by Trin Denise
“Speaking of business, did you know that I worked for EMCOR before you plotted out your little hostile takeover in your mega war room?”
Sydney laughed. “I would hardly call it a war room.” Did she want to tell Rachel the truth? She debated in her mind for several seconds before answering. “No, not at first,” she lied. “I did however, glance at the personnel list after the final papers were signed.” She had to choose her words carefully. “When I saw your name, I took a look at your file. Congratulations, by the way on your promotion.”
“I would say thank you if I actually believed you meant it.”
“I do mean it. You are very talented and I know this because I took the liberty to tour three buildings where you oversaw the interior design renovations. I’m a little puzzled why someone with your talent wouldn’t open her own architecture firm. I know you have the brains for it.”
If those words had come from anyone else, Rachel would have been thrilled with the compliment. She watched Sydney refill her coffee cup. “Would you like some?” Sydney asked, holding the pot in the air.
Rachel shook her head and Sydney put the pot back on the warmer. “I want you to oversee the total interior renovations of my house.”
“Huh, what did you just say?” Rachel asked, thinking she hadn’t heard her right.
“I want you to renovate my house,” Sydney repeated.
Rachel shook her head. “You’re joking right?”
“If you knew me at all Rache, which I suspect you don’t or ever did for that matter, then you would know that I never joke when it comes to business.”
Rachel’s look was defiant. “No, Sydney! I’m not going to do it and there’s nothing you can do about it,” she said, shaking her head.
Sydney had forgotten how stubborn Rachel could be. It was maddening before and even worse now. “You are an employee of EMCOR and seeing that I now own EMCOR, you are my employee as well.”
Rachel jumped up from her chair and smiled. “Then I quit! Neither you nor anyone else is going to tell me what I can or cannot do.”
“You made that perfectly clear thirteen years ago.”
“This … this, whatever this is…” Rachel shook her hands in the air. “Has nothing to do with us. Hell, I have no idea what this has to do with. You’ll have my resignation on your desk first thing in the morning.”
Sydney leaned back against the counter and laughed. She looked at Rachel with eyes that had darkened so deeply, they looked black. Her voice was even and controlled as she spoke. “You’re going to do this, Rache, and here’s why. If you don’t agree to do as I ask, I will fire Caitlyn.”
Rachel looked at her with a stunned expression on her face. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She shook her head. “You wouldn’t dare. She thinks the world of you and only God knows why, because I sure as hell don’t.”
Sydney pulled out her cell phone. It was strange to hear Rachel using curse words in the same sentence with God. She smiled at Rachel. “I would dare and you have less than ten seconds to make a decision,” she said, pushing the speed dial for Caitlyn’s phone. “Nine, eight, seven, six—”
“All right, all right, I’ll do it,” Rachel said just as Caitlyn’s voice came on the line.
“Hey, Caitlyn, it’s me. How’d everything go at EMCOR?” Sydney said into the phone. She looked at Rachel who silently mouthed the words, “please don’t.”
Sydney turned her back to Rachel. “Okay, great. See, you had nothing to worry about.” She smiled as she listened to Caitlyn’s run down of the meeting. “All right ... yeah, I have a few personal things to wrap up, and then I’m heading back to the office. I’ll see you soon.” She disconnected the line and said a silent thank you to herself for Rachel giving in. Regardless of what she had just threatened to do, she would never in a million years fire Caitlyn or cause her any type of pain, at least not intentionally. Caitlyn was the main reason she had nearly pulled the plug on her little scheme. Over the last two years she had come to love and care for the young woman as if she were her own daughter and the thought of Caitlyn hating her if she ever found out what Sydney was about to do to her mother was almost too much to handle—almost.
“What’s next?” Rachel asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
She turned and faced Rachel. “Be at my house tomorrow, eight o’clock. That’s A.M., not P.M.,” she clarified in case Rachel tried to get cute.
