Ring of Truth

by Ciji Ware

  She stared into the medicine cabinet mirror at her tousled head of shoulder-length, ebony hair and the royal blue eyes that distinguished her “Black Irish” ancestry, and wondered how, at thirty-three, she’d somehow lost her sex appeal? She glanced through the half-opened door at Charlie lying, face down, his head buried beneath his pillow. She realized, with a start, that they hadn’t made love in—what? A month? Two? Could it be since Charlie first mentioned the possibility of selling CookChic to LifestyleXer, a deal that now sealed their joint fate?

  That was it!

  They’d ceased being intimate almost three months ago, right after all the negotiations to sign over their start-up to the bigger company began, and their new boss, Beverly Silverstein, insisted they make a move to San Francisco. What had appeared a solid personal-professional relationship between Charlie and her just seemed to unravel.

  Kerry searched her memory for the exact moment it all seemed to go awry. Perhaps it was when her expression disclosed her dismay about the “offer they couldn’t refuse”—moving to San Francisco.

  At first, she’d been as excited as he was at the prospect of making some serious money for the first time in her life. But then, the thought of leaving her family, and—most of all—Angelica, now that she was both widowed and childless, plus the reality of the increased workload of writing more daily posts, along with supervising an army of bloggers around the country, began to weigh on her, and she’d summoned the courage to voice her misgivings.

  “Look, Charlie... this offer sounded pretty great, at first, but when you really look at what our new bosses want from us—their demands are huge, and besides, it’s really pushing me farther and farther away from what I love: which is making food, not writing about it!”

  Charlie had been angry when she’d pointed out these negatives and responded, thin-lipped, “Look... you don’t have to do this, you know. We can tell Beverly you just want to do your little blog from New York, and I’ll recruit and manage the other blog teams from out there. We’d have to adjust the fifty-fifty deal between you and me, but—”

  “You?” Kerry challenged, hurt he’d dismiss their relationship so casually. “You’ve never written or edited a piece of copy in your life.”

  “Exactly!” he’d replied. “See how you’re about to screw up everything? If you really want to grab that brass ring, Kerry girl, you’d better suck it up and head west to the new Gold Rush going on out there in Silicon Land.” When she’d remained silent, he’d grown impatient. “It’s only for two years, for God’s sake! Once the stock goes public and we vest, you’re free to live wherever you damn please!”

  “Can’t we just say no to moving out there? Do it all from New York... and yes, I could use your help recruiting new bloggers!”

  She could tell that Charlie had become even more exasperated with her, but he’d simmered down and merely gave a slight shrug of his black, T-shirt clad shoulders.

  “Well, if you don’t show them your good faith with the acquisition of CookChic before the company goes public, your not moving to company headquarters could actually be a deal-breaker... and wreck things for both of us.”

  Recalling the conversation, now, only made her feel worse, so she turned on the water in the bathroom sink and began to scrub her face.

  She’d ultimately come to realize that for Charlie, it was all about the score... the “Big Bucks,” as he always termed it. And it didn’t really seem to matter to him how he or she got to the big pay-off. Or, in her case, whether it felt right or made her happy. Just that he put a notch on his dot-com belt and that she was dumb not to do the same.

  To be fair, she conceded silently, leaning over the bathroom sink to brush her teeth, Charlie Miller had taught her everything she knew about social media and building a business from scratch. She should at least give the guy some credit for that.

  “Hey, you might eventually have enough money to invest in your own restaurant, kiddo!” he’d said, once the discussion was over and she’d agreed on the move. “Or you can buy out your mom and dad so they can retire”—though Charlie knew perfectly well that being partners with her brothers, Liam and Connor, at a beer and grill joint was not exactly what she had in mind.

  Heaving a sigh for all the other things she hadn’t said to Charlie to make a more convincing argument about her emotional obligations to Angelica and the other good reasons for remaining in New York, Kerry resignedly applied her lipstick and a touch of mascara to her already dark lashes. She donned the clothes she’d laid out to wear on the plane and headed through the bedroom with her remaining toiletries to pack them in her suitcase waiting in the living room.

