She stared at the ceiling until the pressure subsided. The eastern sky grew light before she slipped into a restless sleep.
She slept less than an hour. Thoughts of Lona and Carol banged around inside her skull. It would be useless to try and go back to sleep. She took a hot shower and spent extra time on her makeup to hide the circles beneath her eyes.
She entered the kitchen to find Margaret in a tiff. I didn’t eat the sandwich, she groaned with a mixture of guilt and shame at the reason she had forgotten it. She decided to bluff her way through. “Good morning,” she called in a voice much cheerier than she felt. “Margaret, you were absolutely right.”
Margaret eyed her suspiciously. When Sandra failed to elaborate, her curiosity got the best of her. “And how might that be, lass?”
“You said all I needed was a good night’s sleep. After Lona
left, I went to bed and slept like a baby.”
“Then you’ll be a wantin’ breakfast?” Once again, Margaret had out maneuvered her.
“That sounds good,” Sandra agreed, trying to ignore the queasy toss of her stomach.
Margaret placed toast and a bowl of fruit before her. Sandra pasted a look of contentment on her face and pretended to study the newspaper while she forced herself to eat.
She chewed several antacids on her way to work. The food sat heavily in her stomach. It was time to call Dr. Rayburn. The heartburn would not go away, and the pains in her chest were occurring more frequently. I’ll call after this morning’s staff meeting, she promised herself. Dr. Ida Rayburn would make time for her.
Sandra heard Betty’s excited voice seconds before her office door flew open. Carol stormed in with Lynda Hopkins, a divorce lawyer who specialized in palimony cases.
“I’m sorry,” Betty said. “I tried to stop them.”
Sandra waved her off. “It’s okay, Betty. Hold my calls.” Betty nodded and cast a suspicious glance at the two intruders.
“So this is where the great Sandra Tate holds court,” Carol said gazing around Sandra’s almost utilitarian office.
Sandra realized Carol had never before visited her office. She wondered how many of her employees even knew she lived with a woman.
“It’s even worse than I ever imagined, but I’m not surprised.”
Carol cut into her speculation. “People like you never have any taste.”
Sandra glanced around her office. One side was taken up with a large drafting table and work center. Her walnut desk with its brown tweed side chairs sat in front of a large window from which she could see downtown Dallas. The sofa, two armchairs, and a long coffee table that served as her informal conference area completed the furniture of the room. A wide array of artwork from generally unknown artists decorated the pale beige walls.
She shrugged off Carol’s remarks and offered them a chair.
Lynda seemed somewhat embarrassed. “I’m sorry to have to do this here,” she told Sandra. “I usually prefer to meet in my office, but Carol has hired me to represent her.”
“Let’s get on with this,” Carol hissed. She studied her nails to avoid eye contact with Sandra.
Lynda sat her briefcase on her lap and removed a sheaf of papers. “Sandra, we’ve drawn up a financial …”
“Let me save you some time,” Sandra interrupted. “She’s not getting anything more than she’s already received.”
“See? I told you,” Carol shouted triumphantly at Lynda, who seemed shocked by Sandra’s response.
“Nothing.” Sandra turned to Carol. The tightness in her chest increased. She forced herself to take deep breaths before she continued. “For eight long years, I listened to you accuse me of being unfaithful, when apparently you were judging me by your own actions. I tried to encourage you to find something you liked to do and if Monday was any example, you obviously did.
You chose Ingrid Bennington, so go live with her. I’m not giving you another penny.”
“Ms. Tate,” Lynda prompted, assuming her lawyer’s stance.
“My client will be forced to take you to court.”
Sandra sighed. She had known Lynda Hopkins for ten years, and now they were opposing each other because of Carol’s greed. There was no way to explain to Lynda that giving in to Carol would result in a lifelong commitment of conceding to her demands. It would not stop with the first settlement. Carol would never be satisfied. She would always want more.
“Lynda, she’s free to do as she wishes, but I won’t willingly give her anything.”
“Sandra.” Lynda dropped the facade. “Having your relationship made public would hurt both of you. Why not listen to our proposal? It’s simply a matter of a yearly income. Once you hear our offer, I think you will agree it’s fair. Don’t you think Carol deserves something for the eight years she stood by you?”
“Stood by me! You make her sound like some fifties house-wife.” She glared at Carol. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what
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you did for me, earning you the right to be supported for the rest of your life?”
“I stayed home alone and waited for you to find time for me,”
Carol accused, as fake tears filled her eyes.
“You may have been home, but you certainly weren’t alone.”
“I got lonesome and made one mistake. If you came home as you should this never would have happened,” Carol sniffed.
“One mistake?” She held Carol’s gaze. “Would you like for me to name a few more of your mistakes, or would you prefer to spare the women in question? Trust me, Carol. If this goes to court, I won’t spare anyone.” She silently thanked Lona for the hint of Carol’s other indiscretions. She waited as Carol tried to decide if Sandra’s threats were bluffs. Sandra knew she was correct when Carol’s face grew red with anger.
