by Kelley, HD
“Spencer!” I screamed instinctively, momentarily forgetting he wasn’t here, and about our pending divorce. I switched on the lamp, but when I looked back at the corner where I’d seen the shadow, there was no one there.
“It was just a bad dream,” I said out loud, hoping to calm my shaky nerves. “Just a stupid dream.”
I lifted my phone off the bedside table; 5:11 flashed on the screen. “Not again,” I sighed. “Not another sleepless night.” My nightmares had been sporadic at first but that was the third one I’d had in the past week. Dr. Leonard said the dreams were most likely being manifested by stress and had suggested I take a few days off to unwind.
“If you want to get rid of your nightmares you need to find the stressor,” she’d said. I knew she was right but with all the new clients I’d taken on this year, time off just wasn’t a possibility, which left me with Plan B. It wasn’t my ideal solution, as it required me to actually try to remember the dreams, but it was the only other suggestion she’d offered. I removed the spiral bound notebook from the bedside table drawer, flipped to the first blank page and started to write. All I’d managed to remember so far were a bunch of scattered thoughts but I kept doing it anyway.
Dr. Leonard’s instructions echoed in my mind. “You’re not writing sentences here, Izzy, just words,” she’d said. “Consider all your senses.” Dark. Cold. Pain. My body tensed as I remembered the pain and I dropped the pen.
“Breathe, Izzy,” I said out loud. Knowing I had to get through this, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The chanting of the bassoons and the barking of the tubas rang in my ears and I recognized it immediately. It was the first symphony I’d ever heard, Dreams of a Witches’ Sabbath. Spencer had taken me and my best friend, Valerie, to hear the Miami Symphony Orchestra not long after we met. Val had never shown much of an interest in classical music but she’d really wanted to come with us, and I hadn’t objected. She’d always been like a sister to me. We’d grown up in the same tiny town, attended the same high school and even the same college. It felt natural that she’d want to experience this with me too. And, boy, was it an experience. That night I felt music in a whole new way, far beyond the isolated upbringing of a rancher’s daughter. I was forever changed by the power, the emotion, the drama, the story without words.
Before going away to college my cultural experiences had been shaped solely by the events I’d managed to convince Jack Jones, my overprotective father, to let me attend while he worked the livestock auction at the Colorado State Fair. Most kids couldn’t wait for the annual event, but I hated the fair. It was a constant reminder that a cattle ranch was merely a business, and the cows I’d helped care for since their birth were our product, a product that would end up on dinner tables everywhere. The only thing that made it bearable was the hope of seeing a concert, a rodeo, an art show, or some hot new product exhibit. It had been my only window to the world for years.
That trip to Miami was full of firsts for me. My first symphony, the first time I’d had sushi, the first time I’d ever been drunk. Not to mention the first and only time I ever kissed a girl. The three of us never talked about that night again. The details of the whole crazy weekend were still a blur really, except for that amazing concert that reached all the way to my soul.
I shook my head. “Focus, Izzy,” I said out loud. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes once more, concentrating on smell this time. A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the smell: cigarettes, alcohol, and something else, a familiar sweet smell. I opened my eyes and scribbled down what I’d managed to remember then quickly stuffed the notebook back in the drawer, relieved to be done with that brutal exercise.
Every sore, aching muscle in my body objected as I climbed out of bed. I picked up the bottle of Advil and shook four pills into my palm this time. I popped them all in my mouth at the same time then took a long drink from the water bottle I’d brought upstairs with me last night.
Gingerly, I made my way to the bathroom to take care of a pressing need. After my hands were dried, I brushed my teeth, pulled my hair into a ponytail, all the while doing my best to ignore the dark circles that had formed under my eyes from the severe lack of sleep.
