EIGHT
I didn’t hear from Matt on Saturday or Sunday. While my heart bled, I had to take care of myself for our baby’s sake. I spent Sunday morning with Carson and the students. They convinced me to perform with Carson on short notice. The students wanted to see us dance, and while we had to accommodate for some of the more technical movements and lifts, we had a beautiful routine. I asked Carson to allow me to add a slight solo, and he agreed when I explained my routine. We were scheduled to do two dress rehearsals at the conservatory after office hours during the week.
Carson informed me of the lavish event planned in part by Gill, who managed to get Pentagon’s charitable giving department to purchase five tables at ten-thousand-dollars each. A reserved table for each of the Pentagon men, who could invite whomever they wanted to the gala, claimed the biggest sponsorship for the event. Gill acquired catering, décor, audio-visual, and music on short notice. Carson spoke animatedly, building my anticipation. My big news remained on the tip of my tongue, but until I confirmed with a doctor and was further ahead in my big plans with Pentagon, I wasn’t capable of telling him. However, I had to give him a redacted accounting of my week in paradise. And as a man, he provided insight I would never have imagined.
After a busy weekend, the first phone call I made on Monday morning was to Esmeralda. I arrived early to the office to find a big pile of work laid out on my desk and inbox. As soon as the clock struck eight, and I knew she would be in her office, I pressed dial. A call to Esmeralda became the most difficult call I ever had to undertake. My extended family had criticized and shunned Esmeralda for having a baby at sixteen. She was able to overcome significant adversity by finishing high school and slowly studying to be a nurse. I knew she was the only person I could count on to get confirmation of my pregnancy. However, I feared reprisal from her because we weren’t very close; being ten years apart in age. She’d always held herself out to be a second mother, and I rejected her every step of the way.
“Hello?” She answered her cell. I exhaled and felt anxious.
“Essie?”
“Perlita, what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’? Can’t I call you to see how you and the kids are doing?”
She sighed, “I know you better than you think, and I know you only call me when you need my help.” I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. After a long pause, I responded.
“I’m pregnant.” I blurted out. Not just in response to her, but to confirm it to myself. I cringed when she gasped, waiting for a lecture despite my nearing thirty-years-old.
“Is it by the doctor?”
“Yes. I need a favor.”
“Okay?”
“I need to make an appointment with your doctor to confirm and get any prescriptions necessary,” my voice trembled. I waited for her response.
“If your boyfriend is a doctor, why don’t you get a recommendation for a practice closer to you?”
“Because I don’t want him to know . . . right now. I just need to confirm, but I have to use another name.” I shut my eyes.
“What’s going on, Perlita? And none of your bullshit,” she said.
“I need time and if I go to someone local, using my name, he’ll check into my medical records.”
“That’s highly unethical.” She uttered.
“He has a history of it, and I just need time, please.” I pled, hoping she would support me and agree.
“Is this unwelcomed?” She asked with a tinge of disappointment in her voice.
“No,” I indicated. “I’m pleasantly surprised. He’s made it clear he wants a family. I just have a lot of things to think about and fix before I tell him. And we’re technically married, so this won’t be out of wedlock, if you must know.
“What the hell does ‘technically married’ mean? Either you are or aren’t married,” she stated.
“There isn’t a quick explanation. I want to make sure I’m doing the right thing. Please help me.” I begged.
“Okay. When would you like to come in?”
“Tomorrow?” I asked sheepishly, knowing I would be asking for more than what I deserved.
“I heard her clicking around I have time at three in the afternoon,” she replied.
“I’ll take it. Thanks, Essie. It means a lot,” I wrote out the details. A knock on the door awoke me from my reverie. I tore the sheet of paper and placed it in my briefcase.
“Come in,” I yelled out.
Opening the door, Gill entered, “Hi,” he said with a wide smile and bright eyes. I was happy to see him, but not speaking to Matt had me filled with angst. I stood and walked over to him and gave him a hug. “I see you’ve been busy here,” he said, looking at the desk with a third of the work completed, which I placed in his box to be distributed to Caroline for finalization.
“I couldn’t wait to get started,” I smiled curtly.
“What’s wrong?” He asked as I returned to my chair. I was feeling tired. Lack of sleep, intermittent sickness throughout the day, and fear of meeting with Brady to get my license was heavily visible in my demeanor.
“Can you ask Caroline to schedule me a quick appointment with Brady Clay? I also need my afternoon clear tomorrow. I will return as soon as I’m done to continue working through this mounds of paperwork. I’ll be working through the day and night, so I’ll need you to just ensure the backlog keeps trickling through and . . .” I rattled off without giving him a chance to take notes.
“Whoa. We’ll take care of it all, but I just want to ensure you’re okay.”
I sighed, “I’m sorry. I’m just . . .” With arms wide open, I encapsulated my feelings with the gesture.
“I’ll help with whatever you need,” he offered.
“Thanks for all you’ve done for Carson’s group. Without you, it wouldn’t be the gala event he’d hoped to raise funds for scholarships,” I extended.
