All the same, she took it out and set it on her desk. There were a lot of things that Dana still wasn’t sure about, but after what had happened the past few days, she thought that perhaps she knew where the inspiration for the cutesy piece had come from.
The question still remained: How much of it was the truth?
Chapter 14
On Monday, Andrew woke up groggy and foggy, strung out from a weekend of picking up and setting down the phone, and pacing, so much pacing… there should have been a track in his floor for all the times his feet had passed back and forth. Even Gandalf had grown restless watching him, eventually hopping off the couch and retreating into the bedroom as if miffed over his disturbed evening.
After Dana left Friday night (no, Andrew corrected himself, it had been well into Saturday morning by then) he’d had a bit of a tantrum and shouted a bit, mostly at himself. After all, what had been Nick’s most prominent piece of advice in this whole mess? Bide your time, and don’t do anything stupid. And what had Andrew gone and done? He was so furious with himself, he couldn’t stand his own company, but he knew he wasn’t in any shape to try and go to work or even try and be around other people.
He didn’t remember sleeping Saturday night, but he must have passed out at some point because Andrew woke on his couch Sunday morning with his head ringing. He hadn’t downed any alcohol besides the cocktails at the Marcels’. With a headache like this, his blood pressure must be through the roof.
Now it was early Monday, and his alarm blared bloody murder at him to crawl out of bed and face the music. He’d have to talk to Dana today. He would see her on the train, unless he avoided it and took a taxi, or an earlier line. Eventually he would have to explain why he’d avoided her, though, and that was bound to only make his situation more complicated.
Even if he didn’t see her on the commute, Andrew had to speak to her today. He had to explain to her that he’d made a mistake and stepped over a line that he shouldn’t have. Andrew would calmly explain that he’d gotten carried away, beg her forgiveness, and ask that they move on as if it hadn’t happened.
That was a laugh. Pretend it hadn’t happened? Andrew couldn’t stop thinking about it, with a torturing combination of yearning and horror. He wanted to kiss her again! Even with the anguish it had brought him, the embarrassment, he wished he could do it again! Just how stupid am I?
But he would tell Dana it had been a mistake. There was nothing else to say. He’d acted inappropriately and made her feel uncomfortable by shoving his desires into her lap, rudely and without warning. So he would do the only decent thing and promise it wouldn’t happen again.
As long as she didn’t run from him, or slap him full across the face.
The shower felt good, so Andrew took a longer one than usual, letting the water warm his lean muscles. He’d been missing the gym lately, with all the overtime at the office. Maybe that’s all he needed, just to get his body moving again and give his overworked nerves a break.
Gandalf didn’t seem to have completely forgiven him for his fugue. The cat sat stiffly in his usual spot on the couch, glaring through slit eyes. Andrew opened the pantry and shook the Purina bag—seconds later, all was forgotten and Gandalf loved him again. If only everyone was so easy to win over.
When he was washed and dressed and made up as professionally as he could manage, Andrew collected his coat and briefcase and let himself out the door. His head was still swimming with fried nerves and anxiety, but that would have to serve. He had work to do at Bellwethers—he couldn’t hide in his condo any longer.
It was so very tempting, the thought of dodging the issue completely and hiring a taxi. So, so tempting… But the longer he avoided Dana, the more awkward the eventual conversation would be. So Andrew headed to the subway and filed onto the platform as usual, waiting with frizzled nerves and little optimism. Of all the places to make this sort of apology, the train would not be his first choice.
From up the tunnel, the rumbling of the approaching line roared and echoed against the stone walls. Headlights shone almost ominously, but then maybe Andrew was really just too nervous. He moved to the car where Dana usually waited for him and boarded, looking around.
It only took a second to realize that she wasn’t there. Shocked, Andrew scanned the car again, front to back. With her red coat she stood out like a cardinal in a murder of crows. But she wasn’t here.
It might have calmed him to think that she was, perhaps, just in another car, but the train was moving and Andrew wasn’t that dumb. He’d spent all morning wishing he could avoid Dana. It had never popped into his head that she might be taking steps to avoid him.
Considering how he’d spent all weekend, this turn of events should have given Andrew some relief, however temporary, but it blackened his mood and he spent the rest of the commute glaring out the dark windows. He knew it was ridiculous. Honestly, her reaction was perfectly rational, and Andrew should have expected it. He’d been naïve to think anything otherwise. But the reality that she’d taken a different line just so she wouldn’t have to see him…
At the stop near the Seven Diamonds Tower, Andrew sulked off the subway and onto the platform. It was cool morning, really tasting of winter cold and autumn in full swing. The gray sky came into view through the street exit, and Andrew climbed towards it, milling through the crowd like the thoughts milling through his head.
Almost the moment he was above-ground, his cell phone began to ring. Andrew dug it out of his pocket. It was Nick. Andrew began to walk towards work and answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Andrew? Oh my God, Andrew, you answered. Look, where are you?” Nick’s voice was breathless and urgent. He didn’t usually sound effeminate, but when he was upset it showed. Andrew’s stomach twisted.
“I’m a couple blocks away. What’s up?”
