by Emily Duvall
High heels charged across the floor and Melanie looked up in time to see a woman walk towards her with her arm extended.
“Ms. Cahill,” she announced; giving Melanie a firm handshake. “I’m Ms. Wright, please accept my apologies. The doors are supposed to set off a warning bell anytime someone enters the house. I don’t like for any of Mr. Harrison’s guests to go wandering off in his private residence.”
The face smiling back at Melanie showed off smooth skin and an attentive gaze, younger than Kendra’s serious voice sounded. “Nice to meet you Ms. Wright.” Melanie went along with the charade of actually being there for some important reason.
Kendra held up three fingers. “New technology can be so tricky. In three years houses all across the country will have a similar type of door. Keys are so clunky, aren’t they?” She gave a little laugh. “Mr. Harrison will be onto something new by the time these doors hit the mass market. You’re lucky he’s able to see you, with his upcoming travel.”
“Upcoming travel?” Melanie asked absently, trying to take in the grandeur of the house.
“Of course you know he’s spending the entire summer in Maui. Mr. Harrison is a reasonable human being and an excellent boss.” Kendra gazed critically at her watch. “If there are no other questions, may I offer you something to drink? We have coffee, tea, or water.”
Kendra obviously didn’t know why Melanie had shown up at his house, she had the weirdest feeling, like she was here for an interview or something. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Cue taken, Melanie walked next to Kendra. Spacious archways led them down a hallway without much decoration except for antique tables on one side and windows on the other with heavy drapes pulled back by thick cords. A pink, fuzzy elephant stuck under one of the curtains caught her eye. Her heart slammed against her chest. “Does Luke have a daughter?”
Kendra stopped and followed Melanie’s gaze. “Yes, of course. Vivian turned two years old last week.” She continued walking. Her heels knocked with oomph on the floor and echoed throughout the high ceiling and she kept moving apparently without a care for what she’d just admitted.
Melanie’s bag dropped to her elbow. Luke was a father. Which meant his daughter had a mother. Melanie’s heart hid behind shame. At one point she’d wanted to marry this man. Now he had a family, a fact Melanie couldn’t breathe in without a quick stab to her heart. Without her, he’d been doing quite well for himself, a reality she swallowed with bitterness. In a different life, this might have been hers.
Abruptly, Kendra stopped at the double doors at the end of the hallway. “This is his office. Are there any other questions?”
One question jumped to the forefront of her mind. “How’s his mood?”
Kendra blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’d like to know if he’s in a good mood or bad mood. Gives me a little bit of leverage, don’t you think?”
She breathed in hard. “I think he’s a busy man. Don’t waste his time.”
Melanie’s gaze steadied on the dark-wooded doors with hand-carved, ornate lines. They screamed expensive, one-of-a-kind. The nerves in her stomach bloated up her chest. She put a hand high on her stomach. The worst he could do is to kick her out of the house. The thought brought little comfort, seeing as how Luke had long, strong legs from what she remembered.
“I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.” Kendra rapped on the door. The glitzy silver bracelet on her wrist dropped from her wrist to inside her jacket sleeve.
Melanie felt downright sick. Facing her past had been tougher than she’d ever imagined. Her hand remained on the doorknob a second too long and sucked out all of her courage.
“He’s waiting,” Kendra urged and gave the door an impatient push.
Melanie saw Luke first. She held her breath. Unaware of her presence and on his cell phone, Luke sat behind his desk and glanced at his computer screen. Lean, long arms stretched out in front of him. Arms and a chest and body made for wrapping around someone and holding them close. His clean-shaven jaw took her a moment to get used to. Her lips curled in at the thought of those demanding kisses every time they were together. There used to always be some length of stubble thanks to his days and weeks spent out in the wild. The Luke in front of her wasn’t rugged anymore. He’d traded his cargo shorts for black pants and a tailored suit jacket.
Luke glanced up at her with such sharpness, Melanie’s hands balled into fists. She stood there, met only by a piercing, hostile gaze.