My body was too sore for a run this morning so I slipped on my robe and headed downstairs for some much needed coffee. Voices caught my attention as I neared the bottom of the stairs. Nervously, I wondered who it could be. Drew and Anna weren’t usually up this early and Spencer was in Chicago, wasn’t he? As I got closer to the kitchen I could clearly make out Anna’s voice, but the other one was still too faint. It sounded heavy, like a man’s voice.
As soon I stepped into the kitchen I froze. Spencer. He wasn’t in Chicago. He was here. My body tensed as images from last night’s dream flashed through my mind.
“It was just a bad dream,” I whispered, praying I was right. I wanted to ask Spencer when he’d gotten home but I was afraid I’d make a scene with the amount of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“Look who’s home,” Anna said, bringing my attention back to her. “He made my favorite breakfast too.”
Anna threw her arms around Spencer’s neck and began a barrage of kisses on his cheek. He tickled her until she finally stopped. The two of them laughed hysterically as if sharing in some private joke, typical for them really. Anna and Spencer had shared a special connection from the moment he first held her. She’d always been daddy’s little princess, and he treated her like one too.
I forced a smile in Anna’s direction as I tightened the sash on my robe, suddenly feeling underdressed in Spencer’s presence. When I looked up, I was relieved to find the two of them had returned to their conversation. I poured myself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the end of the breakfast bar, doing my best to hide my growing anxiety, desperately wanting to know when he’d gotten home.
“Mom!” Anna shouted. I looked up from my coffee. “I asked if you could drive me to school this morning.”
“Sure. But I’ll need to drop you off before eight.”
“I better hurry then. Thanks for breakfast, Dad,” Anna called out as she ran out of the kitchen.
I glanced at the clock on the stove. It wasn’t even six yet. Anna may have been in a hurry, but it wouldn’t take me near as long to get ready. There was plenty of time for me to get the answers I needed. “When did you get home?” I asked when I was certain Anna was out of ear shot.
“I’ve been home for hours, Bella,” Spencer said. He leaned toward me, his face inches from mine. “That was some dream you were having.” The smell of cigarettes and bourbon poured out of his mouth. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and a shiver ran down my spine.
The room started to spin, my nightmare suddenly feeling all too real. My stomach somersaulted and I sprinted down the hall toward the bathroom, barely making it before the contents of my stomach were violently expelled into the toilet. The pictures, those pictures, flashed through my mind like a twisted silent movie. Deep down I knew Spencer would never hurt me, but even still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of just how real my nightmare had been.
“You okay, Bella?”
“I’m fine,” I snapped. “And stop calling me, Bella.” The mere mention of that nickname made my stomach queasy recently, although I wasn’t entirely sure why. I pushed my way past him and sprinted up the stairs, not stopping until I reached the master bathroom.
Locking the door behind me, I buried my face in my hands and I collapsed on the floor. “Please, Lord, let it be a dream,” I cried. “They couldn’t be real. How could they be real?” I cried harder. Spencer wouldn’t hurt me. Not sweet, loving Spencer. Not the man who volunteered his time fundraising for Drew’s soccer club and Anna’s volleyball team, or donated his time to rebuild the no-kill animal shelter that hurricane Ivan destroyed, or spearheaded the holiday canned food drive every year.
No, but Spencer the sexual sadist might, my inner voice chimed in.
No, it couldn’t be him. Not the man w
ho thwarted every attempt for playfully rough sex. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he’d always say. Spencer never made me feel unsafe, not once in our nineteen year marriage. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
“Why is this happening?” I cried. “Why didn’t I believe him?” He’d insisted it wasn’t him in those pictures. He was so desperate for me to believe him but I’d filed for divorce instead. Maybe my nightmares weren’t dreams at all. Maybe the stress was too much for Spencer to handle and he snapped.
An overwhelming urge to get out of the house came over me. I pulled myself off the floor and into the shower. The hot water was soothing to my aching muscles, but there was no time for that now. All I could think about was getting as far away from Spencer as I could possibly get.