“At least someone wanted me,” Carol hissed. “I knew all along you weren’t having affairs and do you know why?”
Sandra braced herself. She knew Carol was going to hit her where she would hurt the worst, her own insecurities.
“No one wanted you,” Carol taunted. “They never have and never will. Even your own mother didn’t want you.”
“Carol!” Lynda gasped.
Sandra reeled under the barrage as Carol continued. “The only thing you’ve ever been any good at is making money. You pathetic, low-bred bitch.” Carol spun on her heels and stormed out the door.
Sandra and Lynda sat in stunned silence. Each of them stared at the door Carol slammed behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Lynda finally mumbled. “She told me you were seeing other women and kicked her out with nothing.”
“Careful, counselor. That sounds like privileged client information,” Sandra whispered, willing the pain from her chest.
“Sandra, I’m really sorry. I never expected her to react this way. All those horrible things she said.”
“They’re all true,” Sandra said softly and closed her eyes, as the clamp around her chest tightened.
“Sandra, are you all right?”
Sandra opened her eyes and nodded, unable to speak around the emotional pain clogging her throat. “I’m fine.”
Lynda looked unconvinced.
“Really,” Sandra assured her, offering a weak smile. They remained silent for a long second before Lynda began to stuff the papers back into her briefcase.
“There are a couple of things she says she didn’t get,” Lynda said as she closed her briefcase.
“What things?”
“Her birth certificate and passport.”
Sandra nodded. “They are in the wall safe. I forgot them.
I’ll courier them over to you tomorrow morning.” She forced herself to stand. “I’m sorry to rush you, but I’m late for a staff meeting.”
Lynda nodded. “Tomorrow will be fine.” She closed her briefcase and stood. “I want you to know, none of this is personal.
I respect you and your commitment to the Dallas community.”
Sandra shrugged. “Tell C
arol if she insists on continuing with this, I’ll see her in court.”
“Sandra, I sincerely hope it won’t come to that,” Lynda said, as she turned and walked swiftly out the door.
Sandra shifted in her chair as one after the other of her board officers droned on about budgets and deadlines. Normally she would have been interested in the reports, but the pain in her chest was making it difficult for her to breathe. She groaned inwardly when Charles Carlton stood.
“I have four layouts to present. After we chose one I’ll provide you the scheduled release dates,” he informed everyone as he placed the first board on the easel.
Shocked, Sandra could only stare. Charles was presenting the same offensive layout of the young woman wearing the tool belt.
The layout she ordered him to get rid of. She was on her feet, aware of the shocked surprise of everyone in the room.
“Charles, I specifically told you yesterday I did not want this trash used to represent any aspect of Tate Enterprises. Would
you please explain to me why I’m seeing it again?”
“Sandra, I felt you weren’t being objective. I wanted to let the board decide.”
She glanced at each of the ten members seated around the table to see if any were in collusion with Charles. From their expressions, Sandra could tell they were as stunned as she was.
She turned to Allison and saw disbelief in her eyes as well.
Sandra’s anger with Charles flamed brighter.
She stalked around the table and snatched the offensive board off the stand. She folded the board in half over her knee and dropped it into a trashcan. “I told you yesterday to have a layout I could use today.”
To her surprise, he covered the distance to the trashcan in three strides and snatched the board out.
“This is good material and you won’t even give it a chance,”
he shouted. His breath came in short hard puffs as he attempted to smooth the creases from the board.
“It’s trash and I won’t have it,” Sandra shot back.
He poked her arm with his finger. “You’re too fucking dense to know …”
Gordon Wayne leapt from his chair so swiftly it toppled over.
“Charles!” he thundered. “In my office now!”
Charles reported to Gordon. Sandra knew she should let him handle it, but she could not get past the feeling of no longer being able to control even the smallest detail of her life. She raised her arm to stop Gordon. As she did so, her chest felt as though it ripped open. She fell backward from the impact of the pain. Her hands clawed at her chest as she gasped for breath. She tried to stand, but was unable to get her body to respond.
Allison’s face hovered above her. She was talking to her, but Sandra was unable to hear. She tried to speak. No sound came out. She heard a voice screaming for someone to call 911. People stared down at her; their voices receded to a hollow hum as the room darkened. I’m dying and I never got to live.
A steady series of beeps was the first thing she heard. She
opened her eyes to an array of monitors and Dr. Ida Rayburn’s calm, brown eyes. “You’re no angel, so I must be in hell,” Sandra joked weakly.
“Worse,” Ida returned, making a notation on her chart.
“You’re still alive. That means you not only get my bill, but my lecture as well. Why haven’t you been in to see me before today?
And don’t tell me the pains just started,” she ordered, pointing a short, well-manicured finger at Sandra.
“I was going to call you after the meeting.”
Ida peered at her closely. “The pain had already gotten that bad, huh?”
Sandra nodded.
“Tell me what’s been going on with you,” Ida said.
