Behind the Red Doors
Page 18
Trudy came loping around the corner with a baseball in her mouth, and an envelope attached to her collar. Carter fumbled with the envelope and pulled out a check—a sizable check. There was a handwritten note.
Carter,
The company that owns the Valentino diamond sent this reward money, and I wanted you to have it. Was nice meeting “Trudy.” Have a good life.
Faith
Carter groaned and buried his head in his hands. No, no, no! He looked up. “Marie, when did she leave?”
“About ten minutes ago.” Then the woman made a rueful noise. “But if you ask me, from the look on her face when she walked out, she’s looong gone.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Friday, February 14, 2003
“ELOPED?” Faith put down the phone, counted to ten, then put it back to her ear. “Stacy, this is the busiest selling day of the year. You can’t have eloped.”
“But I did!” Stacy squealed. “Ted and I are in Vegas! I’m sorry if it leaves you in a bind, Faith, but Ted proposed last night and suggested that we catch a flight before the airports closed and… Oh, Faith, I’m so happy!”
At the sound of pure joy in the girl’s voice, she closed her eyes. In spite of her predicament, Faith smiled. “Of course you are. We’ll manage. Congratulations, and have a wonderful honeymoon.”
“We will! I’ll be back next week.”
Faith hung up the phone and sighed. Nothing stood in the way of true love, not even the livelihood of The Red Doors. Well, she’d just have to make do on her own today. Actually, with a blanket of snow on the ground, and more on the way, business might not be as busy as she’d hoped.
Resolute to be on her game today, she gulped her coffee to offset a miserable evening and a sleepless night. After leaving the police station, she’d holed up in a multiplex cinema, watching no less than three movies.
Not that she could recite the plot of any of them. She’d sat in the back, eating buttered popcorn—high fiber—and peanut M&M’s—lots of folic acid—crying like a newborn into a stack of napkins. She was determined to shed enough saline to wash Carter Grayson out of her system once and for all. It wasn’t that he’d turned out to be a bald-faced liar that hurt her so much—if the man was that unsavory, she didn’t want him. It was that she’d so misjudged the man. If she was so susceptible to that kind of con, then she must be even more desperate and pathetic than she realized. A bad apple, she could recover from. But bad judgment ran deep.
She still tingled with humiliation when she thought about the great lengths he’d gone to, to fabricate such an elaborate lie. None of it made any sense. She leaned over and reached into her purse, withdrawing a small envelope she’d kept in her bedside drawer for a year and pulled out today. The valentine she’d bought for Carter last year, when she’d thought they were on the verge of taking their relationship to the next level.
She slid her finger under the envelope flap and withdrew the card.
“I think we’re on to something here. Let’s see where it takes us.”
She ran her fingers over the raised words. Carter would never know how much courage it had taken for her to buy that card.
A knock on the locked door interrupted her musings. She dropped the ill-fated card into the trash can and walked out of her office. Dixie stood on the other side of the door, waving.
Faith straightened her shoulders and schooled her face into a pleasant expression. No one could know what a fool he’d made of her. She’d take her shame to her grave.
She walked to the door and unlocked it.
Dixie stepped inside, looked at her, and squinted. “Oh, no. You’ve got that look.”
Faith blinked. “What look? I’m not dieting.”
“No, but I’ve seen that look before—last year on Valentine’s Day.” Dixie shook her finger. “Honey, you have to stop letting that man break your heart. It’s redundant.”
Faith gaped. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Dixie frowned. “There are too many secrets around here.”
“What are you talking about?”
Dixie held up a long gold chain from which dangled a heart-shaped locket. “This, for one. Recognize it?”
“Yes, it’s one of our pieces.”
“Aha! Who bought it?”
“Don’t you know who gave it to you?”
Dixie puffed up like an irritated hen. “No, I don’t. It just…appeared.”
She pressed her lips together to hide a smile. “From your secret admirer?”
“Yes, and if you don’t tell me who it is, I’m going to tell everyone that you and your cop did more to keep warm in the vault than jumping jacks.”
Faith balked. “You wouldn’t.”
“I might.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Dixie sighed, exasperated. “No, I wouldn’t. But I simply have to know who bought this piece of jewelry for me.”
“Let me check the computer.”
A few minutes later she had pulled up all sales to date for the locket. “Hmm, four sold, three at Christmas, and one a week ago.”
“That’s it! Who bought it?”
Faith tapped a few more keys. “It was a cash sale, and the buyer is listed as ‘unknown.”’
“Don’t you remember the customer?”
“No. It says here that Stacy made the sale.”
Dixie looked around. “Where is she?”
Faith smiled sadly. “She eloped last night.”
“Eloped? Good grief, I’ve never heard of anything so irresponsible in my life. What was that girl thinking?”
“That she was in love, I suppose.”
“Well, if she was in love last night, she would have still been in love in a few weeks, the time it would take to plan a proper church wedding.”
Faith laughed. “That surprises me coming from you.”