  “Charlie... wake up,” she called over her shoulder. “The car will be here in twenty minutes.”

  By this time, Charlie had flopped over on his back, the overnight stubble on his slack jaw making it appear as if he hadn’t washed his face in a very long time. His thinning brown hair had been flattened against his skull by the pillow he’d slept under, revealing a receding hairline that would be a serious detriment, one day, to his rather ascetic good looks.

  “C’mon!” she repeated. “Up-and-at-’em. California here we come, right?” She was startled by her sarcastic tone. She was starting to sound just like Charlie.

  Not good, she thought glumly.

  She tucked her cosmetic bag into her suitcase and then spotted the airplane boarding passes Charlie had printed out after she’d gone to bed. She opened her purse to stow them where they’d be easily accessible and noticed the vintage leather ring box her godmother had given her, wedged next to her wallet.

  She could hear Charlie pad toward the bathroom and soon the water was running in the shower, full blast. Meanwhile, she slowly lifted the box’s lid and withdrew the Claddagh ring, her breath catching as she read the inscription engraved inside the gold band.

  Know Thy Heart.

  Tucked tightly against the red silk lining inside the box lid was a small, yellowed piece of paper that she unfolded, revealing a message penned in spidery script.

  Be brave!—for the ring of truth will test you. Once on your finger, its power to speak endures but seven days. Listen and learn, lest you lose its wisdom and your heart’s desire. When seven days pass, prepare to give the Claddagh as a gift. Once her face you see, you’ll know the one who must the ring receive. On her bestow the ring of truth...

  Kerry stared at the ring as she slipped it from its silk nest and onto her finger. Despite the jewelry’s age and what the metal must have been subjected to on 9/11, its surface remained smooth and unblemished and the gemstone in the perfect shape of a heart. She’d put it on her right hand with the point of the heart facing outward—the age-old Irish symbol for an unmarried person who was “open to love.” Within seconds, an odd tingling began to radiate up her arm as she vaguely heard Charlie humming off-key in the bathroom.

  Is Charlie Miller open to love?

  Startled by the suddenness of this thought, she stared at the heart-shaped emerald, but the gemstone remained its lovely green hue. Apparently, she thought with a cynical grimace, the ring hadn’t warmed up yet.

  Tucking the empty ring box back into her purse, she noticed Charlie’s laptop sitting on his suitcase, its battery charger plugged into both the computer and the wall. When she reached to unplug it for him, inadvertently touching the keyboard, the screen sprang to life. A glowing page from his Inbox displayed a long series of emails with the same name repeated nearly all the way down the page. Why were there so many communications these last days in New York from b.silverstein at lifestylerXer dot com that Kerry had never been copied on?

  Beverly Silverstein was the executive that had let them know that closing their deal was on shaky grounds unless they agreed to move out to California until the public stock offering was final and their shares in the company fully vested.

  Kerry was curious why it would have taken so many emails to Charlie to convey the facts they’d already agreed to? Or were there other elements of
the new relationship between their buyer and CookChic she should have been told about? She would have been embarrassed to admit to Angelica that she’d left working out the details of their deal to Charlie and their lawyer—his lawyer, actually—and now she regretted not knowing much about the contract she’d signed.

  Click on that name... the last entry at the top of the page...

  Kerry heard her own sharp intake of breath and glanced down at her right hand. The emerald had taken on a glowing, pulsing opalescence, and a strange warmth had begun to spread up her right arm.

  She shifted her gaze to Charlie’s laptop and obediently clicked on the most recent email. A message instantly displayed across the screen, its date and time confirming that it was sent late the previous night.

  Charlie Boy...

  One last thought before u go to sleep... I cannot believe u will actually arrive in San Francisco tomorrow afternoon! Have u told KH yet? I’d just as soon have that dealt with b4 u walk into the Howard Street offices, please.

