Where Life Takes You

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Where Life Takes You Page 7

by Claudia Burgoa


  Steve, the new hire, had come to relieve Chrystal from her current position, and he would also handle the office while I recovered.

  “A moment, Mr. Brightmore.” I stood up, reached for my crutches, and had him follow me to my temporary office. Dan closed the door, and immediately I began my rant. “Running my show again? What happened to me taking charge? You’re unbelievable. I’m not hiring Steve, you’re not firing Chrystal. I. Am.”

  “Becca, baby, be reasonable.” His soothing voice was a trap to convince me that his doing so was in my favor. “You’re working from home until you recover, and there’s no way I’m allowing that woman to stay in the office. It will drive you crazy. Steve graduated top of his class, and comes highly recommended. Give him a chance, princess.”

  I sighed miserably, because he was right, yet it made me upset that he treated me like a fragile object a few too many times. “Fine, we’ll do it your way because there’s no way I’ll win this battle. But he better do a good job or I’ll skin you.”

  “Ouch.” He scrunched his face. “You’re on a murderous strike, baby. Are we good?”

  I narrowed my eyes and nodded. We went back to the living room where Steve and Nate sat.

  “Time to head to the foundation to set up the game plan for the next couple of months.” Dan signaled something to Nate, who grabbed my crutches while Dan lifted me and carried me to the car.

  “I can walk.”

  “I know.” He readjusted my body against his torso. “You’re getting heavy, little one. Don’t make faces. When we get back, you’ll meet your trainer. I set up a small gym so you can keep up with your workout routines and twisty yoga.”

  I huffed after his snide comment. Though it was physically impossible to leave his arms, and stump away, I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. Okay, so I ate too many cookies, chocolates, and delicious desserts, but, up until my leg got mangled, I’d exercised daily. So what if I had curves? They were well maintained.

  “You know I’m kidding, right?” He readjusted me in his arms. “You’re perfect the way you are. The trainer is just so you can go on with your daily routine.”

  When we arrived at the foundation, Chrystal sat at my desk going through the only drawer I never locked. It contained pens and other office supplies. Nothing incriminating or spectacular. Without any preamble, Dan announced the board’s decision to make her position redundant. Her eyes blazed when he handed her the severance package.

  A three-month salary and the number for a headhunter was a sweet deal. In exchange she’d signed a non-disclosure agreement, which forbade her from mentioning that she’d worked for us.

  “I got a good deal, and I don’t have to be around you anymore,” she yelled at me. “You’re a terrible boss. The company is going to sink due to your lack of education.” She slipped her phone number into Dan’s jacket pocket. “Call me. We can get a drink, or two.”

  “No thank you.” He pulled out the slip of paper and threw it in the trashcan. “Nate, escort her off the premises, after she gathers her personal effects, and nothing else.”

  “Are you sure she won’t come back—ever?” I asked Dan after she left my office. He simply nodded and gave me his assuring smile.

  The schedule for the next months included me working from my new, functional office, formally known as Dan’s guest room. Betsy had reorganized Dan’s work load too, canceling all his travel plans, so he could work from home as much as possible. Which is why he hadn’t given me his office to work from.

  Bryan officially became my Nate, and Steve would report directly to me, traveling between the office and my home base. The renovations made sense. They were part of the scheme Dan had fabricated to keep me safe and relaxed while my leg was healing.

  We arrived at home a few minutes before noon—lunchtime. Steve walked along with Nate, while Dan carried me. He was sick of my slow pace due to the crutches. I needed to speed up, or for him to be patient, one of them had to happen, or we would kill each other before my cast came off.

  Chapter 8

  Dan: What girls' night out, Rebecca? I’m working. Can we talk later?

  Me: Ava’s annual bash. Remember back in college when you and your friend’s began to hang out, and Ava created her own version of a girls' night out?

  Dan: We’re all grown up, someone has to inform her. Baby, I’ll talk to you later, video conference.

