A Jewel In Time; A Sultry Sisters Anthology

by Barbara Devlin

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,

  Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens.

  She hit the speaker button. “Hi!”

  “What’s going on?” She’d spoken to her mom when she’d landed, so she knew her call was planned to check-in on Olivia, following Emerson’s departure.

  “Little Miss Princess got arrested.” Olivia removed her jewelry, and she was surprised she’d been able to sleep in it.

  “Again? Oh, dear.” Her mom always listened with a patient ear to all of her client’s mishaps. She loved that she never judged, just commiserated.

  “Emerson left yesterday.” She peeled off her hose and tossed them into the hamper.

  “How are you doing with that?”

  “I love him so much, but it seems that between both our jobs, and the messages from the brooch, we aren’t meant to be together.” She shrugged out of her suit, surveyed it, deemed it too wrinkled to wear again, and slung it into the dry cleaning pile.

  “Did you read the journal?” Why did her mom keep sending her to the journal? Couldn’t she just tell her how to decipher the clues?

  “Some of it. And I asked Emerson a zillion questions. There’s no link between him and my dream.” Olivia boxed her hot pink heels.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Your true love will come along.” So, her mom hadn’t believed Emerson was her true love. She sighed.

  “Travis wants me to take him back.” She had five, or maybe six, expensive floral arrangements emphasizing his desire.

  “Of course, he does, you are a darling woman. You aren’t going to, are you?”

  “No. I see clearly now that relationship was never what I wanted, and Emerson is everything I ever wanted. He indicated he’d like me to live in England with him.” She wandered to the kitchen and brewed some coffee.

  “Does he realize what that would mean for your business?” Olivia recalled Emerson on the couch in her office. Yes, she suspected after his time there he had a general idea, though they hadn’t talked about it.

  “Not really. I kinda said I wanted to run away from everything.” She opened the fridge. A half a loaf of garlic bread that was likely hard as a rock, three expired yogurts, and a handful of condiments stared at her.

  “Are you considering that?” The concern in her mom’s voice was unmistakable.

  “No. I’ve never lived anywhere but Los Angeles, and I have contracts with my clients. They rely on me. As do my employees.” The cupboard was equally as bare, but she pulled out a jar of peanut butter and stuck her finger into it.

  “I’m really proud of your success, sweetheart. And any man worth being with will be, too. A man who loves you will never ask you to give up your work or your life for him.”

  Olivia sucked another dollop of peanut butter off her finger. “I know. Oh, yeah. Do the dreams stop after you’ve met your true love?”

  “Not necessarily. They seem to stop once you two are together.” That gave her hope. There was a continent and an ocean between her and Emerson right now, so it would be reasonable for the visions to persist.

  Her caller ID announced Stacy was on the line. “I gotta go. It’s work. I love you.”

  She clicked the receiver. “How are we doing, Stacy?”

  Stacy had been Olivia’s first hire when she’d started the PR firm over a decade ago. Stacy had started as an assistant, but she learned quickly and was promoted repeatedly. She now served as a Senior Account Executive, but really she could provide the same services as Olivia. Stacy could have left and opened her own firm, but she remained loyal. “Just wanted to tell you it’s cool to come in late if you want. Everything is fine.”

  Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was fine. For now. At work at least. Her personal life, not so fine. The man she loved was miles away, and she’d yet to hear from him that day. Had her client crisis, or observing her in work mode, scared him away? She brushed the thought from her mind. That was ridiculous. Emerson was too strong a man to be threatened by her success. “Thanks, I’ll be in before noon.”

  She disconnected, ran a bath, and poured in her favorite potion. Watching the bubbles rise over the edge of the tub reminded her of the Christmas present from Emerson. She grinned, recalling the image of him, on his knees, preparing a bath for her.

