by Donna Hill
She slunk back over to the couch and plopped down next to him. “I’ll try,” she murmured.
Ron draped his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
Yet, even as she agreed and sat curled in the security of his embrace, she was wondering what was going on downstairs and, more importantly, just how much would her love for her job affect her relationship with Ron.
Chapter 2
Matthew Lewis sat in the quiet of his doctor’s office on the Eastside of upper Manhattan. He’d gotten the call from his doctor’s nurse that it was very important that he come in as soon as possible. When Matthew questioned why, he was informed that, “the doctor would explain everything.”
He didn’t like the sound of it. He heard the door open behind him. Dr. Chavis walked in.
“Thank you for coming, Matt,” he said as he went around the desk and sat down.
“What’s this all about? Is it the tests?”
Dr. Chavis opened a folder on his desk. He paused for several moments before speaking. He looked directly at Matthew. “The test results are not good. We found elevated PSA levels and, in conjunction with the exam, the swelling of the prostate gives me cause for concern.”
Matthew felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. All the color drained from his face.
Dr. Chavis held up his hand. “There is some good news. There are a great deal of treatment options, especially for a man of your age who is in reasonably good health.”
The doctor’s voice drifted off. Matthew no longer heard him. Cancer. The doctor hadn’t come right out and said it, but it hung in the air like a bad smell. The word sent a chill through him. His father had died of prostate cancer and so had his uncle. It ran in his family and the risk of it killing him, as well, rose exponentially. That much, he did know.
“I want to get you in the hospital as soon as possible and take some more tests. They’ll do a biopsy. After we’ve examined the tissue under a microscope, we’ll know best how to proceed.”
Matthew started blankly at the doctor. “When do you want me to come in?”
The doctor opened his appointment book. “Tomorrow at noon.”
“Tomorrow?” Fear gripped his gut. “So soon?”
“The sooner the better, Matt, I’m sure you know that.”
Matthew swallowed over the dry knot in his throat.
“In your medical history you indicated that both your father and your father’s brother died of prostate cancer. That is more reason to take care of this as soon as possible. It could be nothing, but we don’t want to risk it.”
Matthew nodded numbly.
Dr. Chavis wrote some information down on a slip of paper and handed it to Matthew. He then picked up the phone and called the hospital to make an appointment.
“Do you have any questions that I can answer now?”
Matthew slowly shook his head. He stood. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“You’ll probably want to have someone accompany you to the hospital to bring you home. Although it is an outpatient procedure, you will be given a local anesthesia. And it’s always best to have someone for moral support.”
“Sure. Thanks,” he murmured.
There was no one, he realized as he wandered to his car. For several moments, he sat behind the wheel, unable to move. No one he could call. That hard truth hit him almost as hard as the doctor’s assessment. He’d cut off his friends when he got involved with his secretary. He’d lost Elizabeth. His daughters, although still cordial, resented what he’d done to their mother.
Yet, even knowing what he’d done to his wife, he also knew that, above all else, Elizabeth was a caring woman. When they’d had their last talk months earlier and he’d begged for her to take him back, he’d seen the wavering in her eyes and body, but her pride had won out.
He needed to be with someone right now and the only person he wanted to be with was Ellie.
“I’m going to run down to the supermarket to pick up some things for dinner,” Ron said. “I thought I’d whip up my famous veal cutlet parmesan for us.”
Elizabeth rubbed her hands together in glee. “Yum. Want me to go with you?”
“Naw. It’s starting to rain, anyway. I’ll be back in flash.”
“I’ll fix a salad and prepare some pasta with that fancy pasta maker you got me.” She winked.
“Can’t keep a busy woman down,” he joked, then walked over to her. He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. “Listen, about earlier, I know the spa is important to you. I know they depend on you, a little too much in my opinion, but I understand. All I was saying was that I worry about you and I don’t want you to burn yourself out with everyone else’s issues. You spent the better part of your life doing that. It should be Ellie time now.” He shrugged and gave her a crooked grin. “Forgive me if I sounded like a chauvinist pig.”
“Hmm, let me mull that over. I’ll forgive you on one condition.” She planted her hands on her hips.
He frowned. “What condition?”
“That the veal melts in my mouth.” She gave him a wicked grin and giggled.
“Lady, you’re on!” He kissed the bridge of her nose and hurried out.
“Take the umbrella by the door,” she called out.
As she hummed her way to kitchen, she really took Ron’s comments to heart. She’d initially been stung by his proprietary tone but she did understand that his concern stemmed from his feelings for her. He’d been her number-one supporter when she’d told him that, of the four women, she felt best about taking over the daily management of the spa. Neither of them had imagined that it would require all of her time. And the fact that she lived right above hadn’t made it any easier.
The first thing on her agenda when she returned to work was to bring everyone up to speed about what to do when she was unavailable, like on her day off.
She took out some mixed greens for the salad, a red onion, some mushrooms and baby tomatoes. She began washing them in the colander just as the phone rang.