• • • • •
I grabbed my phone and purse off the bedside table then headed downstairs to collect the materials I needed for today’s team meeting. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I took my shoes off and slipped silently across the tile floor to my office. If Spencer was still in the kitchen, I certainly didn’t want him to hear me. After I’d collected what I needed, I sent Anna a quick text, telling her to meet me in the car. The sooner I could get out of the house the better. I reached for the knob leading to the garage, but it turned before I even touched it. I jumped backward and tripped over my own two feet, landing hard on my backside.
“Mom, are you okay?” Drew asked as he reached down to help me up.
I accepted his hand with both of mine and he pulled me to my feet. “Thanks,” I laughed, trying to play it off. “I’m fine.”
“Where ya headed so early?”
“I’m taking Anna to school then I have a meeting.”
“Anna can ride with me. You just worry about getting to your meeting in one piece.” He laughed now too. Drew enjoyed poking fun at me and my clumsiness, in a kind-hearted, with all the love in the world kind of way. Fortunately, neither of my kids inherited my propensity for accidents but rather Spencer’s athletic prowess.
“I have plenty of time. Plus, I already told Anna I’d drive her.” “Well un-tell her.” His smile faded. “If she’d get her license already she could drive herself. Now seriously, I’ll take her.”
“Alright, alright,” I said, holding my hands up in mock protest. “You can take her.” Really, there was no point arguing with him. They were headed to the same school, after all.
“Good. Now drive safe.” He wrapped me up in a tight hug, kissing my cheek before letting me go.
“Have a good day, Drew. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
As soon as I got in the car I locked the doors, just in case Spencer was lurking around the garage, and then called Anna to tell her about the change in plans.
“I’m trying to hurry,” she said as she answered the phone.
“Honey, Drew is going to take you. I hope that’s okay.”
“Actually, that works better. It’ll give me more time to get ready.”
I smiled as I imagined the stack of clothes Anna had already changed out of this morning piled high on her bed. “Have a great day, sweetie. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
When the security gate opened wide enough for my car to squeeze through, I hit the pedal, beyond thankful I’d managed to get out of the house without seeing Spencer again.
The drive to Pensacola gave me time to think, too much time really. Drew and Anna were graduating in June and Spencer would be moving out soon after. In less than two months my life would be forever changed, again. I’d been a wife and a mother for almost half my life and I wondered what I’d do now without either around to need me. It had been so long since I put myself first that I didn’t even know where I’d start.
Valerie would know where to start. She had always been the queen of “me,” refusing to be put second, no matter how many husbands it took to get what she wanted. The last time I talked to her she seemed happier than she’d been in a long time. Her new husband, Cody, also known as husband number four, was a successful finance manager and made a ton of money. Plus, he treated Val like a queen. That was all she’d ever really wanted, a man with more money than sense who would put her first no matter the cost.
Maybe we’d be able to squeeze in a girls’ weekend while she was in town for graduation. It’d give us a chance to catch up and I could finally tell her about the divorce. She would be mad I hadn’t told her sooner, but hopefully she’d understand why I couldn’t. It wasn’t like I got married without telling her, like she’d done to me, twice. Val had divorced her third husband before I even knew she had gotten remarried. To this day Val hasn’t spoken his name to me, referring to him simply as “husband number three.”
Traffic was heavy as I neared Palafox Street. A glance at the clock revealed it was twenty after eight and I was only five minutes from the office. The extra time would go a long way in helping me clear my growing to-do list. All the traveling I’d been doing lately had left me less time for paperwork and I was falling way behind.
My cell phone rang as I pulled into the parking garage. “Izzy James,” I answered in my professional office voice.
“Good…good morning, Mrs. James,” a shy voice I didn’t recognize came across the speakers. “This is Haley, ma’am, Mr. Howard’s new intern,” she said, saving me the trouble of asking.
“Welcome to Dimarco, Haley. What can I do for you?”
“Well, Mrs. James,” she fumbled the phone, “Jonathan isn’t here and your eight o’clock appointment is wondering when you’ll be in.”
