“Monitor the situation and make other travel arrangements for the return trip home if needed. I want to be back no later than eight o’clock Friday evening.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you have time to arrange the delivery that I emailed you about this morning?”
“Vivian will be setting it up this afternoon,” Hale informed me. “You should get an email confirmation as soon as it’s received.”
“Excellent. Oh, and I meant to ask you. How is your mother settling in?”
“Very well. I appreciate your help to secure her placement. After the fall she took, I can rest easier knowing that she’s getting the proper care. Thank you again.”
I acknowledged his gratitude with a nod, glad that things had worked out. Before reaching the age of sixty, Hale’s mother was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. It had come as quite the blow to my security detail, and when I heard that he was unable to afford the cost of a reputable nursing facility, I immediately made calls to get her the best care in New York and covered the expenses. Hale protested of course, but I would hear none of it.
The pilot came over the intercom system, interrupting our conversation to let us know that it was almost time for take off. I settled into my seat and looked out the window. Cumulus clouds dotted the bright blue sky, making it hard to imagine that we were under a severe storm alert.
I heard the soothing hum of the plane engine as it came to life and I rested my head back with the hopes of catching a quick snooze on the flight. My mind quickly filled with images of Krystina.
I wish she had agreed to come with me.
I opened one eye to look at Hale. He sat across from me, already engrossed in the New York Times.
Hale accompanied me on nearly all of my business trips. He was a good traveling companion, and always willing to discuss whatever I had a mind for. Usually the topic was business.
That’s me. Always business.
“Hale, let me ask you something,” I said on a whim. He looked up from the newspaper, his expression attentive. “Do you ever regret not settling down?”
“Sir?”
Yeah, I know. The question sounds crazy to me too.
“I mean, with a woman,” I clarified. “Do you have any regrets?”
If he was surprised by my inquiry, he didn’t show it. Instead, he looked thoughtful.
“My mother always wanted grandchildren. When I think of how happy that would have made her, I do have regrets. However, now that she’s sick, it doesn’t really matter. Either way, I’ve never met a woman that I wanted to spend the rest of my days with.”
“Or maybe it’s because I keep you too damned busy to meet anyone,” I joked.
The corners of his mouth turned up in a rare smile.
“I believe that we all have our own calling. So far, mine has been the service of your employment and it has suited me well. If I were meant to settle down before now, I would have done so.”
“Hmm, perhaps,” I mused.
“Sir, permission to be frank?”
I laughed at his seriousness.
“You’re not in the military anymore. Speak what’s on your mind, Hale.”
His lips tightened into a thin line, as if he were concentrating on selecting the right words. He looked pointedly at me.
“Miss Cole is a lovely young woman. Don’t let her be your regret.”
****
I had deliberately packed my schedule, so that I had more than enough reasons to deny Alexander’s multiple requests for me to accompany him to Boston. Because of that, the next couple of days went by quick. I worked out my remaining shifts at Wally’s, went to my gynecologist appointment, and caught up on lost gym time. Keeping busy allowed me not to dwell on the fact that I felt unexpectedly lost without Alexander.
I didn’t like that I missed him and the time apart made be realize that we needed separation more often. I had become entirely too familiar with his presence. With that it mind, I didn’t answer his calls, and kept all communication to strictly texting. I knew that just the sound of his voice would cause me to fold.
By the time I arrived home Thursday evening, I realized that Alexander and I would have to negotiate some sort of compromise. If we continued the way we were going, I would end up with very little time alone, especially come Monday when I started the job at Turning Stone. I had never agreed to give up every night and weekend for him, despite his original wishes. Yet somehow, I ended up doing exactly that.
I went to the fridge to see what I could use to throw together a quick dinner for myself. Settling on a green salad with various fixings, I pulled out the ingredients that I would need. I went to work on slicing up chicken into thin strips and contemplated how I should approach the subject of maintaining my personal space with Alexander.
Boundaries. We need to establish some boundaries.
The sound of my phone vibrating on the counter tore me away from my thoughts. Setting the knife down, I picked up the phone to see that there was an incoming text from Allyson.
Today
6:34 PM, Allyson: My flight is delayed. What’s up with the weather in NY?
I looked out the window at the storm that was getting worse by the minute. Wind slashed at the windows and the rain appeared to be going sideways.
6:36 PM, Me: Tail end of a hurricane that moved north.
6:40 PM, Allyson: I’ll be lucky to get in by late Friday at this point.
6:41 PM, Me: Stuck in Paris. Gee, I feel so bad for you…
6:43 PM, Allyson: Ha-ha. Not funny. I’m miserable. It’s nearly 2AM and I’m holed up in an airport indefinitely.
I paused in my texting to glance at the clock. I had forgotten about the time difference.
6:45 PM, Me: Sorry, that sucks.
6:50 PM, Allyson: Can you reschedule our spa day? Maybe for Saturday if you’re free?
