by Dyanne Davis
“I’m not asking for a compromise,” Simon said, getting up from the desk and moving toward her. “I’m asking that as my wife you just do as I ask.”
“Why?”
“I just want you to do it, no questions.”
“Take a good look, Simon. It’s me. I don’t take orders. You knew how I was before you married me. I’m trying, I really am.”
And he knew that she was. Just as he knew he was making no sense in what he was saying to her. He’d fought with the woman too many years to think she would just take this order from him lying down. Still, the knowledge that she would rebel didn’t prevent him from saying his next words.
“What about your book? Shouldn’t you be working on that?”
“I have time.”
He studied her, biting his lips to keep silent.
“I’m going to the bookstore,” Janice announced as though Simon hadn’t said a word. “There is a meeting there today.”
“Are you ignoring my request?”
“Your request sounds more like an order. Tell me why you’re acting so crazy and maybe I won’t go.”
“If you can’t do as I ask, because I ask, then go.” Simon hoped that she wouldn’t take him up on it. Just once he wished she wouldn’t fight him.
Janice stared at her husband, wondering again what had gotten into him. A huge part of her wanted to show him that marriage had not made him her boss but she’d seen the quick flash of hurt in his eyes. She didn’t want to hurt him, not anymore.
“I’ll let this rest for today,” she conceded. “But this isn’t the end of it and I’m not going to stop helping out the bookstores. Tommy is in charge of that project. There will be times I will have to work with him. I gave my word.”
She saw something else in his eyes. “We’ll work on my schedule together, Simon, you and I, not just you.” She shifted her weight. “I love you,” she said and turned and left the room.
Simon watched his wife leave the room and go up the stairs. He’d wanted her to acquiesce to his wishes, and she had, sort of, but he’d noticed a sadness when she said she loved him.
This had to end.
And he had to end it.
Each step was heavy as he went up the stairs. Simon ignored the fact that his wife was staring at him in confusion. He went to her, gathered her in his arms and breathed in her scent mixed with the herbal fragrance of her shampoo. “I have to go out,” he said as he kissed her softly. “I have to take care of some things.”
He pulled back, saw the worry in her eyes and kissed her. “Don’t worry, baby.” He kissed her eyelids, then her lips. “When I return I promise I’ll be in a better mood.”
“You’ll give me a reason for all of this?”
“I’m not sure but since this is our first fight,” he stopped at the smirk on her face, “our first fight as husband and wife, I’ll be contrite, and I’ll be in the mood for some serious making up.”
“We could do that now.”
Simon smiled as he felt the instant erection. But for the first time since he’d laid eyes on Janice, making love to her was not uppermost in his mind.
“I have to go into the office for a couple of hours and take care of some things.” He kissed her again. “And I have to do a little shopping.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Sure I do. Now tell me which do you want, diamonds or sapphires?”
“Both,” Janice teased.
“Then both you shall have.” He looked down at his watch. “It’s almost nine. I’ll be back by three. Are you going to work on your book while I’m gone?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“I got my editor to give me an extension. I have six months.”
“That’s not a good habit to get into. You told me that, remember?”
“I know, but in the last few months my life has been a bit crazy. I haven’t been able to focus on writing more than a few hours a day. Don’t worry,” she added as Simon’s eyes narrowed. “I was planning on pulling back a little on my time with the bookstores.”
“Good,” Simon said as he kissed her and turned and left.
* * *
“Do it,” Simon barked into the phone as he snapped his finger in the direction of his secretary. “One of your editors gave her a six month extension. I want you to make sure that’s rescinded.”
“Why?” the voice on the other end of the phone asked, a bit surprised.
“Because I just might feel the need to step in and run the company myself.” Simon waited while he heard the man trying to adjust his breathing.
“How long do you want her to have?” the voice asked.
“She needs to have it in your office in one month.”
“Can she do it?”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
Simon noticed his secretary staring at him oddly. The man usually minded his own business. Simon frowned at the man, but still he continued watching him. “What?” he bellowed. “Spit it out.”
“Excuse me.”
“I’m not talking to you,” Simon said shortly into the phone. “My secretary is staring at me like I’ve suddenly grown horns.” Simon sighed and blinked. And then he knew why. He was behaving as though he had horns. The man was wondering why he was attempting to sabotage his wife.
“My wife has been distracted with other projects and can’t refocus. She told me so this morning. She also told me about the extension. I believe that is the reason she can’t get her book done. I’m doing this to help her,” he explained. He saw his secretary’s look of concern change to one of understanding.
He signaled the man to leave his office and continued with his call. “I don’t think I have to mention how important it is that my wife doesn’t know I’m behind the scenes pulling the strings. Just have a talk with her editor and stress that the manuscript must be turned in in one month.”