Wiping her hands on a dishtowel, she picked up the phone in the kitchen.
“Ellie, I’m really sorry to bother you again.”
“Whatever it is, Carmen, I know you can handle it,” she said cutting her off at the pass. “If not, it will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“I wish it could wait. Marva, the part-time therapist, is here. She needs to pick up her check but it’s locked in the safe.”
Elizabeth groaned. Unfortunately she had no choice. The combination to the safe was only known by the owners. Well, if she hurried, she could dart downstairs and get back up before Ron returned. “I’ll be right there.”
She rushed onto the main floor of the spa and went to the office downstairs, opened the safe and got the check, then hurried upstairs. Marva was standing there waiting.
“Thanks so much, Ellie,” she said, taking the check. “How’s your day off going?” she asked innocently.
“It’s going.”
“Well, good night.” Marva walked off.
“Oh, Elizabeth, before I forget—”
“No more emergencies.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. You got a phone call, earlier.”
“Did you take a message?”
“Yes, but he said it was urgent that you call as soon as possible. He wanted me to give him your home phone number, but I said I couldn’t do that.”
“Who was it?”
“Matthew Lewis. He said he was your husband.”
Her heart knocked. Ex, she thought but didn’t say it. “What did he want?”
“He said that it was an emergency and to please call him.” She handed her the neat message from the pad. All the items on the preprinted pink slip had been checked off: Date, time, name of caller and degree of importance—Urgent.
Elizabeth took the pink paper, thanked Carmen and went back up to her apartment. She stared at the digits. What did Matthew want and what could be so important?
Matthew had put her thr
ough hell and back. His affair had rocked her to the core and it still stung whenever she thought about it. And it wasn’t so much that he’d had an affair, but how he told her about it. He had wanted to buy her out of the house so that he could move into it with his mistress.
Her stomach churned just thinking about it. She put the number in the drawer next to the sink. Out of sight, out of mind. Whatever it was, he’d have to figure out how to deal with it himself—just like everyone else!
By the time she’d finished with the salad and prepared her special dressing, Ron was walking through the door.
“Honey, I’m home,” he sang out.
Elizabeth smiled. She liked the sound of that.
They spent the rest of the evening, working, laughing and talking side by side.
“So, am I forgiven?” Ron asked as they cleaned up after dinner.
“I need to make deals like that all the time,” she said, rubbing her stomach and running her tongue across her lips.
“I take that as a yes.” He took a napkin and wiped the corner of her mouth.
“And you would be right.” She kissed him quickly on the lips. “How ’bout a movie?”
“Sounds good. I can finish up in here. You go pick something.”
“Drama, comedy, thriller?”
“Hmm, thriller. That way, when you get scared you can leap right into my arms.” He winked.
She shook her head and chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.” She went off to the living room.
Ron finished rinsing the dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher, took the clean dishes out of the draining board and put them in the overhead cabinet. Then the silverware. He opened the drawer and quickly realized it was the wrong one. He started to close it but reached for the piece of paper inside. It was one of the spa’s message sheets, complete with the Pause for Men logo.
That wasn’t what stopped him. It was the date—Today. And it was a message from her ex-husband. Reflexively, his jaw clenched and his mind immediately recapped his first impromptu meeting with Matthew Lewis. He and Ellie had been out all Sunday afternoon and had decided to stop at an outdoor café, when Matthew’d walked up on them. They’d exchanged some heated words and it had nearly turned physical.
He was the one who’d comforted Elizabeth when she was going through the pain and stress of her divorce, the sale of her house. He helped her feel strong enough to live alone for the first time in her adult life. And all of that was because Matthew Lewis had wanted someone younger. It had taken more than six months for Elizabeth to really feel good about herself, begin to open up to him and live life again. What the hell could Matthew Lewis want with her now? More importantly, why didn’t Elizabeth tell him that he’d called?
Ron held the slip of paper in his hand, debating whether to ask her about it or to see if she would tell him on her own. He opted for the latter and put the paper back in the drawer.
He took one last look around the kitchen, turned out the lights and joined Elizabeth on the couch.
After the movie, Ron yawned and stretched. It was almost nine o’clock. Either he was going to stay the night or he needed to be heading home. But he knew, if he stayed and Ellie didn’t mention the call from her husband, it would eat him up all night. And, if he went home, he knew he’d really let his mind go on a free-for-all.
He angled his body on the couch. “Ell, when I was in the kitchen I was putting some of the silverware away and pulled open the wrong drawer. I saw the note from Matt.”
Her eyes widened for an instant in surprise. “Oh.”
He waited to see if she would elaborate. She didn’t. “Have you called him back?”
“No.” She folded her arms in front of her and Ron knew it was her way of saying she didn’t want to discuss it.
He reached over and unloosened her arms. “Do you plan to?”
She snapped her head in his direction. “I don’t know. And that’s my honest and final answer.”
Ron drew in a long breath. “Fair enough.” He pushed up from the couch. “I’m going to head on home. Busy day tomorrow.”