  Dan became insufferable―my cell guard. Every step I took outside home had to be accompanied by Bryan and approved by him. When did this codependency begin? Unhappy with my imprisonment, I questioned Daniel’s approach to my healing. I was capable of moving around with crutches, no assistance necessary. Yet I only got out once or twice a week to visit the doctor, or to have dinner with him. Ever since Aspen, his overprotective nature took over his personality. Where’s my breathing room?

  Earlier, Ava called to confirm my assistance to her now annual Ava’s Girls’ Night out—AGNO for short. Back during his freshman year of college, Dan and Tyler began to hang out with other freshmen with similar majors―like business, accounting, and marketing. A group formed from those earlier years, and they became so tight, most of them still hung out, even when they had formed families. Wives, girlfriends, husbands, boyfriends, and children were part of a big family that started as a bunch of clueless eighteen year old kids.

  “You’re not ready yet?” Ava’s tall, slim figure appeared through the door. “My message said I would pick you up at eight, and not a minute later.”

  “We—the girls—haven’t hung out in a while,” she stated, getting comfortable on the ottoman and pushing aside the broken leg that happened to be in her way. “I couldn’t convince Ashley to fly in from California. Since the arrival of those children, she’s been ignoring the AGNO. And the group doesn’t hang out much. What happened to tradition?”

  “We had that welcome party for Paige a couple of weeks ago.” Oops. Mentally I slapped myself, and then typed rapid nonsense on my keyboard to avoid her.

  Ava hadn’t got an invitation. The group had met during their second year in college. She’d tried to fit in with the boys, but none of them saw her as girlfriend material. We’d invited her to places, but her flirty and provocative behavior to the guys became unbearable for everyone. Ava searched desperately for a boyfriend who’d become an instant husband. Ashley had nicknamed her herpes—the thing that would never go away—and the single guys, Dan included, agreed with her.

  Ava had established Ava’s Girls’ Night Out as a way of making the girls friendship stronger. Each time I visited the Boston area during my college years, Dan had included me in his outings. When I moved to Boston, they made me part of the crew. Every other weekend, the group had dined at a fancy restaurant and clubbed all night long—up until families began to form. For the past year or so, their meetings had been on and off as everyone’s commitments grew.

  The AGNO had become a hassle for most. Married women didn’t need to search for a weekend date, and their husbands loathed the idea. But Ava had made us promise we wouldn’t miss the first one of the year. Easier said than done.

  Mary brought Ava a glass of gin and tonic—never too early to start the party. Before Mary left the room, I thanked her for the drink, since Ava’s manners were microscopic.

  “Paige… cute little thing. I received the millions of pictures, but don’t remember an invitation.” Ava browsed through her phone. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Babies and Ava don’t mix. They smell funny and don’t talk. How’s life with Dan? Are you two an item yet?” Throwing her phone into her purse and fetching a nail file, she continued the tiresome monologue. Not waiting for an answer. “The two of you remind me of an old couple, very tight, but no sex, unless…. Nah, you wouldn’t do the nasty with anyone. I’d call dibs, but the man is a whore. Go, get dressed. I’ll wait for you in the living room. Dinner reservations are at nine.”

  Before I headed to my room, I gave it a last try and called Dan. “I’m still on a video-conference, princess.
I didn’t forget about you.” Why had I called him? “Nate bought ice cream, and we’ll be having Chinese. I’ll pick it up on my way home.” Is he ignoring the AGNO? Did all calls mean nothing to him?

  “It’s eight o’clock. Why are you still there?” I asked, appalled, without bringing the AGNO into the discussion.

  Ava came back into my office and smirked at the conversation.

  God, I sounded like an upset girlfriend, but before I could try to fix it, Dan answered. “It’s one o’clock in Hawaii, and we’re having issues with one of the resorts.” His voice was low.

  “I’m calling about the famous AGNO.” I hastily changed the topic. We weren’t having a stupid fight about his work hours.

  Not an item.

  “She needs to change the name. I texted you.” Did he? “My gut tells me it’s a terrible idea. You’re still recovering.”

  “But it’s been six weeks. Why can’t I go?” I could hear voices on the other side of the phone. I clenched my teeth, and gripped my phone tightly imagining it was Dan’s neck. He wasn’t my boss. “It’s the first one of the year, and I promised. I can’t miss it.”