“I will do this, Sydney, because of Caitlyn but don’t expect me to like it. I will put in my hours just as I would if I were at my office. No weekends and no overtime and when I’m done, I’m done. No strings attached.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
“I think you mean that’s all you’re demanding. There was no asking about it.” After all these years, just being in the same room with Sydney still had the power to unnerve her. “I mean it, Sydney. It will take me two weeks, maybe less to do what you ask and when it’s over, I never want to see you again.” She prayed the angry tone of her voice would be enough to keep Sydney from wanting to go through with her threats.
Sydney unabashedly looked Rachel up and down. Her eyes lingered on Rachel’s breast, then her lips, before settling on her eyes. “I’ve spent the last thirteen years without you being in my life. Do you really think it will pain me not to have you there for the next forty?” Sydney asked sarcastically.
Rachel turned her back to Sydney—no way would she let Sydney see just how much her words had hurt. After several seconds, she slowly turned and faced Sydney. “How am I supposed to explain this to Caitlyn or, or my husband?”
“It’s just another special project. Trust me, she’ll understand. As for your husband, I would be surprised if he’s sober long enough to notice, so you can tell him whatever you like. I really don’t give a damn,” Sydney answered with a shrug.
“Please don’t do this, Sydney,” Rachel pleaded one last time. When Sydney didn’t respond, she walked over to the door and pulled it open. She placed her hands on her hips. “I would like for you to leave now before my husband gets home.”
Sydney sat her cup down on the counter and pulled out her car keys. She removed a key from the ring and laid it on the table. Without a backward glance, she walked out of Rachel’s house.
Tears welled up in Rachel’s eyes. She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. Oh God what am I going to do? She grabbed her cup from the table and refilled it. “I can do this. I have to for Caitlyn’s sake. I will treat Sydney just as I would any other client. Two weeks, that’s all the time I need to go through Sydney’s house. I will create the new designs, order the materials needed, then hire the contractors to implement the changes, and then Sydney Welsh will be out of my life for good.”
“Hey, hon, what are you doing home so early?” Edward asked.
Rachel jerked her head up in surprise. She didn’t hear him come in. “How long have you been standing there,” she asked, silently praying that he hadn’t heard her talking to herself.
Edward, wearing a yellow hard hat, dirty jeans, and a red and black flannel shirt, stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the dining room. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. She could tell he hadn’t shaved for several days based on the stubble covering his jowls and chin. His eyes were bloodshot and she could smell the alcohol clear across the room—he looked like hell.
“Just walked in,” he said, half staggering to the refrigerator. He jerked the freezer door open.
“You usually come in the back door.”
“It’s my God damn house, I’ll come in whatever door I want,” he said, slamming the ice cube tray on the counter. Several pieces of ice shot out of the tray and landed on the floor. He turned around to face her. “Now see what you made me do,” he snarled through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s your house. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Rachel said, her voice shaking as she bent to pick up the melting ice. She started to toss the cubes in th
e sink but he reached out and grabbed her by the wrists.
“You’re hurting me,” she cried out as he pulled her roughly against his body, pinning her arms down to her side.
He pushed her painfully against the counter. She could feel his arousal through his jeans as he crammed his crotch against her. He released one of her wrists only to grope her breast, his fingers squeezing like a vice around her nipple. He lowered his head to trail a row of sloppy kisses down the side of neck. She felt a burning sensation as he raked the prickly stubble from his beard against her skin.
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears as she pushed against his chest with her free hand. “Please stop, Edward,” she pleaded.
Edward grabbed Rachel’s forearms and squeezed. “You frigid bitch,” he spat, flinging her away from him. “Do you have any idea how many women would trade places with you in a heartbeat?” he laughed, his voice full of conceit. “And you wonder why I pick up hookers on North Dixie,” he snorted.
Rachel was silent as she looked down at the floor. She was afraid to say anything, afraid of setting him off again lest he finish what he started. Her insides shook as she thought back about the last time they had sex. It had been at least six months. Edward liked it rough and the more she fought, the more excited he got. She knew that spousal rape existed but in a million years, she would never have thought that she would experience it. It was her duty to honor and obey her husband. It was her duty to satisfy her husband sexually. She thought about her daughter. Alyssa was almost nine-years-old and Rachel counted the days, down to the last minute when her youngest daughter would turn eighteen. She only hoped she would live long enough to see that day.