  I’ll have someone from r HR staff sit her down as soon as she is assigned her cubicle and explain how things r to b...

  Meanwhile, lol & xoxo

  Beverly

  Kerry tore her gaze from the laptop as she heard Charlie’s footsteps heading out of the bathroom. A jumble of emotions swinging wildly between suspicion, shock, and embarrassment for being caught reading somebody else’s email propelled her across the living room to busy herself zipping up her carry-on bag.

  Charlie called out, “You left a lipstick on the sink. If you want it, better come get it.”

  “Yeah. Right. In a minute.”

  Tell him what you’ve seen!

  She didn’t have to look at the Claddagh ring to know where that thought came from, but a quick peek confirmed it. The emerald stone now glowed a pearly white.

  Then another notion floated through her head. Perhaps she was totally reading too much into that email—and only imagined that the ring had changed color since the stone had resumed its deep green hue once again. And she would have given anything to have had the time to click on some of b.silverstein’s previous missives before launching any accusations at her lover and business partner. Didn’t half the universe sign off “lol” and include the shorthand for “hugs and kisses?”

  Charlie appeared at the doorway to the living room just as the laptop’s screen reverted to sleep mode.

  “C’mon!” he demanded, irritation lacing his words. “Let’s move it! I just got a text that the car service is waiting downstairs. We can’t be late this time, Kerry!”

  Kerry raced into the bathroom to collect her last personal possession, chucked it into her purse, and rode in silence to the ground floor.

  Don’t shoot yourself in the foot, Kerry. You’ve got a lot riding on whatever you decide to do... keep your mouth shut until you’re sure you know what’s going on...

  Then a louder, more insistent voice in her head declared:

  Don’t be daft! You know what’s going on!

  ***

  Kerry spent the entire early morning, five hour and fifty minute flight to California pretending to be asleep while her mind was whirling with a variety of scenarios about what all those emails from Beverly Silverstein meant—and none of her conclusions were good.

  The central question spinning around in her head was their boss’s query: “Have you told KH yet?” And why was the tone of the email so chummy? No... intimate, which was odd, given that Charlie had rarely mentioned the woman’s name, once their deal papers had been signed. And what, exactly, was LifestyleXer’s Human Resources Department going to inform Kerry about “how things are going to be?”

  Even when she roused herself to pick at the pre-packaged airline fare of crackers and cheese, her frosty silence had the effect of keeping her seat companion mum until a sleek Lincoln Town Car, sent by their new employers, pulled up to the curb just as they came out of the Virgin America baggage area at San Francisco Airport.

  Kerry watched silently as the limo driver loaded their luggage into the trunk. With the three-hour time change, it was just past ten in the morning and she was vaguely aware of the mild December sunshine freshened by a breeze off kidney-shaped San Francisco Bay which they’d flown over on their approach to the airport. They were barely settled into the luxurious black leather seat when Kerry uttered words that she’d been dreading to say all day.

  “You need to know that your computer was still turned on this morning and I saw all those emails from Beverly Silverstein.”

  Even in the dim light inside the car with its smoke glass windows, Kerry could see Charlie literally blanch.

  Before he could respond she continued, “What is it she wanted you to tell me before we arrived at the LifestyleXer office today?”

  Charlie’s jaw clenched. “I don’t exactly appreciate you snooping through my emails!”

  Kerry was amazed how calm she felt and how steady her voice sounded in the hush of the back seat.

  “Only one email,” she corrected him. “I accidentally bumped your laptop and a full page of entries came up from her, so I clicked on the last one she sent you last night. What did that women mean about ‘how it’s going to be?’ What gives, Charlie?”

  “You had no right to read my private mail—”

  “What gives, Charlie!” she repeated more sharply.

  “What gives?” he mimicked her. “What gives is... it’s over.”

  “What is?”