  She returned to the kitchen. The smell of coffee transported her into yet another Emerson memory. He’d fetched a cup of coffee from the hotel lobby every morning, and even though it had been in an awful Styrofoam cup, it had tasted delicious because it had come from him. Her heart ached at the possibility he wasn’t her true love.

  She poured more sugar into the bitter liquid than usual that morning, since she had no cream, and then melted into the mound of lavender-scented warmth before facing the rest of the day. Her mind wandered to her dinner date in Boston with Emerson, when they’d planned out how their long distance relationship would work, and she’d become his girlfriend. She giggled and blew bubbles into the air.

  The long awaited text from Emerson arrived as she dried herself.

  Emerson: Miss you. Skype in an hour?

  She grinned and hugged the towel around her. He hadn’t forgotten her. She typed back, Yes. Miss you too.

  That hour couldn’t go by fast enough, but she busied herself getting dressed, making a grocery list, and returning texts.

  At the appointed time, she sat on her loveseat, ready for their first Internet date. An invite popped up from Emerson Gascoigne-Lake. So that was his last name. It seemed familiar. She accepted the call, but she couldn’t see anything on the screen.

  “Hi. Can you see me? I can’t see you.” She waved.

  “No, I can’t see you.” His voice invigorated her. “Give me a second. I’ll see if I can figure it out.” A clicking, then a muffled, “Bloody hell,” emanated from the computer speakers.

  “Want to just talk on the phone?” She assumed they wouldn’t have much time, so she had not wanted them to waste it messing with technology.

  “No. I want to see you. I think it’s my office computer. I’m going to go out to the receptionist’s desk. She’s still here waiting for her ride, so her machine’s probably on.” Olivia realized it was night there.

  “I’m going to call you back.” He disconnected. She waited. She fluffed her hair and licked her lips.

  A new invite appeared. That time, when she hit the button, her screen filled with his image. She smiled. “Hi.”

  “It’s so great to see you. You look beautiful.” He adjusted the monitor so it no longer cut off his head.

  She grinned and all but bounced with joy. “And you look handsome. You’re working late.”

  “Yes.” His brow furrowed. “The meeting is tomorrow, and I have only one firm yes, but no signed contracts. I have to apply some pressure to everyone I met with in Los Angeles now. I can’t go into that meeting empty-handed.”

  “I believe in you. At least one will come through.” She wished she could hold him, as she reassured him. She missed his touch, his warmth, and his strength.

  “Olivia, I have been doing some thinking, and what you said is correct. My business and life are in England. Your business and life are in Los Angeles. Both of us have demanding positions. I would never want to take you away from your world.”

  “Or I from yours.” Where was he going with that? Her heart beat faster.

  “I want to make this work, you know I do, but I wracked my brain on both flights over here, trying to figure it out, and I’m not coming up with any viable solutions.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “So you want to break-up?”

  “No, I don’t want to, but I don’t want to tie you down, or hold you back.” He raked both hands through his thick hair.

  “That’s not how I see it.” She balled her hands in her lap.

  “I saw you work. You have a gift. You are amazing. I couldn’t ask you to give that up for me.” He frowned.

  “Why would I have to?” Confused, she shook her head.r />
  He speared through his hair again. “Think about it. Our long distance plan that we created has already been thwarted once, when I couldn’t change my flight to stay in Los Angeles longer. And you have the three movie premiers coming up, so you aren’t available to travel here, for at least another month, and I can’t get away again until the company is profitable.” He spoke the truth. She just hadn’t wanted to hear it.

  “Right.” She took a deep breath. She was not ready to let go. It sounded like he might be though. “Are you giving up on us?”

  “No. Hang on. My phone is ringing.” Emerson disappeared from sight, leaving her to stare at the top of an empty chair and the bottom of a painting. She sighed then looked closer. From what she could see, the picture was of an old wooden ship in choppy waters at night. Her heart raced again.

  Emerson returned. “I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to take this call, and it’s probably going to be awhile.”

  “OK, but wait…can you show me the whole painting behind you?”