“My pleasure,” he answered. “Do you want to do lunch and talk?” Gill asked. I shook my head ‘no.’ “I’ll order you something. I can stay for as long as you like and whatever you need me to do, okay?” He asked, and I smiled with a nod, picking up papers as he exited my office.
An alert on my computer screen confirmed an appointment with Brady within an hour. I worked on documents, nervously awaiting the ticking clock to strike the appointed hour.
*****
At the appointed time, I walked to the elevator to go up to Brady’s floor. I made sure to dress professionally in a blouse which covered my décolletage riddled with Matt’s suckles; a tea length long skirt; and topped it with a short-waist blazer. My hair was down and flowing, covering the hickey on my nape, which I hoped would heal by the time of my performance when I would put it up in a bun.
All eyes were on me as I stepped out of the elevator. I had avoided setting foot on the executive floor, knowing Brady’s and Lark’s offices were housed on this level. There were a lot of upper management executives and their staff keeping residence as well. Brady’s receptionist had me wait a moment. Within seconds of buzzing Brady, his door opened and a few executives took leave, staring at me up and down. The company was so vast, I hadn’t met them before, and I wondered if I ever would again.
Brady met me at the door. His eyes glistened with excitement at seeing me. He looked well. No signs of a physical struggle with Matt, so I was relieved to see him without injury. “Hi,” he said, pulling me in for a hug, and I tried to keep a physical response distant, but an enthusiastic demeanor. “How was your weekend?” he asked.
I approached an arm chair and sat as he remained at the door. When he went to close the door, I frowned.
“Do you still not trust me?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face.
“I’d prefer when we’re at Pentagon, we meet with the door open, so no ideas of impropriety are presumed,” I answered.
“So we’re back to being colleagues?” He asked.
“Well, we are at work,” I smiled curtly. “I hope you kn
ow what I’m here for,” I started.
“So you’re filing the license?”
“I haven’t decided one way or another, but I’d like to have it in my possession as you promised,” I emphasized.
“So things didn’t return to normal as you hoped?”
He looked right through me, trying to read my thoughts and determine my feelings.
“Well, let’s just say I’ve been given demands.” I smiled curtly. Before he could add anything, I added, “My license Br . . . Shay?” I said when I saw the lift in his eyebrow. He nodded and stood, but instead of going to retrieve my license, he went and grabbed two waters from his fridge. I took the time to settle myself in because I couldn’t demand something without reciprocity.
Handing me the water, he asked, “How are you?” He sat again.
“Look Shay, I have a lot of work to do. I need the license, and I must get back to work, please,” I pled. He didn’t budge. “I could be better. I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I said.
“That’s not going to be possible,” he said. “Someone’s going to be hurt, and I hope it’s not me,” he answered honestly. “So have you decided between me and Matt?” he asked. I shook my head, ‘no.’
“If you haven’t decided, it still means I stand a chance,” he smiled, looking hopeful.
“I need my license, Shay.”
“What’s the rush?”
“You promised I could have it when I returned with no pressure as to my decision.”
“If you and Matt were okay, then why don’t you two just get a new copy and have the judge sign and file,” he asked.
“Because this one has special significance, and while it can be considered a piece of paper by many, it holds many memories for me of our day.”
“Well, it only holds nightmares for me,” he interjected, staring deeply into my eyes. It was as if he was trying to telepathically change my mind.
“I’m sorry it’s so painful for you,” I offered. “I need some time to consider my next steps. In the meantime, I’d like to ensure I have my license,”
“How about dinner, and I’ll bring the license?”
“How about my license and I will have dinner with you and Maggie?” I negotiated. He smiled brightly.
“You’re a good negotiator,” he complimented.
“I’m learning from the best,” I returned.
Brady stood and walked out of the door. After many minutes, he returned with an envelope in hand, and handed it to me. I looked at the address and it was addressed to the Clerk’s office where we applied for our license. I broke open the seal and looked at the license to verify its veracity. Seeing the signature of Judge Calvin Porter and the date of our ceremony, I believed it was the true version.
“Don’t trust me?” He asked as I looked at it again.
“No . . . I mean, I need to ensure Aida didn’t do something to invalidate this license. Thank you,” I said, rising to my feet.
“About dinner?” He reminded.
“Yes. I’ll be busy this week, I said. When he frowned, I added, “I have to get caught up with work, then I have a couple of dress rehearsals for the performance this Saturday,” I accounted. He nodded.
“Yes, I’m taking mom to the performance.”
“And Brigit?” I asked, unable to contain a modicum of jealousy.
The question perked him up, and he smiled before saying, “It’s over.”
“How did she take it?” I truly wanted to know her state of wellbeing for fear of my safety.
“I sent her on a two month, all expenses paid European cruise with a compensation package no woman would dare turn down,” he answered honestly. I resisted cringing, as he continued, “I’m sure she’ll find a wealthy man on the cruise to latch onto,” he finished. I nodded.
“And how do you feel about leaving her?” I asked.