She thought about the prostitutes that walked the Dixie strip. If it were possible, she would have invited one of them to live in her house. As long as the prostitute was taking care of her husband, she would be safe. She rubbed the area of her arms where his fingers had been and shivered. She would have to wear a long sleeve shirt tomorrow to hide the bruises.
“I’m gonna go watch TV, why don’t you make yourself useful for once in your life and fix me a drink,” he said, his voice snapping her from her thoughts.
She sighed in relief as he turned and stumbled out of the kitchen. She opened the cabinet door, pulled out a glass, and tossed in several half-melted ice cubes. She grabbed the bottle of Windsor sitting on the counter and filled the glass almost to the rim. She picked up the glass of whiskey, thinking that if she were lucky, Edward would drink until he passed out.
She heard the bubbly voice of Reagan O’Neal announce that it was time for the six o’clock news. What she said next got Rachel’s full attention. “At six fifteen, our news crew will take you live to Welsh Enterprises where Danielle Brisbane is reporting on the latest takeover by the entrepreneur extraordinaire, Sydney Welsh.”
“Damn,” Sydney mumbled as she turned into the Welsh parking lot. News vans and reporters were everywhere. She would have to sneak in through the back entrance. Thank heaven she drove something as non-conspicuous as a pickup truck because she was able to pass right by the reporters without getting a second glance.
She found a spot just to the left of the back door. She grabbed her briefcase and quickly made her way to the building. She slid her ID badge down the reader, slipped inside, and let out a sigh of relief when the door closed quietly behind her.
With briefcase in hand, she made her way down the carpeted hallway. As she turned the corner, she saw Caitlyn leaning against the receptionist’s desk.
“Hey, Syd,” Caitlyn greeted her with a smile as she approached the desk.
“What’s going on?” Sydney asked as she looked at Karen’s flustered face.
Karen ripped the headset from her head and laid it on the desk. “I’ll tell you what’s going on, these damn mother freakin’ reporters are driving me nuts.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Caitlyn said as the sound of the ringing phone continued to buzz on different lines.
“Yeah, I saw all the news vans out front. That’s why I snuck in through the back entrance.”
“It’s been this way for over an hour,” Karen said as she placed the head set back over her ear. She glanced down at the caller ID on the new switchboard phone console that Caitlyn had installed a few short hours earlier. She recognized the number and growled.
“Watch this,” Karen said, selecting the line with a touch of a button. She pressed another button to put it on speakerphone. “Hello, you’ve reached the office of the one and only supreme genius. This is Karen speaking, and how may I help you today?”
“Hello, Karen, I’m Jason Kindle from the Daily Ledger. I was wondering if you would like to comment on the rumors regarding Ms. Welsh’s sex life?”
Sydney raised her eyebrows as she looked at Karen and then Caitlyn. Karen shook her head.
“Are they true?” Jason Kindle asked after several seconds went by in silence.
“How the hell would I know about her sex life?” Karen asked the man on the other line.
“I thought you said you were the office of Supreme Genius?” Jason Kindle laughed.
“Yes I did and I am,” Karen said, nodding her head in an exaggerated fashion.
Jason Kindle cleared his throat. “The public has a right to know.”
Karen’s cheeks flushed red, matching the fiery color of her hair. “It’s none of your freakin’ damn business, Mr. Kindle, and it damn sure isn’t the public’s business.”
“I have repeatedly called you over the last hour and I have better things to do with my time and I demand an answer!” Jason Kindle yelled through the speakerphone.
Sydney and Caitlyn both stifled a laugh at the expression on Karen’s face. The man had no idea who he was dealing with.