Alexander planned on taking his boat out on Saturday, but by the looks of the weather forecast, that wasn’t going to happen.
This is my chance at creating a little space.
It took me about a half of a second to make the decision.
6:53 PM, Me: Saturday it is. I’ll change the reservation.
6:55 PM, Allyson: Great! Hopefully I’ll be home by then. I’ll text if there’s another delay.
I looked up the number for the Mandarin. It was no trouble switching our reservation to Saturday. However, I knew that rescheduling with Alexander would not go off quite as easy and I dreaded the conversation.
I went back to preparing dinner, and layered arugula with sliced chicken, walnuts, and feta cheese. I was about to pour a balsamic over the top, when a knock at the door interrupted me.
My stomach grumbled in annoyance over the second disruption as I went to answer it. I peered through the peek hole to see who it was, but there wasn’t anyone on the other side of the door.
That’s weird.
I opened the door anyway and found that there was a flower delivery on the floor in front of the threshold. Unsure as to whether the flowers were for me or for Allyson, I picked up the beautiful arrangement of blue delphiniums and baby’s breath and brought them to the kitchen. Placing the bouquet on the counter, I removed the envelope from the vase. The card was addressed to me.
“I have found that among its other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver.”
- Maya Angelou
Looking forward to the weekend…
Alex
I smiled after reading the quote, appreciating Alexander’s attention to detail by citing my favorite poet.
I was about to put the card back into the envelope, when I noticed a blue velvet satchel tied around the neck of the vase.
What’s this?
However, I predicted the answer to the question almost as soon as I thought it. Knowing that Alexander wouldn’t take back his gift of the necklace, I had decided to forgo any sort of argument by simply leaving it on his dresser the morning that he left for Boston. Apparently, this was his
way of turning the tables on me.
Loosening the drawstring tie from the cloth bag, I dumped the contents into my palm. Just as I expected, out poured the platinum triskelion and chain. It was then that I understood the reason for the Maya Angelou quote – Alexander wasn’t only referring to the flowers, but to all of his gifts.
In the face of his sweet gestures, I couldn’t help but to feel a little sad about it. It would be so much easier if I could simply accept everything that Alexander had to offer, but I didn’t feel right about it. I sensed that he wanted more from me, but there were some things that I could not give – at least not without compromising my standards.
I’m at a crossroads.
One path would have me push Alexander away in order to create more distance between us. He may not like it, and it could potentially lead to our demise. It would be a risky choice, because I knew that I wasn’t ready for things to end.
But if I chose the other, I would become deeper involved. I’d expect more from Alexander, and would want him to be more open about the secrets that I knew he was carrying. From the history of his parents to his underground life, everything was a mystery to me. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to continue without answers. However, that path had its risks too, as it may force me to reveal my own truth.
The prospect of facing that pain frightened me, for giving up my secret would hurt me in ways that physical submission never could. The choice should have been an obvious one, knowing that I did not have the strength to handle the latter. However, I couldn’t decide what to do – for emotional surrender was my only true hard limit.
CHAPTER 37
The conference was going relatively well, even if it was boring as all hell, and I arrived back to my hotel room shortly after dinnertime. I considered going out to the Faneuil Hall area with Burke in search of a bite to eat, but decided on the solitude of room service instead. I didn’t feel like keeping company with my old friend, but rather wished that I had pushed Krystina harder about coming to Boston.
A short rap on the hotel room door signaled the arrival of dinner. I opened the door to find a pretty brunette balancing two platters. I was absently wondering how she managed to knock with her hands full, when I noticed that the trays were balancing precariously in her small hands.
I was dangerously close to wearing stuffed flounder and hollandaise sauce.
“Here, let me take one of those,” I offered, removing a tray from her wavering grasp.
“Thank you, sir,” she appreciated.
We both entered the room and set the trays on the small dinette set that was situated in the suite’s living room.
“Do yourself a favor and use a cart of some sort next time,” I told her, fishing out my wallet to get her a tip.
“Oh, yes,” she readily agreed. “I’ll make sure to use one the next time I come up. Will you be staying here long? Um, Mr.…”
She sounded giddy, almost school girlish. My head snapped up to look at her. I was all too familiar with the tone that she took. She was watching me with a pair of innocent doe eyes, but this girl was anything but naïve and was obviously looking to score more than a tip.
I pursed my lips in annoyance, choosing not to answer her. I handed her a twenty.
Be on your way, doll. That’s all you’re going to get.
“Thank you,” I told her, albeit dismissively.
She looked momentarily disappointed, but took the dismissal in stride and left me alone to enjoy my dinner in peace. The transparency of some women floored me at times, and I suddenly had a newfound appreciation for Krystina’s ambiguous personality.