  “Uh, OK.” He tilted the camera, so she had a complete view. Her mouth fell open. A buzz came from the other room. “Olivia, I have to go. They are on hold. I love you, and I am not giving up. We will talk again soon.”

  He disconnected, and the monitor went black.

  For a minute, she sat frozen. The painting. It was her dream. The image was exact.

  The only difference had been that in the picture the name of the ship had been completely readable. The Indomitable.

  The brooch wasn’t broken.

  Then she recalled where she’d seen the name. She ran into her bedroom and flipped open the top to the wooden box. She pulled out the journal, carefully but quickly unwrapped it, and looked for the entry she’d scanned. After a couple minutes, she located it. There it was. Lady Amanda Gascoigne-Lake.

  The ship painting and the exact last name in the journal. Two unmistakable signs that her true love was Emerson.

  Her true love was Emerson.

  She let that sink into her brain.

  Since he was her true love, there had to be a way for them to be together. She danced around her living room, full of joy, convinced they would work it out.

  * * *

  It hurt Emerson that he had hurt Olivia. His only desire was to do what was best for her, so she’d be happy. They weren’t stranded in a hotel room, sheltered from the world any longer. They had to face reality. And the facts, as he saw them, had amounted to two individuals, bound to opposite continents, by previous commitments, which prevented him from behaving as the man he wanted to be for her.

  Even if their love were strong enough to survive the distance, what kind of relationship would they really have over Skype? He longed to touch her, to wake up next to her, to be in her space. Just in the few days he’d been apart from her, he had missed so many little things about her--her scent, her giggle, her petite nose.

  More importantly, she deserved a man who would really be there for her. A man who would take out the trash, cook dinner with her, and make love to her.

  He couldn’t provide those things as long as he ran Buccaneer Trading in London, so he had decided it would be wrong to bind her to their hastily made obligation. It would actually be selfish to stay with her. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to set her free.

  He raked a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the gnawing ache in his chest. He’d never made a choice to let someone go, purely because it would be best for her. He chuckled at the unfairness of the situation. He had to relinquish her, so that she would be free to enjoy a relationship and happiness with someone else.

  Pushing papers across his desk, he attempted to organize the mess he’d created, preparing proposals and negotiating contracts, but his heart wasn’t in it. He leaned back, reclined his chair, looped his arms behind his head, and threw his feet up on the desk. Maybe there was some solution he hadn’t considered yet.

  Scanning his office, it struck him how different his space was from Olivia’s. All of his furniture was dark wood, from the floor to ceiling shelves, to his desk, and even his chair. Two French Provencal chairs covered in deep burgundy fabric sat opposite his desk.

  His workroom was also a smaller, interior space, with no windows. Since it was an older building, there were no fluorescent fixtures. A classic banker’s lamp provided most of the light in the room, but compared to Olivia’s bright, naturally lit space, his was dim. Kind of like his life without her in it. He let his feet plop to the floor.

  His eye caught the hourglass he had sitting on one of his shelves. In all the time, over all the years, he’d spent in that office, he’d never flipped it. It was his version of a sculpture. In that moment, it mocked him. He only had so much time in life. Was he willing to spend more of it alone? If he stayed dutiful to Buccaneer Trading it was looking like he’d remain single.

  He kicked over his wastebasket. He might have failed at love, but he had saved the company. By applying hard core sales skills and the edgy closing tactics his father had taught him, he’d received signed contracts from all four Los Angeles companies he’d courted. He’d been proud to stand in the meeting that morning and toss them across the table as proof of his success. The partner’s couldn’t vote to sell now.

  Then it struck him. They couldn’t sell now. The company had been saved and with the millions of dollars of business he’d signed in one day, Buccaneer Trading could hire a new CEO, and he could step down and move to LA to be with Olivia. He could kick up his heels with joy at the prospect.