“You’re almost here, I’ll tell you when you get to the office,” Nick took a deep breath. “Just get here. I’ll wait in your office for you. Just come straight to your office. Don’t stop anywhere else. Something’s happened.”
And Nick hung up before Andrew could pry anything else from him.
If there was anything that could cause Andrew alarm, it was hearing Nick upset. His assistant had the steel nerves of an ER nurse, and was not given to overreaction. By the time Andrew reached the lobby of the Seven Diamonds, he was half-jogging. He slowed through the building, having to stop and wait at the elevators.
The ride up to the Bellwethers offices seemed eternal. People kept getting on and off, slowing the trip. Didn’t they get it? He had places to be!
A woman stepped out on Dana’s floor, and Andrew was relieved that he was in such a rush. Otherwise, he might feel compelled to find Dana at her work, which promised to be his worst idea yet. Instead, he rode all the way up to Bellwethers, and finally, finally, the elevator let him out.
At first glance, all seemed to be in normal working order for a Monday. A general half-enthusiastic, half-hung over atmosphere pervaded. People sat around in their cubicles, at their desks, walked papers to and fro, battled the temperamental fax machine. From Nick’s tone, the floor might have been on fire, or roaches eating all of this year’s hard-copy billing files.
Cautiously, Andrew crossed the floor and threaded his way to his office. Maybe this was an outlier, a rare occasion when Nick was getting overexcited. No one else seemed disturbed. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.
Andrew opened the door to his office. All looked the same as he had left it, except Nick was standing next to the desk. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and an intense frown darkened his features. His reddish curly hair was disheveled, and his glasses were clutched in one hand.
“Close the door, Andrew. You’re not going to want anyone to hear this.”
“What’s happened?” Andrew shut the door and set his briefcase down.
Nick took a deep, calming breath. “We got a call from Westcorp this morning. They are formally withdrawing their sup
port from your community center project.”
Andrew stood perfectly still. His voice came out strained. “What?”
Nick nodded curtly. “I got their call about half an hour ago. I was trying to reach you—I figured you might be on the train or something. They claimed a conflict of interest. Didn’t even offer their apologies.”
Apologies were a meaningless gesture when you were backing out of a deal, but their absence wasn’t lost on Andrew. “You think Louis found out about me and Dana?” he asked, hushed.
Nick threw his hands up. “Honestly, I have no idea. But I haven’t told Brown yet. I didn’t know what you would want to do. We haven’t had something like this happen before.”
Andrew nodded slowly, wheels turning. “That’s probably for the best. We’ll have to tell him today, but I’m going to call Louis Marcel first and just figure out what’s really going on.”
Still tense, Nick nodded back. “Okay. What do you want me to do in the meantime?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just go ahead like you usually do, don’t act any different. We still have other projects going and other irons in the fire. Just let me handle this for now. I’ll tell you when I know more.”
“Right. Good luck.” Nick let himself out of Andrew’s office, leaving Andrew himself feeling slightly numb.
Withdrawing support? Andrew let his weight fall into his desk chair. He’d never had a company withdraw at this point. He was good at what he did, and always kept partners happy and committed. What was different about this time?
Of course, he knew at once. Dana was different. He’d never had to play this sort of charade for a prospective business partner before, and he should have figured something would get twisted up. But what? It had been going to well. The dinner on Friday—although followed by a disastrous misstep on Andrew’s part—had seemed to go off without a hitch. Was it Lauren’s dislike of Dana that had changed Louis’ mind?
Fury welled up at the thought. Who was she to make decisions for her husband? Who was she to decide Dana wasn’t good enough? Dana was a better person than anyone Andrew had ever met, and a more beautiful woman than most, without expensive clothes or jewelry.
In an attempt to calm himself, Andrew tried to clear his mind. He didn’t know what had happened yet. He wasn’t going to know until he called Marcel and asked.
Before he could make himself pause, Andrew picked up his phone and scrolled to Marcel’s number. With a silent prayer that he hadn’t been blocked, Andrew hit call.
After two rings, Marcel answered. “Hello, Poole.”
Not using first names. He didn’t sound like his usual cheerful self. That wasn’t a good sign. “Mr. Marcel, hi. I got the news today about the withdraw. I’m sorry to see you go.” Andrew forced himself to relax. His words wanted to bunch together, but he slowed himself. “I was wondering if there’s anything I can do. You decided to withdraw so suddenly.” And without a damn bit of warning, he added in his head.
“Yeah, I bet you would like that.”
It was a jarringly unfriendly thing to say, and Andrew had never heard Marcel speak in that tone. It wasn’t terribly surprising that he could be rude. All businessmen had their sales pitch voice and their normal one. It was just a shock to hear such sudden hostility.
“Well, yes.” There wasn’t much to do except persist in his friendly approach. If a little rudeness from Louis Marcel was the worst thing Andrew would have to face today, it wouldn’t be half a bad Monday, after all. “I was looking forward to working with you and Westcorp. I thought we had a lot of potential together. Did something happen?’
It was the only logical explanation. Something must have occurred, because Marcel was almost palpably angry through the phone. It was becoming clear that Andrew wasn’t going to be able to save this deal, but he at least had to know why.