I wasn’t impressed by the hotel fare. The flounder was over cooked and the sauce was flavorless. I began to regret my choice to not accompany Burke to one of the cities more notable seafood restaurants. As a swallowed the last bite of the rubbery fish, my phone pinged with the notification of a new email. I pushed the plate away and pulled out my cell.
It was a confirmation notice that the flower delivery was received. The time stamp on the message told me that it was just after seven, which meant that Krystina should be home from Wally’s.
I’ll try calling her now. Maybe she’ll actually pick up this time.
Exiting out of the email, I dialed Krystina’s number.
“Hello, angel,” I greeted after she answered. It felt so good to hear the sound of her voice.
“Hey. How’s the trip going?”
“Incredibly boring.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Next time, you’re coming with me,” I told her.
“We’ll see,” she murmured on the other end of the line. She seemed distracted. I had been so pleased that she finally answered her phone, that I hadn’t picked up on how distant she sounded until that moment.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Oh, and thank you for the flowers by the way.”
I noticed that she didn’t mention the returned necklace, but decided not to bring it up. I missed her and I didn’t want to spoil our conversation by risking an argument.
“Are you sure that you’re alright?” I asked again instead.
“I’m good, really I am. I’m just tired and a little sore. It’s been a long day.”
She does sound tired.
Perhaps that was truly all that was wrong.
“I thought Walter would have gone easy on you since today was your last day.”
“Oh, work was alright,” she assured me. “I’m just worn out because I was up early and at the gym by six o’clock this morning. I couldn’t get an evening appointment with the trainer that I like to work with, so I had to go early if I wanted to meet with him.”
Him?
The idea of Krystina having a one on one training session with another man made me uncomfortable.
Extremely uncomfortable.
Am I jealous? Since when do I get jealous?
“I didn’t know that you had a trainer,” I tried to say indifferently.
“It’s pricy, so I don’t do it often. But Eric is a good motivator and I needed him to get me back into a routine.”
Eric? So the asshole has a name.
I pictured Krystina in spandex shorts, possibly a sports bra. With her midriff slick with sweat and face flushed from exertion, she would have been a provocative sight to behold. Hopefully she had the sense to cover up with a t-shirt.
Either way, I didn’t like the situation one bit. I made a mental note to set Krystina up with my own personal trainer, someone that I knew and could trust to keep his sweaty paws off of her.
“Routine is good, but don’t over do it. You need to save some energy for the weekend,” I joked lightly, suppressing the uncharacteristic jealousy that wanted to come lashing out.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that – the weekend that is,” she said a little too quickly.
“What about it? I mean, I’ve been keeping up with the storm and I know that flights into New York have been delayed indefinitely. But I’ll make sure I’m back in time for the party at Murphy’s.”
“Oh, it’s not that. Although, I’m glad that you decided to come. This is about Saturday.”
“What about it?”
She went on to tell me about her planned girls day out and how flight cancelations forced them to reschedule for Saturday. Then she proceeded to talk non-stop about how poor the weather would be for boating, barely pausing to take a breath. She sounded nervous, almost as if she was afraid to tell me about the change of plans.
“I’m sorry. I know that I promised you the weekend,” she finally finished.
Amused by her ramblings, I decided to go easy on her.
“That’s fine. It’s only for the earlier part of the day. If you’d like, I could have Hale drive you and Allyson to and from your appointment.”
“Allyson would get a kick out of that for sure,” she laughed. And if I wasn’t mistaken, she almost sounded relieved.
“Consider it a done deal. Just em
ail me the reservation details and I will forward it on to Hale.”
“I’ll do it in the morning. Right now, I’m going to change into pajamas, eat my dinner, and then collapse on the couch. Maybe I’ll catch up on a few shows that I had set to DVR,” she considered.
“That sounds exceedingly dull,” I teased.
“Oh, not to me. A stormy night, house to myself…I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing.”
“I could think of a few things,” I said suggestively. I could hear rustling in the background. “What are you doing?”
“Exactly what I said I was going to do,” her voice was echoing, like she had switched me over to speakerphone. “I’m changing my clothes.”
An image of her slipping out of her bra and panties caused a stirring in my groin.
“What are you wearing right now?”
“Um, a tank top,” she said, sounding slightly confused.
“Anything else?”
“Just my…” she paused. “My underwear.”
Sweet Jesus…nothing but panties and a tank top.
I suppressed a groan as the image of Krystina’s lithe naked legs clouded my vision. I stood up and began pacing the room in an attempt to work off the restless energy that had suddenly come over me.
“Are you trying to torture me?” I asked.
I could hear her fumbling with the phone, switching it off of speaker mode.
“No, I’m not,” she tried to convince me. However, her words sounded raspy, a sure sign that she was connecting the dots and that her mind was beginning to gravitate to the same dark place as mine.
“I don’t believe you. In fact, I may have to leave Boston right now just to come home and punish you.”
“Oh, really?”
“You sound excited by the possibility, Miss Cole.”
“Maybe I am,” she teased.
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