“There’s been some pain. I’ve been plagued with heartburn on and off for the last few days,” Sandra said. “Is it my heart?”
The implications of a heart attack were frightening.
Ida folded her arms. “No. You experienced a major anxiety attack.”
Sandra almost cried with relief.
“Don’t get excited too fast,” Ida scolded. “I don’t have the results from all the tests yet, but from what I’ve seen so far, you’re damn lucky it wasn’t your heart.”
Sandra felt a moment of panic slice through her. The monitor began to beep loudly.
Ida placed a hand on Sandra’s shoulder. “Relax. I don’t mean to frighten you, but it’s time you started thinking about your health. Take a deep breath.”
Sandra did as she was told.
“And another one,” Ida instructed.
Sandra continued to breathe deeply until the monitor re-sumed its steady blip.
“Now,” Ida said. “Let me explain what I suspect is going on, and then we can spend the rest of the day arguing about what you’re going to do about it.” She stopped for a moment and tapped her pen against Sandra’s chart. “This is a little unusual, but Allison Kramer is waiting outside and I’d like to call her in.”
Sandra hesitated. She failed to see the need to discuss her medical condition with Allison, but Ida would never have asked without a good reason. Sandra felt a chill run over her body. “All right. If you think there’s a need.”
Ida stepped to the door, and a moment later Allison came in.
Her eyes and nose were red from crying.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, placing her hand on Sandra’s arm.
“Fine.” Sandra’s voice betrayed her fear.
“Allison, I wanted you in here while I talked to Sandra because I think I’ll need your help to convince her of a few things.” Ida flipped open Sandra’s chart and thumbed through the pages.
“Sandra, your blood pressure is unbelievably high. I imagine part of the problem is due to all the excitement, so I’m going to have it monitored closely.” She flipped to another page. “Your initial blood work shows me you’re not eating properly. Your cholesterol is up, you’re anemic, and you appear to be physically exhausted. This has been going on for more than a few days, hasn’t it?” She fixed Sandra with an accusatory glare.
Sandra gave a guilty nod.
“What about the heartburn? She eats antacids like candy,”
Allison said.
Sandra felt betrayed by Allison’s disclosures. She frowned to show her disapproval, but Allison ignored her.
Ida moved to the side of the bed and studied the machines monitoring Sandra. “How often was the pain occurring?”
“It’s not bad.”
Ida’s stern glance stopped her. “Sandra, if you want to kill yourself, there are faster ways. Now, drop the martyr act and answer my questions.”
Sandra blushed. Avoiding Ida’s eyes, she hesitantly disclosed her symptoms.
Ida interrupted her several times to extract more details.
When Sandra had told her everything, Ida turned to Allison.
“The reason I called you in was to enlist your help in getting Sandra to take a vacation.”
Allison stepped closer to the bed. “I think its a wonderful idea. We can handle things for a few days.”
Sandra held up her hands. “Ida, after what happened today you don’t need Allison’s help. I’m more than willing to take a week or two off.”
Ida looked at her gravely. “I’m not talking about a week or two. I’m thinking three or four months.”
Sandra stared at her in disbelief. Even Allison hesitated.
“I can’t leave for three months.” Sandra tried to sit up. The beeping of the heart monitor began to race, and the tightness across her chest increased.
“Calm down or you’ll have a nurse in here reading me the riot act,” Ida admonished. She pushed Sandra gently back on the bed.”Allison, tell her,” Sandra directed.
Allison looked at Sandra and then at Ida. “Is it that serious?”
“I wouldn’t have prescribed it otherwise. She’s exhausted. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down, she’s a prime candidate for a stroke.”
Allison looked at her. “Dr. Rayburn’s right. The board can run Tate Enterprises for a few months.”
“Allison!”
“Damn it, Sandra. I’d rather we try to run it without you for a few months than have to bury you!” Allison shouted, and quickly looked away as the other two women stared at her in surprise.
“You know I’d never find another job that pays as well as this one does,” she teased with a small self-conscious smile.
Sandra lay stunned. How could she be away from work for three months? What would she do with herself?
She recalled lying on the boardroom floor thinking she was dying. There could be other advantages to getting away for a while. She would be able to avoid both Carol and Lona. The news about her hospitalization would spread. It would appear she was resting rather than running away. Disappearing for a few
months might be exactly what she needed.
All right,” she conceded so calmly both Ida and Allison eyed her doubtfully. “I’m serious,” she assured them. “Allison, call a board meeting tomorrow morning and announce I’m going to take an extended vacation. You are in charge.” Seeing Allison hesitate, she added. “You can handle things. You’ve worked with me long enough to know what I would or would not approve of.”
She turned to Ida and swallowed her guilt in taking the easy way out. “You happy now?” she asked.
“I think you must have hit your head when you fell,” Ida said speculatively. “I expected more of a fight from you.”
“No fight, Ida. You win.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Ida insisted on keeping her overnight for observation. Sandra felt it prudent not to argue. They moved her to a private room, where she dozed to the monotonous beep of the heart monitor.
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