“Nothing in particular,” he seethed. “Just looked back over some figures and they don’t look as promising as I thought at first.”
His voice was almost icy at this point. Andrew was about ready to take off the silk gloves and give Marcel a piece of his mind, when Louis suddenly added, “And if I were you, I’d keep an eye on that little future wife of yours. I ran into her on the subway today. She’s running around New York without her engagement ring, did you know that? Gave me some bullshit story about getting the setting fixed or some such. If it were me, I’d toss her, but don’t let me give you advice. Enjoy your whore fiancée.”
And he hung up.
For almost a full minute, Andrew sat there with the dead phone against his ear, pulse beating against his eardrum. To say he was shocked was a gross understatement. Shocked, and furious. Lethally furious. He had a strange urge to break something. Or someone.
His hands were shaking as he set his phone down on the desk. He thought about calling Marcel back, but that was pointless. He’d never answer, or else he’d just hang up again. No, their conversation was over.
Louis’ words pounded a rhythm into Andrew’s skull, imprinting his angry and blasphemous accusations like red lettering across Andrew’s vision. Louis Marcel sure had some damn nerve. Andrew clenched his hands into fists. To even dare whisper those words about Dana, much less shout them at Andrew over the phone…!
As calmly as he could, Andrew stood and walked out of his office. Louis Marcel was not his problem anymore. Maybe it was better this way. If this was how Marcel acted, he’d be a shit business partner in the long term.
Nick watched him closely as Andrew walked to the elevator, calm as a cucumber, and hit the button for down. No one else seemed aware that he was about ready to snap necks, which was good. The first person to nudge him in the wrong direction might end up getting the rage that was meant for Louis Marcel.
But before that, he had to see Dana. No more avoiding. Something had happened between them, and perhaps it had led to Louis Marcel’s behavior today. And more than anything, Andrew had to see her, sort things out, and try his best to understand what on Earth was going on.
Chapter 15
Oh, this was not good.
Dana sat at her easel, anxiously tapping her pencil against the paper. So far, she had the beginnings of a Jackson Pollock, but not much else. Today’s productivity was down, down, down.
There were worse things than that to think about. This morning’s scene with Marcel on the train haunted her thoughts. She felt frightened, insecure. Dana had never felt like this before. There was something so vile and invasive about his behavior. She kept looking towards her office door as if afraid he might come sauntering through any moment. Maybe that’s what she really was afraid of.
Not for the first time, she looked at her phone, thinking about calling Andrew. He was just upstairs right now. The urgency to call him and tell him what had happened weighed on her mind. But if she called him, they would surely end up talking about… the other night. Dana turned back to her work.
She tried to make lines, shapes. She had a new project for this week, and she couldn’t afford to get behind right from Monday morning. Focus, Dana, she told herself. Move the pencil. Again. And again.
But for anyone who has ever created art before, mechanics have little to do with creativity. And although she did create lines and shapes and even some shading, her work was cold, and remained cold to her, stubbornly refusing to come to life as it normally did. For all that she struggled to form a picture over the course of a half-hour, by the time she stopped and really looked at what she had produced, it resembled a haphazard pile of extra wire fencing more than a caricature.
Dana sighed and picked up her eraser. Sometimes, taking some things out helped her visualize. And when she was anxious, sometimes watching the lines disappear had a therapeutic effect.
It helped a little bit, even now. Dana cleaned up lines and erased corners. Her mind cleared a little at a time as she removed the unnecessary and the burdensome.
If only life were like this, she mused.
The thought surprised her a little. She had a good lif
e, didn’t she? A loving family, a sister who was her best friend. A good job in a city she adored. Her life was complete, really. She was doing what she wanted to do, around people she wanted to be with, where she wanted to be. So what needed removing?
Louis Marcel, for one, and she removed another line from the sketch. He was definitely an asshole. Maya would have a field day when she found out about his actions. She might get mad enough to seek him out in retribution, but Dana would pull her off that course. No point in dragging Maya into this. Louis Marcel would get what was coming to him. No need for her sister to get involved with him.
What else? Maybe she’d erase commuting, if she could. Dana giggled a little to herself. Yeah, maybe she’d get rid of that if the opportunity arose. Of course, without her daily commute, she’d have never met Andrew, even though the worked in the same building.
Dana paused with her eraser over another line. Was Andrew something she would erase, if she could?
The last time she’d seen him had been the night at his condo. His face still stood out in her mind, handsome and uncertain, leaning closer. Why hadn’t she stopped him, if his advances were so bad? If kissing him was such a bad thing, surely Dana would have found it in herself to stop him? She was a good person, right?
She set down the eraser and frowned at the easel.
“You’re going to have to help me out, here,” she told it with a sigh. “I’m trying, but we’re going to have to work together on this.”
Lacey’s voice interrupted her conversation with the easel. “Dana? Someone’s here to see you.”
There wasn’t even time to be horrified at the thought of who might have come to her office. If she’d had more than a second, maybe Dana would have been afraid Louis Marcel had followed her to work, but the possibility didn’t even have time to form before she turned and saw Lacey standing next to her cubicle wall.
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