She reached up and took his hand. “Is that the real reason?”
“What other reason could there be?”
“That you’re upset about Matthew calling me.”
“That’s part of it. I just remember everything he put you through, Ell. I thought he was out of your life, and ours, for good.”
“He is.”
“Apparently, he doesn’t think so. Maybe you should call him.”
She glanced away.
Ron leaned down and kissed her lightly. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Rest well.”
Elizabeth started to stop him from leaving, but didn’t. She watched him walk out. The truth was she needed some time to herself. Since she’d gotten the note from Matt, as much as she tried to push it to the back of her mind, it kept running to the front of the line.
She prepared for bed but spent most of the night at war with her emotions.
The following morning, Elizabeth was up and out. If she’d slept a solid two hours she would be surprised. She went down to the spa and began her daily ritual of turning off the alarms, checking the stock and booting up the computers.
She checked the staff roster and was happy and relieved to see that her best friend, Barbara, would be arriving for the morning shift. Some words of wisdom from Barbara was just the thing she needed.
The staff soon began to arrive and Pause for Men was open for business. It never ceased to amaze Elizabeth how many well-to-do men had so much free time in the middle of the day. Barbara breezed in, all smiles and full of energy.
“You sure look happy,” Elizabeth greeted as Barbara tucked her knapsack beneath the registration desk.
“Life is good and Wil is even better.” She flashed a wicked wink.
Everyone thought that, Michael, Barbara’s young NBA star boyfriend turned ex-fiancé, had put a pep in Barbara’s step, but there was no doubt that Wil was the fuel that fired up her tank.
“How are you doing?” Barbara asked, still beaming.
“Not bad. Sort of had a day off yesterday.”
“What do you mean, ‘sort of’?”
Elizabeth recapped her interrupted day.
“Girl, you need to turn off your phone when you’re off. Period.” She planted her hand on her hip. “How long has Carmen been here?”
“A couple of months.”
“She should know how to run this place on her own, by now. That’s why we hired her.”
“Same thing Ron said.”
“I take it he didn’t appreciate the interruptions.”
“That’s an understatement.” She paused. “I need to run something by you.”
“Sure.” Barbara hopped up on the stool.
Elizabeth told Barbara about the message from Matt.
“Wow. Well, did you call him back?”
“No. Ron found the note.”
“Ouch. What did he say?”
“He wanted to know the same thing you did and why Matt would have the nerve to call me after everything he put me through. To make a long story short, he didn’t spend the night.”
“You need to handle it. And you need to ask yourself why you will or won’t call Matt back. It could be anything.”
“Or it could just be another of his ploys to get me back.”
“Would that bother you? I mean, you’re in love with Ron, right? He asked you to marry him. It’s over with you and Matt so it shouldn’t matter. Right?”
“Right.” She looked at her bare hand. The ring was coming, she told herself.
“So, what’s the problem?”
Elizabeth sighed. “Twenty-five years is a long time. We shared a lot, good and bad.”
Barbara’s voice softened. “Do you still have feelings for Matt?”
“When I push all the anger and hurt out of the way…I remember, ya know?”
Barbara squeezed her shoulder. “Then call him and set your mind and your fe
elings to rest.”
She looked at Barbara with a soft smile. “Thanks. I think I will.”
“Good. Now, in the meantime, let’s see how we can assist some of these fine-ass men up in here.”
They both giggled and began their day.
Chapter 3
FBI Offices, 26 Federal Plaza, NYC, NY
Agent Brian Jennings sat in front of his computer in his cramped office, scanning the list of names and affiliations that had been added to the “watch list.” He felt really uncomfortable spying on U.S. citizens but, according to Homeland Security, there were just as many threats from within as from without.
Jennings’s job was to trace all activists, dating as far back as the sixties, from a dizzying array of groups and to see if any names matched current residents of New York City.
This whole operation brought to his mind the dark stories of the Hoover and McCarthy era, where citizens were targeted, blacklisted, harassed, jailed and spied on. Careers and lives were ruined. The country was demoralized. It was an ugly time in American history and it appeared that those times were being revisited.
The screen flashed “Match.” He clicked on the icon and a picture and all relevant data appeared on the screen.
Ronald Powers, age 56, West 132nd Street, former Black Panther member, Atlanta Georgia. Owner of Powers Construction.
Brian went over all of the information, including Powers’s arrest record during a melee on Grove Street in Atlanta. He’d been clean ever since. However, he was now involved in construction and had access to shipments and, from what was on the screen, his shipments of materials came from a supplier in Philadelphia. That supplier was already on the watch list because of his relations in the Middle East.
“Damn,” Brian murmured. He printed out the data. He’d have to turn the information over to his supervisor. As much as Brian figured there was nothing to it but coincidence, Special Agent Luke Hargrove—better known as Hard-ass—wouldn’t feel the same way. He’d want Brian to dig until he reached China.
Reluctantly, he put the info together for the meeting that was scheduled in the next ten minutes. He’d be expected to make a presentation.