  “Bex, baby, I’m in the middle of a meeting. Can we talk about it when I get home?”

  “I guess. You’re behaving like a dictator. I’m asphyxiating.”

  I hung up. Unbelievable! Who did he think he was? I needed to live my life.

  “I gather you’re staying.” Ava interrupted my thoughts.

  “What?” I was horrified. My life didn’t revolve around Daniel Brightmore. I hopped to the closet to pick up my clothes for the evening. “Of course I’m going. I might be living here while recovering, but I have a life. No one misses this AGNO.” At least a few had emailed about going, I recalled reading a week ago. “Even Estella will be there, and she popped a baby out three weeks ago.”

  “Mary.” I went all the way to the media room, where she was waiting for Dan to relieve her from watching Becca’s. This was example number two, Bryan being example number one. I had babysitters 24/7. He was choking me alive. “Hi. Is my red skirt back from the cleaners? I’d love to wear it tonight.”

  I changed into a black backless top, which didn’t match my permanent uniform of sweats. She took a deep breath and left the room without a word. My night ended before it started. Everything else I owned required two healthy legs. Most of my attire was dressy slacks, jeans, and exercise pants. I hated skirts and dresses. But my heart lifted, when a couple of minutes later, Mary, my heroine, handed me not only the skirt but the matching jacket too.

  “Bryan is running a few errands for me. You’ve twenty minutes before he’s back.”

  I loved the woman; she understood me so well. I took my stuff and dressed in record time. Ava brought my knee-high Prada boot and my makeup. I fixed my hair into a messy bun held by a pair of fancy chopsticks. We made history—fifteen minutes later, we were at the door.

  “I’d go crazy without you.” I hugged Mary. “He’s taking this caretaker role to a whole psycho level.”

  “Don’t judge him. You know how much he cares about you.” She hugged me back. “Enjoy your night before all hell breaks loose. He’s going to be mad.”

  “We’ll be fine after he calms down.”

  * * * * *

  It blew my mind that Ava had scored reservations at LaZidda, the newest, trendiest place in Boston. The modern décor with edgy uncomfortable seats and overpriced plates had a waiting list of a month. Everyone placed their order as we arrived, and sat as far as they could from Estella.

  My friends had a few years on me, but it didn’t show. My upbringing had matured me faster than most people my age, and made me think differently. Though the thought of being married, having children, and showing their pictures every single time I saw my friends pained me. Paige was a gorgeous baby, but Estella took motherhood too far.

  “She’s bored,” Joy told me, and patted her swollen belly. “I won’t quit my job when this one is born. I became a teacher so we could share holidays and vacations.”

  We discussed nurseries, colors, baby books, and baby clothes. I promised to go shopping with her when my cast came off. She mentioned Joe’s baby book shopping spree. “Joe reads them religiously, and he keeps bugging me to read them, but I’m not touching them. Women in the nineteen hundreds didn’t have books, and the children turned out right. Why should I waste my time?”

  Barb sat on my other side, and she mirrored my apathetic mood. Vince, her husband, had come in from Brazil today. A good wife would’ve stayed home and balanced out the two-week separation. Instead, she’d gotten her two-year-old ready for bed and flown the house. “I’m working on my PhD, and average Sally here managed to guilt me into coming when I didn’t want to.” She tilted her head towards Ava. “I’m smarter than her, yet, here I am, paying sixty dollars for a dinner I’m not going to finish.”

  No one enjoyed the food—personally, I pushed it around my plate. I wanted shrimp with cashew nuts, a taste of Dan’s Mongolian beef, and a fortune cookie with ice cream on the side. Steak with mashed potato dipped in a fancily named sauce gave me hives.

  “It’s fun when everyone gets together.” I sighed, regretting my last conversation with Dan. I hadn’t thought of the consequences. “The weekend you came over to our house, it was relaxing, nice.” I stopped for a second, realizing I called Dan’s our house, but let it go since Barb didn’t seem to notice. “The children enjoyed themselves, the guys watched the game, and we all got buzzed.” Not me or Dan, of course. I hated hard liquor and he seconded my choices. “This setting doesn’t feel right anymore. Not without the entire group.”