With that Simon hung up the phone and took a look around his massive office. Wall to wall bookshelves were filled with books from all of the authors whose lives he controlled in one way or another, whether or not they knew it. Then he glanced at the mahogany bookcase that was reserved for his wife. Only her books, her covers and her pictures went into that. If he were a little bit more eccentric he would say it was a shrine. But since he didn’t like the term when used on himself, he preferred to think that it was his way of displaying the talents of the woman he loved.
He glanced toward the marble fireplace at all of the awards his companies had accumulated before turning his attention toward his prized possession. He gazed at the framed oil painting and went to it.
The artist had done an excellent job of capturing his emotions on his wedding day. His love for his wife was reflected in the painting. For five months they had been happy. He’d managed to put Tommy Strong out of his mind for the most part, but now Tommy was becoming more than a pest. He was becoming a downright thorn in his side.
“Damn,” Simon said aloud and reached for the control panel to open the wall concealing the numerous computers and ticker tape machines which hummed in their own soundproof environment. He checked out all of his companies, yet it didn’t generate the energy in him that work usually did. For almost four years now work had become a distant second. His love life had pushed that aside. His wife was his number one priority and he wasn’t going to let anything change that. He stepped back and pushed the button to conceal the machines and walked down to Harold’s office.
“Harold,” he called, knocking and opening the door at the same time. “How’s it going?”
“I thought you weren’t coming in?”
“I changed my mind,” Simon answered, looking around Harold’s office. Harold’s office was almost as large as his and the huge mahogany desk was twice as large as Simon’s. Simon looked at the sparseness of personal mementos. The only picture in Harold’s office was one of Simon when he was about twelve and Harold wasn’t even in it.
The man had been like a father to h
im and for the past year Simon had treated him little better than a servant. And all because of his own arrogance.
“You’re looking tired, Simon. What’s wrong?”
“Your call didn’t help.” He swiped his face with the back of his hand. “It looks like I painted myself into a corner.”
“You can always find a way out. Your marriage is happy. Keep it that way. Tell her.”
“I know I should,” Simon sighed. “But now it’s more difficult.” He walked toward Harold’s fireplace, picked up a Faberge egg and tossed it lightly in his hand, knowing Harold was more than likely holding his breath as he toyed with the expensive trinket. It had been a gift from his good friend, Simon’s father. There weren’t very many eggs held by private collectors. Most people wrongly thought there were more. He knew what the egg meant to Harold and after a couple of minutes he deposited it where he’d found it.
“We almost had our first fight today,” Simon informed Harold. Then he turned toward the window as though he’d find the answer in the heavy paisley drapes and dark green walls.
He didn’t.
“What was your fight or your almost fight about?”
“I went crazy when you called to say that Tommy Strong was still trying to dig up information on me. Isn’t it enough that he’s tried every tactic to turn my in-laws against me?”
“What did you do?”
Simon sighed and sat in one of the heavy leather chairs and propped his feet on the edge of the expensive desk. “I went through her planner and scratched out every day she’d put in there to work with the man. When she found me doing it, I ordered her not to work with him.”
“You ordered her?” Harold laughed, then shook his head. “And you were banished from the kingdom by your new bride, I take it. We all know very well she doesn’t take to orders.”
“Actually I wasn’t banished. I decided I had pushed my luck far enough for one day and I regained use of my few remaining brain cells and left before I did any permanent damage.”
Harold studied the man who was not only his boss but his friend and surrogate son. Knowing him so well he knew without a doubt that Simon Kohl had not so easily conceded defeat. He saw the twitch at the corner of his mouth and knew he was now worrying about something he’d done. “What have you done, Simon?”
Simon smiled, slowly bringing his feet from the desk. “You think you know me so well, don’t you, old man? Well, guess what? You do.” He got up to clap Harold on the shoulder. “I don’t want her working with Strong, and since ordering her is not going to work, I decided that I would take matters into my own hands.”
“And?”
“And I ordered Peters to only give her a month to give the book to him.”
“A month? But you told me she hasn’t been doing much writing.”
“She hasn’t.”
“Then how the hell do you expect her to finish it in a month?”
“I don’t care if she finishes the damn book. I just don’t want her with Strong. That will give me time to think of something. I’m thinking maybe we can go abroad for a year. I don’t know and don’t care. I just know that I don’t want her near the man.”
“You can’t dictate to her, Simon.”
“I’m her husband.”
“You don’t own her.”
“Not you too?” Simon said. He stared at Harold. “All my life you’ve been telling me that the fact that my ancestors were in the slave trade had nothing to do with me. That no one would ever find out, that my grandfather had changed the family name, that my father hated knowing so much that he couldn’t even bring himself to tell his wife and she was white. How the hell do you think I feel about telling my wife, who’s black?”
“Simon you’re not—”
“Don’t,” Simon said, putting his hand up to stop Harold. “Everyone keeps telling me that I don’t own Janice. Tommy Strong, Janice, and now you. And you know how much that remark hurts me. But still you said it, so I have to wonder, do you think the genes of my forefathers run in my veins?”
