by Dorien Kelly
She stood. “I’m sorry. You were right, maybe later is a better time.” She was out the door before he could object, not that he’d planned to.
He’d deal with this later. Much, much later.
Daniel returned to his desk, closed his eyes and imagined himself someplace far from the Donovan empire, someplace friendly, open and warm.
JUST PAST SIX THAT evening, Annie sat at her gate in Metro Airport’s McNamara Terminal. Her flight didn’t leave for another hour and a half, and she’d already been at the airport long enough to buy a book, stock up on junk food and pace the long arm of the building from beginning to end. Airports remained among her least favorite places, but they had pulled ahead of Donovan’s headquarters.
At midafternoon, Sasha had called Annie’s office with some good news. Hal’s heart episode had been a harmless case of tachycardia, probably brought on by stress. He was fine now, but considering his history, they were going to keep him overnight anyway. After thanking Sasha for the update, Annie had tried to get word to Daniel, but he had gone. His cell phone went unanswered, too. An hour later, Annie had left for the airport. Distracted as she was, sticking around work would have been just for show.
Annie regretted the way she’d walked out on Daniel, regretted that she’d even criticized him to begin with. Bottom line, the choice had been his to make. Weighing loyalties was no job for outsiders, and like it or not, she was on the outside of Hal and Daniel’s friendship.
In the mood to munch, Annie hauled her carry-on bag onto the seat next to her and unzipped the outside pocket. The chocolate-covered pretzel rods she’d picked up looked pretty tasty. Of course, she could always go the healthier route and try the trail mix, never mind that it was about forty percent candy-covered chocolate.
As a minor sop to her conscience, Annie settled on the mix. She dug into the bag, trying to avoid the stuff she could live without. She was about to pop the first handful into her mouth when she froze. Enough was enough. She wasn’t even hungry, dammit. Annie dumped the trail mix back into its bag, then tossed the whole thing into the trash can at the end of her row of seats.
“Better,” she said to herself. Maybe she hadn’t gotten rid of the chocolate-covered pretzels, but this was a step in the right direction.
Then Annie took her next one—doing as she wished Daniel had done. She pulled out her phone and dialed Sasha. “Three guesses where I am and what I’m doing…”
Annie laughed at her friend’s first guess. “No, it doesn’t involve a naked Irishman.”
But she sure as heck hoped that wherever she ended up once this crazy ride was over, she’d find a way to have Daniel there. And yes, nightly naked, too.
15
BY NOON WEDNESDAY, Annie was back in Ann Arbor with a couple less vacation days to her name. The interviews had gone well enough, and New York had been incredible, if a little overwhelming. Maybe, in time, she’d work up a veneer of sophistication and not be so excited by every corner vendor, shop window or celebrity she thought she might have spotted. Or maybe not. That’s what was making this choice a total bugger—her lack of certainty. There was one thing she was sure of, though. She had missed her Irishman.
Annie walked up the steps to Daniel’s front door. She’d called the office on the way from the airport, and Mrs. D. had told her that he was home tying up a few things. He appeared at the door only moments after she rang the bell.
“Hey,” she said. Not quite as up-front as the “I’m so totally in love with you” she was thinking, but there was no point in sending the man screaming into a sunny Michigan day.
Daniel smiled, yet it wasn’t quite the full Flynn smile of guaranteed seduction.
“Hey,” he said in return.
Annie slipped into worry mode. “Is everything okay? You know I meant it last night on the phone when I apologized for going off the deep end over Hal, right?”
“I know.”
He’d felt distant last night, too, but Annie had put it down to projecting her case of nerves onto Daniel. She’d told herself that it wasn’t as though she could see his face from New York City or judge what was going on with him. But maybe it was time to start trusting her instincts.
“Would you like to come in?” he asked.
“Sure.” She stepped inside after him and nearly fell over a suitcase to the left of the door.
“Business trip?”
“Not exactly. Why don’t we have a talk?”
“Sure.” She kept her voice level, no easy task when her heart was plummeting to her stomach.
Annie followed Daniel to the kitchen, a telling choice on his part, when his bed would have been the other seating option.
She pulled out a chair, sat, then asked, “So what’s up?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“For how long?”
He gave the answer she’d been dreading since that evil talk word had cropped up. “For good.”
Annie scrambled for a way around his announcement. Finally, she resorted to legalities. “But your contract isn’t up for another two weeks.”
He took his time answering. “Hal understands there’s no more I can do.”
What she considered a pretty justifiable case of anger began to spill over. “You mean there’s no more you choose to do.”
“Annie, you’ve got the perfect team assembled to get the pub up and running. You don’t need me here.”
This wasn’t about the pub, and it killed her that he’d choose to play it that way. She was no good at this, no good at acting as though he hadn’t ripped her heart out.
“So where are you going?” she managed to ask.
“Home for a while, then maybe Belize.”
“Why Belize?” The question had been automatic, but suddenly Annie realized something. She just didn’t care. She held up her right hand, palm out. “Wait, don’t answer that. It really doesn’t matter why. Belize is just a symptom.”
“A symptom?”
