Closely Guarded Secret

by Money, Natalie

  “Oh shit. I’m sorry. We were supposed to get drunk together.” The thought of alcohol right now makes me queasy.

  “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I had quite a few but I, unlike you, can hold my liquor.”

  “You know I don’t usually get drunk and can hold my own. It’s all the stress from traveling. You know how I feel about flying.”

  “Yeah, plus Mr. Sex-on-Legs got you all worked up.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  I want to smack him for saying that but I don’t have the energy. “Why are you so chipper?” I want to steer the conversation away from Bryce.

  “Oh, no reason,” he sings the words.

  “Spill it, what’s going on?”

  “Well, after we got home last night and I was able to finally get you to your room and deposit you on your bed, my phone rang. It was Sampson.”

  “No. What did he say? What did you say? What did he want?” I ask with cautious excitement.

  “Girl, one question at a time. He said he wanted to meet up and talk. He misses me and thinks he made a mistake by letting me go.”

  Right then, my heart swells with relief and I’m glad Sampson wanted to open their lines of communication. “I’m so happy, that’s great news.”

  “Yeah, it is. Lets go eat. I’m starved.”

  #

  As I’m folding my last load of clothes and thinking about the last couple of days, I remember I want to talk to Dr. Hunter. It’s getting late and it’s Friday, so he may not be in.

  “Dr. Hunter’s office. May I help you?”

  “Hi, this is Alixandra Quinn. Is Dr. Hunter available?

  “One moment, Ms. Quinn. Let me check.”

  While waiting, I wonder why some companies go for Muzak and others classical for their hold music.

  “Ms. Quinn, he’s finishing up with a patient now. If this is an emergency, I could interrupt him, or he could call you back in about 15 minutes.”

  “No, it’s not an emergency. Please have him call me. Thank you for your help.”

  I pace the floor until the phone rings and I hear Dr. Hunter’s voice. “Ali, it’s been a while. How can I help you today?”

  “Hi, Dr. Hunter. Thanks for calling me back. I know it’s Friday and it’s late, so I really appreciate your doing this. I need to talk with you about something that’s happening in my life right now. Things were going okay until a couple of days ago.”

  “Oh? Well, let’s talk about it,” he says.

  “Monday I had to fly to New York for business and my connecting flight was in Houston.”

  Silence.

  “I tried to remember all the things you had taught me to control my fear, but I had a full blown panic attack. Even talking about it now, my stress level is increasing. Nothing I tried helped. I didn’t know what else to do. I was terrified.”

  “If the techniques you tried didn’t work, why didn’t you call me? I’ve always told you, in emergencies I’ll take your call.”

  “I know I should have called you, but I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t start to calm down until the plane was leaving Houston. I wear those scars close, and I’ve been forever changed by them.”

  “Yes, Ali, you’ve worn them close. You’ll always have the physical scars of your past, but there’s no comfort in carrying the emotional scars around with you. You and only you can decide when it’s time to take charge of these negative emotions and put them behind you. Let me ask you some questions. Was your fear that Thomas was in the airport?”

  “Yes,” I choke out. The mention of his name alone is enough to send me into panic mode.

  “Was he in the airport?”

  “No.”

  “Did he or any of his supporters know you were coming through Houston?”

  “No, but it brought everything back to the surface. Everything I’ve tried very hard to overcome. Just being back there . . . ” I trail off.

  “I know being there was a major trigger for you, but you own all of the tools and techniques to dispel these demons from your life. Is there some reason you’re not using these tools and techniques? Is there a reason you aren’t admitting to yourself, or to me, why you want to hang on to these emotions? How long has it been?”

  “Ten years.”

  “Ali, do you know the strongest human emotion is love - to love and be loved? Are you using these negative emotions to shield yourself from loving or being loved?”

  I gulp and I choke as I think about that. I decide to tell him about my encounter with Bryce. When I finally regain my voice, I say, “There’s something else I want to talk to you about. Something else happened and I am confused about how I feel about it.”

  “Oh?”

  “I met someone while I was in New York. Actually, he happens to live in San Francisco and was one of the subjects I was photographing.” I go over what happened before the photo shoot.

  “Talk about why this confuses you.”

  “I’m confused about how I feel when I’m around him. He’s a frustrating, arrogant, self-centered, egotistical man. He can also be a kind, caring, comforting, gentleman.”

  “Okay, but I’m still not hearing why this confuses you.”

  “When I’m around him, I get flustered. I can’t talk. My brain stops working. I haven’t had these emotions since . . . actually, I’ve never had these emotions.”

  “I see. It seems to me what you described is a completely normal reaction of a person who is attracted to another.”

  “It is?”

  “Do you feel it’s wrong to be attracted to him?”

