Clay, they’d still be married.

  Sydney blew out a sigh and stared down at her paperwork. It was unfortunate. She believed Clay was a good catch. Stabbed by a longing sharper than she expected, a part of her even believed they could make it work. Whatever the odds, they could make it work. She realized as much after standing around a hot airport all day. Six hours was a long time to think and think she did. But it was too late. Calling him now, he’d think her flighty. Indecisive. Who’s to say she wouldn’t have doubts and run?

  No. Their relationship would never go farther than a few kisses. A few very smoldering hot kisses, her mind murmured, immersing itself in vivid memory, the knowledge that it would have been more, except for the call. Sure as she was sitting here, she knew that if they hadn’t been interrupted, she would have let him go farther. Wanted him to go farther.

  Easing back in her chair, she swiveled to one side and closed her eyes. Folding hands over her lap, she envisioned Clay nuzzling in against her ear, her neck, sliding his hand along the outline of her body until she was so hot and wet she could have burned holes clean through her panties. It was that good. The sensation was good. He was good.

  They were good...

  “Sleeping on the job?”

  Sydney’s heart stopped. “Javier!” She bolted upright. “No, I’m not sleeping—just finishing up the paperwork for the events.”

  He chuckled and eased further inside. “Sorry to make you go to all the trouble.”

  “It’s not a problem, Javier,” she said, trying to calm the flush of nerves coursing through her system. “It’s part of the job.”

  “And a job well done, I might add.”

  “Thanks.” She inhaled deeply, releasing the throb in her chest.

  Javier sidled up to her desk and smiled. “Well, you are one of my stars.”

  Really? She glared at Javier. Thick black hair combed back in long layers, his jaw shaved to silky perfection, his pale green shirt impeccably pressed, setting off a tie that reeked of money, he stood smug. Comfortable. She wanted to tell him exactly what she thought. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind about his event assignments. She wanted to reveal his current lover for the two-timing backstabbing fake that she was, but in doing so would risk the goodwill she needed in the form of a referral for her next job. Sydney sharpened her focus. Oh, but she would love nothing more than to smear Morgan’s face in her infidelity, expose her for the conniving bitch that she was— “Javier,” she expelled in a rush. “I’m leaving.”

  “What?”

  Sydney wished she could take pleasure in the complete and total shock on his face, but she only felt sadness. For herself. She hadn’t meant to quit like this, with no idea where she was going or what she would do—only that she had to leave. It had been rumbling in her gut for a while, and now that it was a reality, she inhaled deeply, it actually brought relief. “I’ve decided to leave JL and I was hoping you would give me a referral for my future employer.”

  “But why?” He dropped into a seat, stunned. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not sure, yet.” Angst scattered and popped in her breast. She hadn’t planned that far. “I have some options, potential openings, but I haven’t settled on the details.” Liar. But if Javier knew she had nowhere to go, he’d refuse her request. He’d try and convince her to stay.

  He fell back into the chair. “I don’t understand.” He lifted the tie from his stomach, then flopped it back. “Are you unhappy here? Is there something I’ve done?”

  She looked at him in disbelief. The man had no clue how she felt. No idea what she’d been going through in the last months, never heard her complaints. He saw what he wanted to see and then railroaded his desires over top of hers. To think Javier once prized himself on understanding her inside and out, it galled her. The man was completely out of touch with her true feelings. “It’s time to move on,” she continued. “I’d like to try my hand at new things.” Which was true. She did want to try new things. But they were the same things she was doing here—only better. Moving to a new company would allow her a fresh start. No Morgan, no Charlie. Not even you, Javier. There would be no one there to take advantage of her, undermine her at every turn. No, it would only be her. She could begin with a clear schedule board and move forward with her life. “I think it’s for the best.”

  “Sydney, if this is about not getting the shows you wanted,” his voice took on a queer urgency, “we can fix that. It’s not a problem.”

  She shook her head and tried to ignore the frantic tinge to his plea. More than out of character, it struck a chord—one that hit too close. She’d seen that look once before. Lion turned lamb, tiger turned kitten. It was the day she broke up with him. He seemed upset then, too. Confused, as though he couldn’t fathom why she would leave him.

  Sydney shook her head again and reminded herself of everything that had transpired since. His flares of jealousy, his revenge tactics on the job. Early on, he had attempted to get back together, to do whatever she wanted if only she’d come back to him. But she had no interest. Once she closed the door to her heart, it was shut for good. Eyeballing other women was not a behavior she cared to endure. His petty behavior since only revealed him for the man he was inside, proving she had made the right decision. Javier was controlling and manipulative. He wanted things his way or no way.

  Javier was entitled to nothing from her. He moved on. She moved on. “It’s not about the shows. I’m just ready to expand my horizons, you know?” She folded her arms on top of her desk. Insulting Javier was not her goal. After all, he’d given her a chance to work some big shows in the beginning and those were opportunities she could never repay.

  Gazing at him from across the desk, his pained expression drew snippets of memory, the soft lines of his eyes as he slept, his quick laugh when she tried to one-up him, the gentle groan he emitted when she touched him just so. Strange that she should remember these things now that she was leaving. Yet with all his flaws, she couldn’t deny he had a tender way about him—when he wanted. A sweet romantic side that for a while had persuaded her to believe he was the one. For a time she fantasized about spending the rest of her life with him.

  Until his wandering eye stopped her cold in her tracks. “Will you give me the referral?” she asked, her tone purposefully quiet, calm.

  “Sydney, you know I will. That goes without questi
on.” He shifted in his seat. “But I don’t want to lose you. You really are one of my best. I know you weren’t happy about the Special Olympics, but they are the big time, the major leagues, as you call it.”

  “So was the golf show, but you gave it to Morgan,” she spat before good sense had a chance to intervene. “But that’s your choice, Javier. I’m not angry.” He’d get his due soon enough when he learned of her relationship with the Mayor. And eventually, he would. Miami was a big city, but a small social circle. If Sam spotted Morgan with the Mayor, so would someone else.

  Javier smiled as though he believed he found his way back in. “Sydney, Morgan couldn’t handle the Special Olympics. Charlie couldn’t. James couldn’t. I gave it to you because you were the only one I could trust.”

  Sydney wanted to shoot back a response. If only she had one.

  “You may not realize this, but working the Special Olympics will prove to be a gold star on your résumé. And you, my shining star, deserve it.” He paused, then assumed a delicate intimacy with her. “You know I care about you. You know I still care about you and always will.” His tone dropped to a near whisper as he reminded, “We’re not together because of you, not me.”

  She looked at him and hated the pull she felt toward him. There had always been something about him that she craved. His looks, his personality...

  Something. But if she hadn’t broken it off with him, he would have. Ultimately he would have left her for someone younger, sweeter, hotter.

  “I love you, Sydney.” He shifted in the chair again and suddenly seemed stiff and uncomfortable. “I know I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, but I do.” He tapped his chest. “From the bottom of my heart,” his voice cracked ever so slightly. “You’re special to me. You always will be.”

  She bit her lower lip, tried to ignore the pitch in her stomach. Their years together flooded forth in one last wave, swamping her with emotion. Sydney had loved Javier once, it was true. But not today. Today she felt nothing but professional association.