Surprised by the question, he paused, and walked to sit at his austere desk. “I told you, I don’t love her. It wasn’t part of our arrangement,” he answered.
I shook my head, “Why do the men who claim to love me exclaim the same exact bullshit about the women they’ve been with?”
I stood to leave.
“Wait,” he said. I stopped in my tracks. “Dinner? When and where?”
“Have your assistant schedule with my assistant, Caroline. And for my sake, please have her include in the appointment the fact Maggie is attending.”
“Why?”
“Just do as I ask, please,” I concluded.
He pursed his lips and gave a curt nod.
“Hey, Perla?” He stalled. “I really enjoyed my time with you, and I hope we get a chance to spend more time together,” he finished.
With a nod, I walked away.
*****
The day continued with a lot of little fires to be put out on Pentagram’s construction. I was also informed of another project, based in Miami, which Kent acquired. They had concluded their renovation proposal, but Kent wanted me to review it and see if there were any trends we could fulfill to make it thrive. I was honored. It meant Kent believed I was capable of being part of the team and I didn’t have to demand participation. I wanted to get through as much as possible before the morning, so I would have less to do the next day.
My office door was closed. I requested privacy for the rest of the afternoon, and allowed Gill and Caroline to leave whenever they wanted. Caroline sent me an email informing she left for the day. Gill sent a text making himself at my disposal. I responded with, ‘go home. C U.’
After a short wave of sickness, which I drowned with sips of water, hunger and thirst beckoned me to find a snack in the break room. I put on my heels and stood when a knock on the door frightened me. “Yes,” I asked meekly, hoping it was the cleaning crew wanting access to the trash bin. Without permission to enter, the door opened, and I saw Matt peek in. He didn’t look happy.
“Matt!” I exclaimed in surprise.
“Expecting someone else?” He asked sarcastically.
“No. Come in,” I invited.
He walked in and closed the door, reclining on the door. He looked so sexy in his scrubs. I ventured he’d come from the hospital.
“Did you meet with anyone in particular today?” He asked knowingly.
‘Fuck!’ I thought. I couldn’t help but think he came to the office to punish me for seeing Brady.
“Yes. I met with Brady to retrieve our license,” I answered honestly.
“Is there anything else?” He inquired.
“Caroline scheduled a dinner with Brady and his mom, Maggie at Stock Well. I made sure it was scheduled to be at a public place.”
“Yes, it is in a public place. A place which is new and has been well received by the press,” he said in a manner as to elude I’d made a huge mistake.
“Okay?”
“I told you I don’t want you to see him. I warned you. Now, you’re going out with him and his mother in public? And you’re doing it at a place where the who’s who of Boston have been attending and raving about. You will be seen. Pictures will be taken. Newspapers and blogs will write about this. Our press department is trying to keep the fact that my wife returned from her honeymoon with another man under wraps.”
“What?” I asked incredulously.
He pulled out his smart phone, tapping furiously until he retrieved what he needed. In brilliant color, an article showed pictures of Matt, Brady, and me. It was our official executive pictures found on Pentagon’s website. The title read, “Love Triangle: Bountiful Beauty Bewitches Bachelor Buddies.” It was clearly a trashy news blog. I read the article, squinting at the small screen. It identified Pentagon’s entire history; relationship between the Board members; the triangle amongst us; and how I was the woman who could bring down the entire Pentagram project and worse, the empire.
The article claimed I’d been secretly dating Brady behind Matt’s back since returning from a week-long trip in the Dominican Republic where we were spotted dancing and canood
ling at the resort’s spectacular four star restaurant and casino. Pixelated pictures of us were provided in a slide show: dancing close; moments after Brady saved me from my attacker and he held me; and Brady and I walking close to the car as he held my heels in his hand. The article capped the piece with information of failed attempts to obtain a copy of the marriage license because the license does not appear to have been filed.
I handed him his phone.
I felt ill. My head started to pound and I sat down, taking a sip of water. I turned around, gagging on the water, which I shouldn’t have consumed. Matt didn’t ask me if I was well. I assumed he was trying to calm himself down.
“Other news outlets are picking this up,” he said.
“I’m sorry, but I have no control over the press. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m doing everything I can to meet your parameters. Obviously there’s a leak. Since you’re here, clearly someone has been informing you about my movements and actions,” I spat.
“Are you deliberately working toward my punishing you?”
“Matt, your request to not see Brady is unreasonable, especially when you’re telling me to file the marriage license,” I argued.
“You’re more than capable to find a way. You could have obtained it without seeing him,” he accused. I rolled my eyes.
“Matt, I’m sorry, but I disagree. I work with him. I’m having dinner with him and his mother. I need you to trust me,”
“I trusted you would follow my directives, but you failed,” he raised his voice.
It was a side of him I hadn’t ever seen. Quite frankly, I never wanted to see it again.
“I’ve had a long day. I’m too tired to argue with you, so if you don’t mind, let’s pick this up another night,” I said, containing my frustration.
Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 Page 22