The phone slipped out of his hand onto the desk. “So. It really is you.” Luke got to his feet.
“Hello, Luke,” she said, staying put, and not certain her feet would actually move if they could. Any clever opening line she’d rehearsed on the drive up scattered into hiding. Words stuck to her throat. She couldn’t remember where to begin. A cough fled her mouth. Say something, she panicked. The plot to make a grand entrance and demand support of her brother’s release seemed as ridiculous as the need for automatic sliding doors in a house. “How nice it is to see you.”
A caustic smile crossed Luke’s lips. “I see you still begin your sentences with lies.” Luke took his time walking over to Melanie; his intolerant gaze pinning her down.
The harshness in his voice ripped through her plans. Forgiveness hadn’t come to his house like she’d fluffed up in fantasy. The shadow in his eyes when he looked at her told her she didn’t have much time. She found her voice in the bottom of her gut. “I’m going to explain why I’m here today and then I’ll leave.”
“No.” Luke glanced at the door. “I want you off my property.”
“I drove a long way to see you. I deserve—”
“You don’t deserve my time.” Redness rose up through his cheeks. He pointed at the door with a hard finger. “Get out.”
“You let me up here.”
“You had your chance to see me. Now you can find your way out.”
Tears burned her eyes. She wouldn’t have a chance to walk out with strength and composure. Luke kicked her out and it hurt a lot more than she’d imagined. All she could do included flinging the door open and running down the hall.
She never said the right thing in the heat of the moment, except working with children, because they served as a very forgiving audience. And most of her clients didn’t know how to string two words together. Melanie’s hands trembled. Thankful for Kendra not stalking the outside of Luke’s office, Melanie took hold the mess of emotions taking over and breathed out slowly. She retraced her steps back down the hallway.
It split into four different shoots. If she walked left, she’d return to the front doors. Melanie chose to go right and gave a backward glance at Luke’s office. The pounding beneath her chest began to subside.
The first set of doors she came to she pushed down the brushed knuckle handle and stepped outside. She thought she’d be able to get to her car easily from the door, but instead, she’d found the back yard. Two staircases descended below to a large, rectangular swimming pool, patterned by lounge chairs, tables, and potted red hibiscus on the outside. Melanie’s gaze followed an invisible line over the diving board. Beyond the gray ocean, the cluster of ghostly buildings at the helm of the San Francisco skyline came into view. Unsettled currents ran through her body like the choppy waves. The patio directly in front of her overlooked the crystal blue water in the lavish pool.
Melanie walked over to one of the five Adirondack chairs surrounding a fire pit with broken down coals and ash, and sat down. Under the circumstances, she didn’t feel proud for being at Luke’s residence like this. Seeing his face and knowing how much he couldn’t stand her, hurt more than she’d expected. She reminded herself that they hadn’t been happy at the end of their relationship. Today she’d come full circle with all those heated feelings clogging up her chest. His actions still hurt her. They had never really left. This much, she knew.
Something moved to Melanie’s left and she stood up fast. A little girl peeked up at Melanie from behind one of the chairs. Those
crystal brown eyes, belonged to those of her father and she could see the slight upturn of her lips matched Luke’s as well. “You’re Vivian,” Melanie said. The girl blinked and ducked again. Melanie sat back down.
Vivian showed her face. The wind blew her wispy, thin hair over her cheeks. She fussed and came out from behind the chair.
“Hi,” Melanie said, setting down her bag. The trusty, sturdy canvas tote filled with a wallet, sunglasses, hair ties, hand sanitizer, and a variety of educational toys she carted with her everywhere. The trunk of her car held more boxes, each one filled with toys and games she’d checked out of the Growing Tree in their inventory room and carted to her clients’ residences. The needs of her clients changed with their progress and her boss worked at securing very generous donations to buy age-appropriate and developmentally appropriate items. Melanie selected a plastic baggie with five, small, red blocks. Children loved this little game she played with them. She didn’t think twice about engaging Vivian in a quick activity. What she did question, was why Vivian had come outside alone.