  “Yes. No . . . oh, I don’t know. I get so discombobulated around him. It drives me crazy.”

  He lets out a little laugh. “It sounds as if you’ve taken your first step toward discarding the shield we were talking about. This is a big step toward your well being.”

  “In New York, he was so . . . ” I tell him what transpired after the photo shoot.

  “What I’m hearing you say is he’s obviously attracted to you and you seem to be attracted to him. He sounds like a man who knows what he wants. Now you have to ask yourself what you want.”

  “What does that mean? How could he know what he wants after only one meeting?”

  “Some men play the field and others go for what they want. He’s intrigued by you, by the sounds of it.”

  I tell him how Bryce acted on the flight in contrast to how he acted at the airport, hoping that he’ll see how “Jekyll/Hyde” Bryce is and warn me to stay away.

  “He sounds like someone who saw another person in distress and knew she needed help. Can you accept that for what it is?”

  “Yes, I can, but it’s like everywhere I turn since I’ve been back, there he is. I don’t want to have anything to do with him,” I say in my most matter-of-fact tone.

  “I hear you say the words, but I don’t hear the conviction in your voice. Do you think you’ll see him again?”

  At that moment, I remember I’ll see him again at the photo shoot for The Bridge, which reminds me I need to let Jodi know I’ll help with it. “Yes, I’ll see him at a photo shoot for a featured story in our magazine.”

  “I would say this is a good thing. It sounds like he challenges you and I think that’s exactly what you need. You’re the only one who can change your outlook and decide to take that first step and open yourself up to the possibility of having an emotional relationship with someone.”

  My head is spinning. “I don’t believe a relationship is something he would be interested in. I don’t know what to feel about all of this.”

  “Since the strongest emotion is to love and be loved, don’t you think he would have that emotion too?”

  I pause and think about this. “I don’t know.” I answer truthfully.

  “Why don’t you try believing him? I know trust is a huge issue for you, but you must make it over that first hurdle and this sounds like someone you might take that first step with. He’s
there, and he’s obviously attracted to you. Men are simple creatures. As for love, we usually don’t over-think things, or create problems that aren’t there.”

  Am I creating a problem that doesn’t exist? I’ve never had a man approach me like he has before or make me feel the way I do when I’m around him. Am I over thinking this? I ask Dr. Hunter, “What if I do give him my trust and he betrays it? What do I do then? I don’t know.”

  “That’s just it. You don’t know and you will never know if you don’t at least try.” He continues, “You’re a strong, bright and confident woman who has taken charge of her own life and destiny. What you’re feeling now is normal. What matters is what you want in life and how you handle yourself to get the results you desire.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Hunter. I do feel better now. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “I hope you’ll consider the benefit to yourself of taking this kind of chance.”

  “I’ll give it some thought.” Those words scare the hell out of me.

  #

  It’s a cool, crisp evening, and we have all the windows open to let in the fresh air. Steven and Sampson are going out to dinner to talk since there’ll be fewer distractions that way. I’m looking forward to some quiet time, a good soak in the tub followed by curling up with a good book.

  “Okay, Ali, I’m out.” Steven sounds hopeful and anxious.

  “You’ll be fine and the two of you’ll work it out. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have called.”

  “I hope so. I love him . . . ” He trails off, not needing to finish his sentence.

  “I know you do and I hope those are tears of happiness I see in your eyes.”

  “They’re tears of many emotions.” It’s as though he’s processing them all at once.

  “You better go. You don’t want to be late and have him think you’ve changed your mind.”

  “You’re right. Don’t wait up,” he says with a wicked but hopeful tone.

  CHAPTER 8

  Finally, I’m alone – me and my thoughts. Eyes closed and head resting against the back of the tub, I absentmindedly trace the scars across my abdomen. During the last ten years, the smaller ones have faded, but the two large ones still have their angry, raised edges. The ones on the underside of my arms have also faded, along with the one on my palms. I usually don’t think back on that time, but the stopover in Houston, has brought the reason I have them to the surface. They’re a part of me; wounds from a battle I survived. Barely. I need to clear my thoughts and enjoy soaking in the warm lavender scented water. Inhale cleansing breaths and exhale all negativity. My eyelids grow heavy as my body and mind relaxes.

  “Why are you doing this Thomas? Oh god, no. Please stop…don’t.” Somebody help. Help me.

  Is that screaming? I jerk awake, my frantic arms splashing water over the side of the tub. My heart is pounding. My eyes are wild. Every muscle in my body is tense. My breathing is heavy. Whatever woke me, I’m thankful for. I look around, taking in my surroundings. After I’m sure I’m safe and at home, my body slowly stops shaking and my heart starts to beat in a normal rhythm

  #

  I make sure all the doors and windows are locked before retrieving the bottle of wine from the fridge, and pour myself a bigger than usual glass. Letting out a long, deep breath, I get busy checking emails. A few minutes later, my phone rings, but the caller ID shows unknown and I never answer those calls.