“Honey, I’ve known a lot of men in my life, but I only married one. I can’t believe there’ll ever be another man like my Lou, God rest his soul.” She sniffed. “Eloped. I don’t know what the world is coming to.” She shook her head, and started back toward the front door. “You’re not still planning to catch a flight out of here tonight in this weather?”
“I’m counting on it.”
Dixie made a clucking noise, then opened the door.
“Maybe he’ll reveal himself today.”
Dixie stopped. “Who?”
“Your secret admirer.”
The woman’s brows pulled together. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Then she chuckled at herself, gave a little finger wave and walked out the door with a sway to her hips.
Faith smiled. Stacy and Ted, Jamie and Dev, Dixie and her secret admirer. Love was definitely in the air.
Apparently, she was immune to the airborne contagion.
She sighed, turned the sign to Open, and prepared to help a lot of men make the women in their life happy.
Sales were good. In fact, sales were very good, and expedited, much to her delight, by the “wish list” hint cards that had been mailed as the database was updated. The men seemed grateful to have their choices narrowed, with the comfort of knowing their loved one would be pleased with any selection on the card. Mr. Willis and a hastily arranged temp came up to help her handle odd jobs, gift-wrapping and such. Despite the accumulating snow, she was continually busy showing pieces and carrying them to the register. She restocked trays of engagement rings several times. And answered the usual questions ad nauseam.
“How big is that one?”
“How much does it cost?”
“Do you have a financing plan?”
“Do you have a return policy?”
And she tried on ring after ring after ring after ring. An hour after closing time, she was down to one customer, and getting antsy that she would miss her flight if she didn’t leave soon.
“This is a lovely choice,” she said to the college-age man, and held out her hand for him to examine the solitaire.
“Her hand isn�
��t quite as big as yours.”
“Then the stone will look even larger,” she said by rote, curling her fingers under.
After a great deal of hemming and hawing, the young man said, “Okay, I’ll take that one.”
Faith had never checked out a customer so fast. She gave Mr. Willis a grateful smile and hug, said goodbye to him and the temp, and locked the door behind them. The other shops had already closed, and the mall was quiet, seemingly more so because the outside was blanketed by nearly a foot of snow. A snowplow drove by, and behind it, a line of taxicabs and sport utility vehicles. The scant flakes falling now were fat and feathery, but she feared the damage had already been done.
She returned to the store, and carried trays to the vault. She stared at the area on the carpet where she and Carter had made love, and vowed to set a file cabinet in that spot. After the jewelry was secure, she ran a tape on the register and prepared the day’s deposit for the drop box with a measure of satisfaction and relief. Sales had been even better than she’d expected, but enough to keep them running in the black until they built a more stable clientele? She didn’t know. But those worries would have to wait.
She picked up her phone and dialed the airline. “I’d like to check the status of Flight 401, the 9:00 p.m. flight from Chicago to Fort Myers.” Please, please, please.
Clicking noises sounded in the background. “I’m sorry, ma’am, that flight has been canceled. I can get you on a flight tomorrow afternoon.”
She closed her eyes. Could she not escape the perpetual loneliness of Valentine’s Day? “Do you have flights going anywhere south out of Chicago tonight?”
More clicking. “No, ma’am. Inbound flights only into O’Hare until further notice.”
She sighed. “Thank you.”
She hung up the phone and calmly talked herself out of tears. There was nothing to be done but go home and mark her least favorite holiday with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra ice cream.
It was becoming an unfortunate tradition.
She pushed herself to her feet and put on her coat, boots, hat and scarf. Trudging to the front entrance, she turned off lights as she went. She nodded to the new armed security guard—she’d hired a security firm to provide bonded, licensed guards around the clock.
The man unlocked the main entrance to let her out, and then bid her good-night. She pulled on her mittens, turned, and stared. She blinked, trying to absorb the scene in front of her: white carriage, driver, horses, man.
The man.
“Carter?” Her voice was muffled by the thick scarf she’d wrapped around her head.
He stood at the curb, dressed in a suit and tie and dress coat, holding a dozen snow-covered red roses and wearing an anxious expression. “It’s me, all right.”
She gestured to the carriage as gracefully as one could in twenty pounds of clothing. “What’s all this?”
He gave her a tentative smile. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to make up for last year.”
Her heart was running like a racehorse, but she crossed her arms. “Why would I let you?”
He ran a finger around his dress-shirt collar. “Because.”
“Because?”
“Because…I love you, Faith.”
She stood watching snow gather on his newly shorn dark head, and curbed the urge to run and fling herself into his arms. “Funny—I thought you were on the verge of proposing to another woman.”
He withdrew his wallet, handed the driver a bill and said something to him. The man took the bill and shook the reins, urging the horses forward. The clip-clop of their hooves hitting the snow-covered pavement carried in the moisture-laden air.
Carter stepped closer until he was only an arm’s length away. “I told him to drive around the block.”
She lifted her chin. “You were about to explain yourself, I think.”
He nodded. “I’m an ass.”
“Yes, you are.”