  He shuffled another set of papers across the desk and checked the time. They’d been discussing the future of the company behind closed doors for a little under two hours now. He couldn’t imagine what was taking them so long or why he’d been asked to leave. But he was anxious to get back into the room and share his news with them. He was resigning as CEO.

  He jumped when his phone buzzed. “Yes?”

  His reception delivered the request. “They are ready for you to join them.”

  Emerson strode down the hall to the large conference room and forced himself to stay calm. Even though he’d made the decision to leave, he’d wanted it to be on his terms—the company kept in the family, not sold. He entered and sat at the far end of the long mahogany boardroom table and braced himself for the worst. Seven gentlemen of various ages filled the other seats. All were clad in expensive tailored suits, three were solid and four were navy pinstripe. It crossed his mind that they could use some fashion tips from Olivia.

  Mr. Williams, the closest man to him, spoke first. “Mr. Gascoigne-Lake, I speak for all of us when I say that we have been impressed with how you have turned around Buccaneer Trading and brought us into a more modern age of importing and exporting.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.” While the flattery was nice, he feared they might be delivering compliments before the blow.

  “We are wondering if you’d be open to hearing about another direction we’d like to take the business?” The gentleman leaned forward.

  “Only if it doesn’t involve selling.” He made a fist.

  “It does not.” The man glanced at the others.

  Emerson relaxed his shoulders. That had been his greatest concern. “Or merging.”

  “No. Buccaneer Trading would remain a stand alone entity.” Mr. Williams emptied his water glass.

  Emerson nodded. That was the only acceptable answer.

  “May Mr. Burnham present to you?” Mr. Burnham was the eldest board member and had been a close personal friend of his father.

  “Yes.” Emerson leaned back in the leather chair. He’d thought it best to let them speak first then he’d deliver his resignation. “I am intrigued.”

  Mr. Burnham rose and laid out an extensive expansion plan, which would increase the size of the company threefold, and the profit margins by four times. The company would be renamed Buccaneer International Trading, and be rebranded. When he’d finished, each partner shared their support of the idea, as well as the
ir belief that Emerson was the right leader to implement it.

  The partners had decided that the first step of the expansion was to open a Los Angeles hub. They had insisted Emerson spearhead the project. Getting it off the ground would mean relocating to Los Angeles for at least five years.

  He could not have received better news. Now he had no reason to quit.

  Emerson had never believed in magic or miracles. He prided himself on being practical, logical, and steady. But whatever happened in that meeting while he’d been in his office he could only explain as a supernatural intervention.

  That development was so huge and wonderful he wanted to tell Olivia, in person. He prepared to fly back to Los Angeles the following day. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he surprised her at her office a second time.

  * * *

  Stacy curved around the doorframe leading to Olivia’s office. “Hello. Got a minute?”

  She’d caught Olivia staring out the window, trying to figure out how she and Emerson were going to make their long distance relationship work. He was definitely the one, so there had to be a way. “Sure. C’mon in.”

  The red head plopped on the couch and patted the spot next to her—their sign for girl talk time. What actor had Stacy fallen for now? Probably Jake, whom the Exec team had decided to nickname Jaguar Boy though Olivia hadn’t asked why.

  Olivia joined her on the sofa. “Fall for Jaguar Boy?”

  “No.” She blushed. She had. “This talk isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

  “Me?” She’d been waiting for Stacy to give her the he’s-such-a-great-guy speech about her ex. She wasn’t in the mood to hear it now, but perhaps it was best to get it over with. “Oh, you want to talk about Travis. Did I mention he slept with the blonde bimbo squad?”

  “Wow, you are in denial. Travis is an ass. I’m referring to the hunky Brit you were all but molesting in the hallway the other night. Remember him?” She grabbed a pillow from the sofa and kissed it passionately.

  Olivia chuckled. She’d never forget him. “Emerson.”

  “Yes, Emerson. If you want to go visit him, I’ve got things here.” Stacy tossed the pillow onto the other side of the couch.