  I check and see I have a couple of voice mails and a missed call from Jodi. A new email message pops up and as I click on it, I can’t believe what I’m seeing -- it’s from Bryce Steede. How in the hell did he get my email? My stomach flutters and I feel flush. I want to read it but I’m apprehensive. My fingers hover over the keyboard and drum against the keys. Screw it. I open the email and it’s just two words.

  ‘Forgive me.’

  What? He hasn’t done anything to be forgiven for. Has he? I decide to check my voice mails, starting with the latest one from Jodi: “Hi, Ali. I know you’re recouping from your trip and I want to hear all about it. However, I should warn you about something first. Mr. Steede called the office today and insisted he needed to get in touch with you, something about the upcoming shoot? I wasn’t available, but Trina, my new hire, gave him your number and email address. I wanted to give you a heads up. Hope you’re having a great evening and we’ll talk on Monday.”

  Oh. So that explains Bryce’s cryptic email. Jodi doesn’t answer when I call her back. Noticing I have another message, it’s from Bryce. I close my eyes and inhale deeply as I listen.

  “Ms. Quinn, I hope you don’t get too angry with your assistant for giving me your contact information, hence my email to you asking for your forgiveness. I need to talk to you about what happened yesterday at the restaurant. I feel I owe you an explanation.” He leaves his number. Of course, he was the ‘unknown.’ People like him don’t have public numbers.

  He doesn’t owe me an explanation for anything. Should I call and listen to what he has to say? Do I want to know what he has to say? I don’t know why, but yes, I do. His message piqued my interest.

  I load up on more wine before making the call, bringing the bottle with me. Listening to the message again, nothing in his voice, just like his expressions, gives anything away. I take a deep breath and dial. He probably won’t answer. It’s Friday night, and I’m sure he has someone’s legs draped over his shoulders right now.

  After a couple of rings, I decide I should hang up. Then I hear his voice on the other end. It takes me a minute to determine it’s not his voice mail. “Bryce Steede,” he answers in his deep, authoritative voice.

  “Mr. Steede. This is Alixandra Quinn. I understand you need to speak with me about the upcoming photo shoot?” I’m going to keep this professional.

  “I’m glad you called. Please, call me Bryce. I do need to speak with you but not about the session. Didn’t you get my message?” He sounds confused.

  “Yes, I got your message. Since this isn’t about the photo shoot, I don’t know what we have to talk about.” As I say it, I’m curious to know the reason for his call.

  “What happened yesterday with Mara, won’t happen again. She came to the airport after I told her not to and I’m not in the habit of creating a public scene.” He sounds apologetic as he continues, “I told you yesterday why we were at the restaurant and I’m guessing from your reaction at the valet, you assumed we left together. We didn’t.” I don’t know why but relief radiates throughout my whole body at his confession. I have the need to remain cautious though.

  “Mr. Steede, what you do is your business and doesn’t concern me and you certainly don’t need to explain yourself.” As I say it, I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. Why does he have this effect on me? It must be the wine.

  “Ali, I feel I do. I’m cutting to the chase, here. I want to see you again and need you to understand I’m not with her. I’d like to take you to dinner. I’ve been thinking of you ever since seeing you at the charity function. Then meeting and talking with you in New York, and flying with you yesterday, I can’t get you off my mind.” Not at all the reaction I would expect from a CEO. Behind that title though, he’s still a man.

  “Mr. Steede, you were more than kind on the plane, but that’s as far as it goes for me.” I’m not in the habit of going out with men so they can carve another notch in their bedpost. I’ve seen the pictures of him out and about with several different women. Hell, I’ve taken many of them.

  “I know it’s short notice, but I want to see you. How about tonight?” It’s obvious he didn’t hear one word I said. I think I’m trying his patience. He’s determined to get what he wants.

  “I’m already in for the night and don’t feel like going out. Look, why don’t you call one of your many companions because I’m sure they’d be more than willing to drop what they’re doing and run to you, just to stroke your ego. Which by the way, doesn’t seem like it needs much help.” I cla
sp my hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I said that.

  “You’re right, I could call any number of women and they’d all be more than willing to come over right now, but that’s not what I want.”

  “I’d say at least thirty-one,” I mumble out loud, not meaning to. Damn. I’m not about to reveal that my secret nickname for him is Thirty-one, and all his women are Flavors.

  “What does that mean?” His words are clipped and I can tell he’s irritated.

  “Nothing,” I say, cursing myself again. I take another big gulp of wine. “Plus, I don’t think going out with you is a good idea.”