Curious at the blocks, Vivian took a cautious step forward. She squinted and rubbed her cheek.
The blocks fell on the chair next to Melanie. She picked them up and stacked them. “I’m going to play with these blocks,” she said and stacked three blocks. The task she repeated two times while Vivian watched. “Your turn.”
Vivian walked up to the chair and instead of taking the blocks, picked up the baggie, examined the cheap plastic while giving the blocks a lazy glance. She set down the bag and picked up the blocks; hoarding them in her small hands.
“Stack,” Melanie said, encouraging her. “Stack blocks.”
Vivian made fleeting eye contact. She looked back at the blocks. Vivian’s eyes spaced out a little and they came together again. She stared at the blocks like she looked right through them.
“Stack,” Melanie repeated and showed her what to do.
Vivian took the blocks in her hands, pushed them on the chair, and attempted to stack one without success.
Again, Melanie took the blocks out of Vivian’s hands, built them up, and knocked them down. The second time, Vivian knocked them down and tried to grab them before Melanie could. Vivian swatted at Melanie’s hands in frustration and she shook her head.
“You want more.” Melanie closed her fingers and tapped them together, making the sign for more as she said, “More.” Always give a verbal cue with sign language, a golden rule of her profession. Not surprising, Vivian didn’t respond in either gesturing or words.
“Vivian, say “Ba,” Melanie said, making an exaggerated motion with her mouth. “Ba.”
Vivian wiggled and looked away. She looked off into space and mumbled a nonsensical noise.
Intrigued, Melanie played a few minutes longer. She tried out different letters and sounds, encouraging Vivian to mimic her. Vivian did nothing in return. She kept going for the blocks and Melanie put her hand over them to prevent her from grabbing them. Speech meant more than speaking. Listening included more than hearing. Development wasn’t always straightforward and she could see without much formal evaluation that possibly, something was off with little Vivian. She worked around enough children to make a pretty darn good estimated guess, although she always approached her clients objectively and with testing standards.
Of course Luke would be aware of any developmental or speech issues with his daughter. This wasn’t her case and he probably already had his daughter receiving the best services. She glanced up at the house, to a row of first-floor window, and a chill ran up her spine. Somewhere in the house, she could sense those dark eyes of his watching her and she pulled back from close proximity with Vivian.
Chapter 4
The fire beneath Luke’s skin hadn’t been extinguished. The longer he watched from his office, the deeper the burn spread. Melanie Cahill sat in a chair on his patio and interacted with his daughter. The look on her face, serious and interested, drew out the natural confidence. The hair waved in the breeze and Luke’s fingers twitched at the thought of its softness, of how it looked made to be touched. His gaze lowered to her body, to the slight curve of her hips. His gaze reverted back to her striking face. Lips that beckoned a man’s notice. Wide eyes complimented by elegant, arched eyebrows. Thoughts full of forbidden ideas entered his mind. Luke caught himself. Melanie handed the blocks to Vivian and he grew doubly irritated at her on his property and the whereabouts of the nanny. “Kendra, get in here,” he ordered.
He thought about his younger days when he’d started up his first company with Mark Cahill, a college roommate at UCLA and a fellow entrepreneur. They had ranked in the top of their classes in physics and organic chemistry. Their aptitude for science didn’t take them on a course suited for medicine or working in some confined, biohazard waste plant like a lab rat. Both of them had stumbled into gem-hunting by accident, after one of his professors set out an announcement called “The Race to the Kashmir Sapphire.” Anyone in the class who could produce such a stone would get his or her entire tuition paid for by the professor.
No one did or ever had found such a rare gemstone. Last time Luke had checked, the offer still hung on the professor’s wall. Each year the story made the news. The idea of going in search of such a gemstone had intrigued Luke. He enrolled at the prestigious International Gemology Association and had become certified to appraise gems. Mark had taken a similar path, and together they set out to create their own business—a business that failed horribly within the first two years, ending in a trial, and Mark’s attempted murder on Luke’s life. Luke couldn’t think of Mark without thinking about his sister, Melanie.