Karen shook her head, floored by the man’s boldness. “Oh, you demand, do you? Well, Mr. Kindle, you’ve just been redirected to the office of I don’t give a freakin’ shit. You have a great day now,” Karen laughed and then promptly disconnected the line.
“What the hell is he talking about?” Sydney asked.
“Come on, I have something to show you,” Caitlyn said, motioning for Sydney to follow her. They walked past several offices and stopped in the doorway of the break room where a group of employees sat huddled together watching the TV mounted on the wall. As soon as they saw Sydney and Caitlyn, the room went instantly quiet.
Caitlyn pointed at the TV. “That’s what he was talking about.”
Sydney watched the TV as several pictures appeared on the screen. The photos showed Sydney along with Meredith and several other women who were either entering or leaving the downtown Dayton Lesbian bar called Covers. One photo showed Sydney and Meredith with their arms around each other. A caption at the bottom of the screen stated that Meredith and Sydney had split up after ten years together.
Sydney took a deep breath as her eyes fell on the photo of her and Meredith engaged in a kiss and it wasn’t the friendly peck on the cheek type of kiss. Another photo clearly showed the tip of Meredith’s tongue tracing an outline around Sydney’s bottom lip.
“Damn her to hell,” Sydney muttered under her breath. Meredith had threatened her but Sydney never thought she would stoop this low. If winning her back was Meredith’s goal, she sure was going about it the wrong way.
Sydney glanced at the employees in the break room, their eyes glued to the TV screen. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe for support. She felt her anger rise to the surface as she made a deliberate show of loudly clearing her voice. When the employees turned to look at her, she said, “I think all of you probably have something better to do with your time.”
Chairs scraped on the linoleum, and a pop can tumbled over on the table as the employees, embarrassment written on most of their faces, mumbled apologies as they made a hasty exit from the room.
“Look on the bright side, Syd. Welsh stock shot up six bucks a share when the news broke,” Caitlyn said with a n
ervous laugh.
“I’m sure that’s a small consolation to some of our old-school male stockholder’s,” Sydney said, shaking her head. “To them, reputation is more important than the size of their bank accounts.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. You’ve made your major stockholder’s very wealthy, besides, if they have a problem with your sex life, I would venture to bet they’re just jealous because you can get a better looking woman than they can,” Caitlyn chuckled.
Sydney couldn’t help but laugh. She wrapped her arm around Caitlyn’s shoulders. “Have I told you lately how glad I am that you work for me and not my competitors?”
Caitlyn smiled. “Ah, maybe once or twice but you can tell me again. Do you have time for a quick meeting?” she asked, her expression turning serious.
Sydney glanced at her watch. It was a little after six and Jackie wouldn’t be here for another forty-five minutes. “Sure, your office or mine?”
“Mine. I have some news regarding our Salami problem that I think you will be interested in.”
Edward glared at the TV screen. His knuckles were white from squeezing the glass in his hand. He looked up as Rachel came over to refill his glass.
“Did you know that she was a fucking dyke?”
“Who?” Rachel played ignorant. She knew exactly what he was talking about and had stopped dead in her tracks when the announcer on the TV mentioned Sydney’s name.
“Sydney Welsh. She’s a God damn dyke,” he said between clenched teeth. “I knew something was wrong with her.”
“Um, no. I had no idea,” Rachel lied. She could see the anger in his eyes and the last thing she needed right now was to say something that would set him off.
“Why didn’t you tell me she bought your company? Were you trying to hide it from me?” he asked, accusingly.
“No Edward, I wasn’t. It just slipped my mind.”
The news reporter began talking about the EMCOR takeover and how the news about the self-made millionaire’s sex life didn’t seem to be affecting Welsh stock. If anything, it had risen in value. The reporter went on to describe the woman kissing Sydney in the photo as Meredith Lansing, an executive at Welsh Enterprises who also happened to be Sydney’s long-term girlfriend of ten years. Rachel looked at the gorgeous woman in the photo and then something unexpected happened. She felt sick to her stomach as a deep-seated pain settled in her chest. Her face flushed as she realized what the pain was—jealousy.