“Yes, of your moving-on disease. You can’t help yourself, can you?”
Something that might have been either anger or humor briefly sparked in his eyes. “Someone’s been reading Psychology Today, haven’t they?”
He was a master at baiting her, but she’d developed some skills, too. She’d also been watching Daniel Flynn in action for weeks. “Nope, you’re not throwing me off this time. I think I finally have you figured.”
“Do you now?”
Annie was growing more certain of it by the minute. “You’re a regular renaissance man, Daniel. You play the fiddle, write and seem to have some skill in common with nearly everyone you meet. It’s all very cool stuff, but it’s also finally hit me…. You’re good at so many things because you never stick with one long enough to become great. And you know why? Because you’re afraid.”
He laughed. “That’s mad.”
“Is it?” She parked her pride curbside and gave him the truth. “And here’s the thing…though I’m really, really angry at you right now, I love you, and I think you probably love me, too.”
He looked down at the table, then back at her. “Annie—”
“Hang on, I’m not done. I figure the odds are pretty slim on my ever finding anyone else I love this much who loves me back. Daniel, if this is it for me, I want it to be great. I deserve great.”
“You do,” he said.
She had one question to ask before she picked up her pride and moved on. “So what would you say if I asked you stay here in the States with me?”
“You know I can’t,” he fired back.
“Or won’t.”
Color had begun to show along his cheekbones. “Let’s try it another way, Annie. What if I were to ask you to travel with me?”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
But she did, unfortunately. “Until you find another distraction. This is what I mean. You won’t hang in to find great. I love you, but I can’t pack up everything I own and just wander the planet with yo
u. I need goals, a purpose.
“Pick something, Daniel, I don’t care what. Pick it because you love it and then pursue it with all your heart. Maybe you don’t owe me great, but you owe it to yourself.”
He ran his hand through his dark hair, which was already disheveled. “We both knew I’d be leaving sometime. Don’t make this so difficult.”
“But some things in life are difficult, okay? Some things really stink and we have to fight to get through them. But once we do, we end up smarter and better.” At least Annie hoped so, because she’d never felt more rotten.
She pushed away from the table and stood. “And sometimes we even find love. You know, Daniel, I think we really could have been amazing.” Since she could no longer hold back her tears, she left.
Silence reigned after Annie’s departure. Silence and fury. Daniel had never heard such a pile of stinking garbage as her accusations. He was no dabbler, and no coward, either. He grabbed on to all life had to offer because he could. And he would also leave right now instead of tomorrow. Somewhere was a place free of Ms. Annie’s razor-blade pyschocrap.
Half an hour later, as Daniel’s cab rolled past Annie’s town house, he told himself never mind how it felt at that moment, he wasn’t running away. Dammit, he wasn’t.
HAL CALLED A MEETING of senior management on Friday. Since Daniel had been true to his word and left town, Annie walked to the boardroom heart heavy and alone. She’d done little over the past forty-eight hours but mourn. She was right about Daniel, and knew that she deserved better, but that didn’t make her current situation any more bearable.
“Good morning,” she said as she entered the room.
Instead of just Hal and Mrs. D. responding, the Donovan sons returned her greeting, too. Shocked, Annie sat. Maybe she’d somehow wandered into a parallel and happier universe. Her surprise grew as, for the first time in recorded history, a gathering of the Donovans began without the boys sniping at one another.
“First item on the list is the State Street location,” Hal said. “Thanks to the hard work of the team that Annie assembled, I’ve been told that we should be ready to reopen effective August fifth. That date right, Annie?”
She checked her time line. “It is.”
“That date will also mark the day that I step a few chairs to the side at this table. You’ll notice I didn’t say stepping down, Richard,” he added with a glare at his eldest son from over the tops of his reading glasses.
“My hospital visit shook me up. Life’s short, and I’m getting tired of doing the same thing every day. Still, you can’t expect me to give this place up. What you can expect is to start seeing a little less of me. That means you, Duane, are going to have to see a little less of the golf course, and that the rest of you are going to have to learn to get along better.”
He turned and nodded to Mrs. D. She placed a sheet of paper in front of each of the meeting’s participants.
“What you see here,” Hal said, “is my proposal for a new division of power.”
Annie scanned the organizational chart. It seemed fair, with Hal as Chairman, and Richard moving up to CEO. With the exception of Duane, who remained General Counsel, the others had been promoted. Sasha even remained as Honorary Community Liaison, which suited her perfectly.
Annie looked down another level and found her name. She sifted through her emotions to see how she felt about the possibility of remaining with the Donovans, as a direct report to Richard.
Just as she felt about New York, it seemed…totally uncertain.
Maybe Richard would mellow now that he had the power he craved. And perhaps wedded bliss with Evil Queen Rachel, who Annie knew from Sasha would be retiring to start a family as soon as possible, would be enough to allow Richard to age with grace, too. But did she care?
From Annie’s perspective, security and a chunky income were good, but they just weren’t great. She frowned at Hal’s chart as though it was the source of her confusion. She knew better, though. The source was across the Atlantic Ocean and still messing with her mind.