“Eight o’clock appointment,” I thought to myself, searching my memory for details, coming up empty this time.
“I’m parking the car now, Haley.”
“Um…okay. Is that what you want me to tell Mr. Payne?”
“Alec Payne?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
I exhaled loudly, not even trying to mask my frustration. “Show him to the conference room and tell him I’ll be with him shortly.” I disconnected the call without waiting for her response. Banging my palms on the steering wheel, I screamed as loud as I could. As if my earlier nightmare and dealing with Spencer weren’t enough, this was exactly what I needed today. There went my plan of getting caught up on my growing pile of work. Now I had to deal with Mr. Control Freak.
A hot control freak, my inner voice added. He was wonderfully good looking, but that certainly wasn’t helping my mood at the moment.
I took the back stairs up to my office, hoping the exercise would cool my raging nerves. Unfortunately, my plan backfired as I grew more annoyed with each flight I climbed. The nerve of that jerk, he’d showed up without an appointment, and then told my bosses new intern I was late, for an appointment we didn’t have! By the time I opened the stairway door on the fifth floor my blood was boiling.
Jonathan handed me a caramel macchiato as I stormed past his desk. I accepted it with a forced smile even though I really did appreciate that he’d gotten it for me. “He said he made the appointment directly with you,” Jonathan said by means of an explanation for my early morning visitor, knowing all too well that I didn’t like to schedule meetings before nine.
“That’s right.” I took a slow sip of the coffee, not offering any further explanation. “Thanks for the coffee, Jonathan. Please tell Mr. Payne I’ll be five more minutes.” I walked into my office and collapsed on the sofa, slowly sipping the sweet concoction, taking deep, deliberate breaths between sips. I needed to regain my composure before even attempting to deal with Mr. Control Freak, no matter how long it was going to take for that to happen.
Fifteen minutes turned out to be the magic amount of time it took before I could force myself off the sofa. Flipping through the files on my desk, I pulled out Ultimate’s. With a final deep breath I tucked the file under my arm, pulled my shoulders back and glided down the hall to the conference room, ready now to take on the control freak that was waiting inside.
Chapter Five
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br /> I walked into the conference room where Alec had been waiting for the last hour. “Good morning, Mr. Payne.”
Looking up at me, he said, “Good morning, Ms. James.” That wicked grin crossed his face, making me blush. I looked at the floor, out the window, everywhere but at him until he stood and extended his hand.
Placing my hand in his, I expected a handshake but he lifted it to his mouth and kissed my knuckles instead. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Isabella.”
My insides quickened. I pulled my hand from his grip and walked swiftly around the table, intentionally taking a seat on the opposite side, safely out of his reach. I needed to squash whatever ideas he had gotten from our dinner and tour yesterday. Dimarco had strict guidelines on client relationships and I wasn’t about to break them to become Alec Payne’s latest conquest.
“Did we have an appointment, sir?” I asked, doing my best to maintain a sense of professionalism despite my overwhelming annoyance.
“Don’t you check your email?”
Seriously? my inner voice snapped and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. When exactly was I supposed to check email? He knew how late it was when I got in last night, and he was here before I even made it to the office.
Alec’s jaw tightened. “So, you did read it?” His harsh tone told me instantly what email he was talking about.
“Please don’t tell me you came all this way to discuss my views on the necessity of eye rolling.” I laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.
“That, plus any other unreasonable considerations of professionalism you may have.”
“You think I’m unreasonable?” I snapped, annoyed that he was wasting my time. “I’m not the one who boarded a plane and flew almost two hours to discuss whether or not eye rolling is an appropriate response to the ramblings of a control freak,” I shouted, surprising even myself with my boldness in front of a client.
Alec leaned back in the chair, folding his arms across his chest, the muscles in his jaw clinching. I maintained eye contact, unwilling to concede defeat this time. “Control freak?” he said, finally putting an end to the awkward silence.