  “Us. You and me.” He was watching her closely to gauge her reaction to this bombshell. “Be honest, Kerry... we both know it’s been over for a while, now.”

  She gave a small shake of her head.

  “No, I did not know it was over,” she said, her calmness suddenly evaporating. “I just began to feel something was rotten in Denmark... or should I say rotten on West End Avenue!” She seized her handbag and shoved it as hard as she could into his narrow chest. “You bastard!” she cried. “This deal would have gone through whether I moved out to California or not!”

  “Not true,” Charlie replied coolly, placing her handbag on the floor of the limo. “My deal wouldn’t have gone through, according to Beverly, because you’re the so-called ‘talent’... the hot-shot blogger. I’m just the tech guy, and techies are a dime a dozen out here. She and I... well, she said the only way I was guaranteed a fifty-fifty position in this thing was if her boss thought you and I both wanted to be part of the west coast company. She let them think... that without me, they couldn’t have you.”

  Charlie was looking amused now, as if he was proud of how he’d pulled off the charade that had turned her life upside down.

  “So you and Beverly are... already acquainted with each other, am I right?” she said, stating the obvious with a biting sarcasm she’d learned from the man who’d betrayed her in such colossal fashion.

  “Yeah. Beverly and I hooked up again on Facebook a couple of months ago after not seeing each other for years since Bronx Science, back in the day. She’d... well... apparently she—”

  “Had the hots for you in Coding 101,” Kerry interrupted. “Spare me the boring details of this pathetic romance. The point is you used me to get a half of what I could probably have gotten on my own, and then didn’t even have the decency to tell me you were pretty much faking our little toe-dance the entire time we were working and sleeping together, correct?”

  “In the beginning, I thought you were pretty cool, you know?” he replied with a shrug. “Different, you know, from my usual type. But I got tired hearing about the great tragedy of 9/11 and your poor, downtrodden Irish and Italian relatives, and how obsessed you are with cooking only ‘healthful, local, sustainable’ food, you know what I’m saying? Frankly, all that stuff got kinda old.”

  She ignored the barbs that she knew, somehow, he was employing to insult and denigrate her, thereby giving him the upper hand. Oddly, knowing it was over with Charlie Miller produced a strange sense of relief. Even so, what a lying son-of-a-bitch!
<
br />   In a low, angry voice, devoid, now, of the slightest hint of tears, she said, “And your usual type is your duplicitous little lab partner who’s become an ace exec in the digital frenzy out here—and a convenient stepping stone to Silicon Valley for your next big score? Nice.”

  “Hey, look, Kerry—” he began, but she hardly heard him.

  “And what if I tell Ms. Silverstein’s boss what you two have cooked up here? That she just made you part of the package so she could get her old Bronx boyfriend back?”

  Charlie paused and she could tell he was choosing his words carefully.

  “Listen, Kerry,” he said in a conciliatory tone, “sure... I should have told you that the thing I once had with Beverly had heated up again, but when she read your blog and thought that CookChic was a perfect acquisition for her company and a way for her and me to be together—giving all three of us a pretty big boost, by the way—I figured it was cool since you and I would both make a nice chunk of change, and—”

  “That is just crap, Charlie Miller!” she exploded. “You figured you’d get me out here so you wouldn’t miss out grabbing that proverbial brass ring you kept talking about. I should have known you were a taker from the shitty way you treated Joe and Sally at our old office. Why should I be any different, except as your ticket west?”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” he countered. “You didn’t know the first thing about promoting yourself as either a chef or a food expert, and you knew less than zero about driving the kind of traffic you’re now getting on that blog, thanks to me! I’ve given you the chance to make a half million bucks or more so you can write any ticket you want in your precious food world, so don’t make me the villain here!”

  “You’re not worthy of being a villain,” she retorted. “You barely rise to the level of creep.”

  Kerry could see that Charlie was genuinely shocked to hear his usually polite and well-behaved former girlfriend lash back so effectively. But by this time, her initial outrage had morphed into deadly calm.