“And a moron.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I don’t deserve you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“But I’m begging you to give me another chance.”
She studied her mittens for several seconds, recalling all too clearly the humiliation she’d experienced at the station. “Why did you lie to me?”
He sighed, his breath frosty in the cool air. “When you walked out on me last year, the last thing you said was that I wasn’t commitment material.”
“You’re not.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You are now?”
“I think so.”
“You were saying?”
“I was saying that your words stuck with me, bothered me. When I saw you again, I wanted to make you think you were wrong about me, and I said the first thing that came to mind—that I was in a serious relationship.” He grimaced. “Then we started working together, and you offered to help pick out a ring, and I had to keep lying to maintain my other lies. It was stupid.”
“You made love to me under false pretenses.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry.”
She angled her head. “No, I don’t.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “I know you don’t believe me, but that night in the vault changed my life. The day you were at the station, I had decided to come clean with you about everything and see if you still had feelings for me.”
“Who said I ever had feelings for you?”
He balked. “Nobody.”
She pointed to the roses. “Are those mine?”
“Yes.” He shook them off, then handed them to her. “And there’s something else I’d like for you to have.” He withdrew a familiar blue ring box from his pocket, and her heart lodged in her throat.
“Carter.”
He got down on one knee a little awkwardly due to his wounded leg and the thick carpet of snow. She bit back a smile.
“Faith, this ring was meant for you. I love you, and I don’t want to waste any more time. Marry me, Faith. Or at least…think about marrying me.”
Tears filled her eyes, and her heart was ready to explode. She took a deep breath and said, “I can’t, Carter.”
His shoulders fell and he looked down.
“Unless…”
He looked up. “Unless?”
“Unless you give me your heart, willingly and completely.”
“It’s yours for as long as it’s beating,” he said earnestly. “Take all of me, all I have. Do you like dogs?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I can’t live like this anymore, Faith.”
“Like what?”
“Without you.”
She cleared her throat. “You mentioned a ring?”
He took the ring out of the box and held it up, dazzling under the streetlights. “Marry me, Faith.”
She struggled with her mitten for what seemed an eternity before she managed to get it off, then extended her shaking hand. “Yes, Carter, I’ll think about marrying you.”
His face lit up with a grin. He slid the ring onto her finger, a perfect fit. It was as if she were meant to have this ring.
He tried to stand, but apparently kneeling in the snow on the sidewalk had compromised his muscle control. She reached out and helped him to his feet after a bit of slipping and sliding. They laughed, and her heart was near bursting. He pulled down her scarf and kissed her soundly, holding her face between his hands. He wrapped his arms around her and rocked back and forth. She wanted to remember this moment forever, to pass along to the child or grandchild who would someday inherit the ring.
At the sound of the carriage approaching, they pulled apart and held hands until the driver stopped.
“Shall we?” Carter asked, then helped her into the carriage seat.
Faith couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t believe the turn her life had taken. Her heart was bursting with inexpressible joy. She settled into the seat and allowed Carter to spread a blanket over her knees. The carriage rolled forward, along th
e nearly deserted Michigan Avenue. The snow muffled any sounds of traffic and gave the streetlights glowing halos.
What a perfectly magical night. What a perfectly magical Valentine’s Day. The snow was falling faster now, and her cheeks were frosty cold. He put his arm around her, and she snuggled into his warmth. But she felt something on the seat under her hip and reached down to withdraw a bulky manila envelope that felt like it contained a videotape. “What’s this?”
He patted her hand. “Something to watch on our honeymoon.”
She pursed her mouth, intrigued, but was distracted by another thought that flashed into her head. “Oh, Carter, don’t let me forget to call a newspaper reporter first thing tomorrow.”
He kissed her temple. “Sure. Why?”
Faith leaned against his shoulder and sighed. “Something about a happy ending to a story.”
SHEER DELIGHTS
Leslie Kelly
To Jim & Lena Kelly. Thanks for raising such a
wonderful son. And Mom, thanks for letting me
“borrow” your big Italian family for this story.
And finally, to Vicki & Steph.
This has truly been an honor.
PROLOGUE
December 23, 2002
“NO. FOR THE LAST TIME, I am not buying your wife thong underwear for Christmas.”
Joe Santori didn’t go so far as to shake his finger in his brother Tony’s face, but he shot him a glare that said their argument was over. Tony had been needling him for twenty minutes about what Joe should purchase for his wife. Joe had drawn her name in the annual Santori family Secret Santa exchange.
“Come on, it’s not like I’m asking you to kill somebody. Just get her something hot—maybe a teddy—to make her start thinking that way again.” His brother frowned like a kid who’d had his favorite toy taken away. Tony, the oldest of the six Santori children, had been dubbed “the little prince” by their mother on the day of his birth, and had taken the title to heart. He wasn’t used to being told no. Joe mentally snickered. Apparently, lately, Tony’s wife had been the one saying it.
“Please? I’ll pay for it and I’ll throw in an extra hundred bucks. Do it ’cause I’m your big brother, huh, Joey?”