What’s Melanie doing here?
He couldn’t get past that one question. He could have her escorted off his property this very second. Luke continued to stare at her intently as he scratched his chin. A thought entered his mind and he toyed with the possibilities.
“Sir?” Kendra answered and slid in through the door. Questions lit up her eyes at the notable absence of the guest. “Where’s Ms. Cahill?”
Luke motioned her over and stabbed the window with his finger. “What do you know about her?”
Kendra took a moment to observe the woman outside, presently dumping blocks on the ledge of the fire pit with Vivian looking on. “I feel like this is a trick question.”
“There’s no trick.” Luke pointed at Melanie again. “You know everything about everyone who walks into my office. What is she doing here?”
Kendra’s face looked cut off from oxygen. “I can either find out or call security to escort her off the property.”
Luke’s gaze swept back to the window at the perplexing scene. His daughter didn’t warm up to people. She usually screamed and fussed at anyone getting in her space. Melanie grabbed a small plastic cup from her bag and Luke made a decision. “Get Ms. Cahill. I want to speak with her.”
Confusion clouded Kendra’s eyes. “Okay. I’ll go get her.” She left Luke at the window.
Luke continued to watch and listen with ears strained to hear the dialogue. Melanie hid the small blocks under a cup. The sound of her firm, clear voice carried to the open window. “Want turn?” she said, followed up by, “Your turn.”
Vivian pushed Melanie’s hands.
“More blocks?” Melanie grinned and brought the tips of her fingers together in what looked like sign language. “More,” she repeated clearer and louder. “More.” She reached out and took Vivian’s small hands. Vivian flinched and started to turn, but Melanie gently and firmly pushed Vivian’s fingers together making the same motion as she’d done a moment before. “More.”
Vivian surprised even Luke. Disappointment is what he often felt in terms of his daughter’s general connection towards adults, himself included. Such a short time ago she’d come to live with him and he’d been patient about giving her time to adjust to the big house and swapping out a mother for a father. The first year of her life he hadn’t been around much. He’d been busy traveling al
l over the world at a moment’s notice, waiting for the next big tip. Gem hunting proved an addicting, all-consuming activity and to this day, to this very moment, a pang of separation anxiety crossed his bones at the thought of not getting out there again. He couldn’t of course, the scope of his parental responsibilities made hopping on a plane and disappearing for weeks unworkable, even with the nanny, who’d been around since Vivian’s birth.
Kendra appeared at Melanie’s side and instructed her to follow her back inside. The genuine, full smile Melanie had used around Vivian flipped to a frown. The gentle arch of her eyebrows drew two sharp angles. “I’ll leave,” Melanie said, already plopping the blocks and cup back inside the bag.
“Mr. Harrison has changed his mind. He would like to see you,” Kendra quipped.
A quick press on the window and the glass closed, giving Luke a moment to return to his desk and wait for Melanie to return. Annoyance flashed through him with every second. Every instinct told Luke to send Melanie away, to punish her for her betrayal. Luke liked to gamble and today his fingers twitched to roll the dice and ignore the bad hand about to walk through his door for the second time.
Chapter 5
The walk back down the hallway to Luke’s office felt like the slow march to torture. The hallway seemed longer than it had when she’d first arrived. Melanie couldn’t imagine what Luke wanted with her. She should be halfway to the Golden Gate Bridge by now. Home by midnight. The possibilities all pointed to some kind of embarrassment or legal threat. She’d trespassed and she’d remained on his property, and technically, he did have the upper hand in this situation.
There wouldn’t be a chance to talk about Mark and the letter. She could forget such a lofty goal. This trip had been an activity in reaching too high on a very tall shelf. The strap on her bag kept falling and her steps couldn’t sync with Kendra’s cheetah legs. The frown on Kendra’s face and her blunt silence served as acknowledgment that she’d been duped and didn’t like it one bit.