“It was just an off-the-cuff remark. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Sometimes those are the truest statements. I don’t want to own her, but I don’t want her to hate me like my mother did my father. I don’t want her to doubt me and I’m running out of options.”
“So you’re going to Europe to hide?”
Simon stared. “I just want to give my marriage a fighting chance.” He thought of his words, then smiled thinly. “Let me rephrase that. I don’t want the fighting, I’m sick to death of the fighting.”
“You can run the businesses from anywhere. That’s not a problem. Matter of fact, in the last week the employees have not been as happy as they usually are. You’ve been pretty hard on everyone, including all the publishers. You used to allow them freedom to do as they pleased. Now you’re pushing yourself down their throat and making demands. People are more loyal when they’re treated like friends.”
“I’m trying to protect my marriage. Don’t you understand that?”
“I understand that you don’t have to work so hard at it. Janice loves you.”
“I know she loves me,” Simon answered and headed for the door. “I just want to keep it that way.”
“Where are you going now, home?”
“No, I think I’ll pay a little visit to Mr. Strong.”
“What abut Janice?”
“She’s home. I told her I would be home by three to make up for my actions.”
“You know, Simon, if you’d just trust her you wouldn’t have to spend so much time or money making up.”
“Maybe I like making up, Harold. Did you ever think of that?” He laughed softly.
Chapter Twenty-two
Janice looked at the monitor on her computer. She’d never experienced writer’s block, but if it felt anything like what she was having at the moment, then maybe this was it. All she knew for sure was that she kept staring at the same line, deleting it, replacing it and writing it again.
Her mind wasn’t on her book. Her mind was on her husband. For the past two weeks he had been more possessive than ever. She had curtailed her work with Tommy, only doing neighborhood canvassing when there were other authors involved. Her seeing less of Tommy should have made her husband happy. It hadn’t. Simon wasn’t happy. But he wasn’t telling her anything.
Janice punched the button to turn off the computer. Maybe if Simon wouldn’t talk, Tommy would. She glanced at the clock. It was only noon. She would be back long before Simon returned.
Janice ignored the questions that the staff asked about her destination, telling them only that she would be home by the time her husband returned. She liked all the staff, but wasn’t so naive as to not know that they reported her movements to her husband.
For a change she found a parking slot for her Jeep near Tommy’s bookstore and fortified herself against the thoughts that were twirling in her mind. I’m not going against what my husband wants. I’m not going to work with Tommy.
“Hi, Neal.” she said to the clerk as she went into the store. “Is Tommy in the back?”
“No, he’s shelving books.” Neal grinned. “I think he’s taking all of yours off. He’s pretty pissed at you.”
“I’ve been doing all that I can. I’m married to a man Tommy doesn’t like. I’m doing what I can to help. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I understand, but then I’m not the one who thought he stood a chance with you.”
Janice ran her tongue unconsciously over her lips, wanting to deny that she had encouraged Tommy, but remembering the kisses they’d shared and knowing that she had in some way. Wanting to have closure with Tommy, she had inadvertently added fire to the flame.
“What are you doing here? Your husband faxed me that you weren’t available.”
Janice looked toward Tommy, surprised that she’d not heard him come up. “I know. I wasn’t available earlier.” She would talk to Simon later about what he’d done.
“Then why the hell are you here? I don’t really need your sporadic help. We can do this without you.”
Janice touched his arms and pushed against him. “Can we talk in the back room?”
“I’m busy.”
“So I see. I can help you with the books.” She began removing books from cartons and walking around the store with them, knowing that Tommy’s need to control things would have him at her side and making sure she was putting them where he wanted.
“You made a mistake, Mary Jo.”
Janice looked at the books in her hand. “What did I do?”
“I’m not talking about the books. I’m talking about your marrying Simon Kohl. You should cut your losses and get out now before you start having babies and you’re tied to him forever.”
For a moment she stopped and glared at him. “Is that what a baby means to you, Tommy, that you’re tied to the mother forever?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
She moved from him, wondering why the past still had the power to hurt her. Tommy had hit too close to the truth. Janice thought she was pregnant but she hadn’t told her husband. She’d been waiting for the perfect moment. She hadn’t even taken a home pregnancy test. It was just something she’d felt intuitively, that a life was growing inside her. She’d already made a doctor’s appointment to verify what she already knew. And she wanted this time to be different. She wanted her baby to be born in love and peace and she wouldn’t get either if she didn’t get to the bottom of what was caught in Tommy’s craw.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Have you ever wondered how Simon’s family made their money?”
Janice knew where this was going, where things always went with Tommy. She walked away toward a stack of magazines and pulled the old copies.
“Have you?” Tommy asked, following her, not bothering with the fact that there were customers in the store.
“I don’t care,” Janice turned to him and said hotly.
“You don’t care if Simon Kohl’s family owned slaves?”
How the hell could she not care? How the hell could she tell Tommy that she didn’t? “Listen, neither Simon or his father or his grandfather owned slaves.”