“These are just some thoughts I’ve been batting around,” Hal said. “If anyone has any objections or better ideas, let me know.”
He had just announced himself open to compromise! Annie was tempted to dash to the window and see whether a flock of pigs might be flying by.
“I know that, to a person, everyone at this table thought I’d lost my mind when I announced the pub chain.” He laughed, a sound Annie hadn’t heard in weeks. “It turns out that you were half-right. I don’t want a chain and probably never did, except that I don’t believe in thinking small.
“It turns out that what I really want is the same thing Daniel Flynn’s father has in Ireland—a place to work when I want and to play the rest of the time. Donovan’s State Street Pub is a one-of-a-kind item, and I plan to take a personal hand in it. Probably even check on it daily,” he added.
He looked at Richard. “You can sit down with your lawyers and decide if what I’m offering is enough to keep you happy. But I’m telling you now, son, it’s my final offer.”
Richard looked at the paper a moment longer, then back at his father. “I don’t need to talk to anyone else. This is fine, Dad. Thank you.”
Annie had to glance away from Hal’s fleeting expression of relief. Her tears had been far too close to the surface over the past several days and she damn well refused to cry in the boardroom.
“Good,” Hal said. “Now, on to the next piece of business….”
Clifden, County Galway, Ireland
DANIEL KEPT LITTLE from his travels other than memories and notes. No souvenirs, few photos…nothing that might draw him back. Why, then, couldn’t he let go of these?
He shuffled through the square yellow notes he’d pulled from his pocket, each bearing the same message—my bed—in Annie’s round printing. He’d picked them up then put them back aside countless times since coming home, as though by reading them, he could understand the hold the notes—and Annie—continued to have over him nearly two weeks after he’d left.
“Enough,” he muttered, then tossed the notes into the small trash bin behind the pub’s bar. Less than a second later, he dredged them out. Fool that he was, he could neither keep nor throw them away.
Just then, his mam popped her head in the front door. “I’m off to run a few errands,” she called. “Is there anything you’re needing?”
“An exorcism.”
She stepped all the way inside and came to the bar. “My hearing must be going, just like your da’s. Did you say exorcism?”
He should know better than to jest about matters of faith with his mam. “Sorry, just a joke.”
“And not in the least funny,” she sniffed. “Now, is there anything you really need?”
“There is,” Daniel said. “Can you hang on just a sec?”
Without waiting for her answer, he went to the drawer beneath the pub’s phone and rummaged through the papers, cards and other bits of semibusiness stuff kept there. Finally, he dug out an envelope. It was crumpled and of indeterminate age, but still fit for the role of exorcist. He addressed it to Annie, took the notes from his pocket and tucked them inside. He didn’t plan to think so very hard on why he might be doing this. His mind was too swampy a place to wander these days.
“Would you mind buying some stamps and putting this in the post for me?” he asked his mother.
She took the offered envelope. After she’d read the address, she looked back at him, and Daniel felt again a child under her gaze.
“You won’t be delivering this yourself?” she asked.
“I won’t.”
His mother sighed. “I worry about you, son.”
Which was fitting, as Daniel was worried, too. He’d done nothing but occasionally tend bar and consistently turn down friends’ offers of a night out since he’d been home. And as for his writing? At this point, he was well suited to write dark, knotted bits of dirgelike poetry, which would please neither his pub
lisher nor himself.
In sum, Daniel Flynn was well and truly blue.
Ann Arbor, Michigan
ANNIE SHUFFLED through her mail and froze at the sight of an envelope bearing foreign postage—Irish postage. Still clutching the envelope, she walked to her office door and closed it.
“Get a grip,” she told herself, realizing that her palms had gone from warm to cold and clammy in three seconds flat. Again seated, she opened the envelope and pulled out its contents.
She gazed down at yellow notes identical to those inside her desk drawer. Annie peeked inside the envelope to see if some message had been included, but there was none. She also checked each of the notes to see if anything had been added, and found nothing.
Annie wasn’t the witty, wordy type, like Daniel. She’d hated her college lit courses, agonizing over the meaning behind each word in a poem. She figured that authors should just say whatever it was they were trying to say, and get over themselves.
So what the hell had Daniel been trying to say?
Annie lifted her phone and dialed Sasha’s extension. “Would you mind coming to see me? Something strange came in the mail.”
“So what is it?”
“Just get over here.”
“Cool, a mystery,” her friend said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
While Annie waited for Sasha, she weeded through some old files. Yesterday, she’d given Hal notice. Her boss had been understanding, and even told her that there would always be a place for her at Donovan’s. Annie appreciated the sentiment, but given the change in management, she doubted she’d ever take him up on the offer.
Two days ago, she had also received an offer from the New York brokerage house. Because she wasn’t certain, she’d asked to have until the end of the week to think about it. If all else failed, she could be doing research and analysis in Manhattan. Granted, it wasn’t her dream consultant’s job, but it would do in a pinch.
Though it ate at her to admit it, her father had been right. New York wouldn’t make her happy. The urge to hole up there and never move again was as much a symptom of her unsettled state as Daniel’s constant traveling was of his.