  “You should host another one soon to placate the guys.” She got closer to me, whispering. “Vince isn’t happy, and he called Joe, who shared the same feelings as the other guys, for us joining Ava’s night out. Dan, your man, didn’t complain since you’re staying at home… but things might change now that you’re here.”

  “He’s—”

  “Here’s to another night together.” Ava stood, champagne flute in hand, interrupting my conversation with Barb mid-clarification. My man wasn’t mine. I mean, Dan wasn’t my man. “AGNO has moved from being a fortnightly event to a monthly occurrence. A little help for you girls to get your priorities straight.”

  “No, I’m not doing this again, Ava,” Barb said, squeezing my hand. “I am prioritizing. This doesn’t make sense to most of us. We’re not in college anymore, or single. The scene needs to change. We can have fun over the weekends, but I’m not putting your priorities first anymore.”

  The table went silent. Everyone’s eyes were alternating between Ava and Barb. I signaled the waiter, who arrived at once, and I gave him my emergency credit card to pay the entire bill. Dan was going to flip when he saw that charge. I stood up and reached for my crutches. “Ladies, let’s go and dance. Dinner’s on me.”

  Joy ran to the restroom, yelling stuff about the freaking chairs being trendy-uncomfortable. Those hormones were really amplifying her bitchiness. Estella declared the food new-age-disgusting. I guess we’re not that grown up after all. I internally smirked.

  The waiter interrupted the rant to give me back my card. “Your meal was taken care of, ma’am.”

  No one thought much about it, other than to blame it on the loud complaints we’d been throwing out while getting ready to leave.

  * * * * *

  Buddy, the owner of Sotano, recognized us when we arrived at the main entrance. “He’s coming,” he said into my ear. “Full of rage is how I’d describe his mood. I haven’t heard him this angry since high school.” I lifted an eyebrow―he couldn’t get worse than how I’d seen him. “He made me assign a few of my guys for your security. Please, avoid an incident. You haven’t seen him, but the man can be rough.”

  Buddy and Dan had shared the same foster home. Buddy only finished high school, and worked as a nightclub bouncer after it. They’d reconnected when Dan went clubbing some years ago. Soon after, he’d helped Buddy start
his own club. Now, he owned three in the Boston area, two in New York, and he helped manage the nightclubs at Dan’s resorts.

  “Buddy, he’s being too much.” I wished I could describe what was happening, but not even I understood.

  “Bex, he’s new at this whole thing. Try to give him a break.” He took a bottle of water from the waiter, handed it to me, gave me a hug, and left.

  After Buddy left, I cleared all thoughts about Dan, hoping he wouldn’t intrude more than he already had. I didn’t dance, but I did bounce with style. I abstained from drinking, though. A light buzz in my handicapped situation sounded like a plea for disaster. Plus, I hated hard liquor.

  Estella abstained too. Apparently, the alcohol would mix with her milk and she wouldn’t be able to feed the baby. Joy’s pregnancy stopped her from ordering tequila shots. Ava, my ride home, drank three glasses of wine during dinner, champagne, and downed three whiskey shots before taking to the dance floor. Another of the designated drivers matched Ava’s consumption, and suddenly Dan’s upcoming appearance didn’t sound bad, but rather a blessing in disguise.

  Barb sat next to Joy, and both complained about Estella’s pictures. Joy recounted her nursery story, and Barb described her C-section.

  The overwhelming noise and nonsense talk made me want to run away. “Please smack the hell out of me if I become one of those.” Darla pointed at Estella. “I swear I want to flush that freaking phone. I’m avoiding my brother since my niece’s birth three weeks ago.”

  We both laughed. Estella turned every woman into a child-hater, after two hours of snapshots. The nonsense talk and baby chat became repetitive. Crutches and all, I smiled and went to the dance floor where Ava groped against two guys—was she really my only hope? When she spotted me, she whispered something to one of her dance partners while pointing at me. The tall, blond, gruff-looking guy headed toward me, smiled, and began to dance… with me?

 

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