by Claire Adams
I didn't want to tell Anna about Emily, but it seemed dishonest not to tell her, so I spent the rest of dinner replaying the events that had taken place in Sydney. When I was done, Anna looked at me thoughtfully.
"She's either not that into you or..." she trailed off.
"Or what? Don't hold back! Tell me!" I urged. Much like Honey, Anna knew the ins and outs of things, and I wanted to hear what she had to say.
"Either that or she's in a really crappy marriage and doesn't have the guts to leave," Anna announced.
"What the hell?" I said. "I checked her employee files, she claims single on her tax forms."
"That doesn't mean squat," she waved me off. "Lots of people claim single exemptions on tax forms for a wide variety of reasons. I'm just saying that she's married or something like it, and she's not happy, but she's not going to tell you that."
"How do you know these things?" I said in amazement.
"I don't know, probably because I've spent a lifetime watching other people do some of the weirdest things imaginable," she said as she speared a piece of chicken schwarma and popped it into her mouth. "Not much surprises me anymore, babe."
"So what do I do?" I asked.
"There's not much you can do," she said, tilting her head as she smiled at me. "If you pursue her, you're going to scare her off and come away looking like a billionaire douchebag. Let her do what she needs to in order to figure out her home life and then see what happens. I mean, if that's the issue. I could be totally wrong. It's been known to happen."
I laughed out loud as she said this. Anna was very rarely wrong about anything. I sat there staring at her until she looked over at me and waved her hand in my face.
"Yoo hoo, dream boy!" she called. "Anybody in there?"
I grinned sheepishly as I stood up and reached out and took her hand, pulling her toward me. It felt good to hold her, but something wasn't right.
"Austin," she said as she looked up at me and rested a hand on my cheek. "How about we just curl up on the couch and watch a movie tonight? Is that okay with you?"
"Sure, if you want to," I said surprised that she didn't want to head into the bedroom since that's usually what we did after dining together. "I mean, if that's okay with you."
"Look at me," she said. I looked down at her smiling at me and I couldn't help but smile back. "I'm not here just for the wild hot sex, though that is awfully nice if I do say so myself. I'm here because we're friends and I like being around you, sex or no sex. So, tonight, let's just hang out and be friends who watch a movie, okay?"
"Okay, then," I said visibly relieved. I would have taken Anna to bed if she'd wanted to, I mean, I'm a man and I have needs, but she wasn't who I really wanted to be with and she knew it. And, because she was my friend, she was willing to let go of that part of our relationship until I had figured things out. I looked at her again and then pulled her tightly against my chest. "You're the best, Anna."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said as she returned the hug. "Tell Mr. Right to get his ass over here and figure that out, will you?"
As we stood in the dining room holding tightly to what we'd once been and what we were now becoming, I knew right then and there that Emily Warner was different from all of the other women I'd ever dated. She was special and I was going to have to figure out what was keeping her away from me.
Chapter Thirty
Emily
I pulled into the driveway at my mother's house, turned off the car's engine, and put my head on the steering wheel and for the first time that day, I cried. The tears fell hot and fast as I felt my heart breaking. I knew down deep that Tommy wasn't going to change and that no amount of fighting was going to make this marriage work.
I felt like a failure. I was a grown woman running back home to her mother despite the fact that, on my wedding day, I'd sworn up and down that I knew what I was doing and I was sure it would work. My mother had been skeptical, but she had believed me because I'd always been true to my word. I felt like I was letting us both down.
I took a deep breath, wiped my eyes, and put a bright smile on my face as I grabbed my bags and headed in to my mother's house. If I was going to take time to think about whether my marriage was over, I was going to do it in a place where I felt safe and loved.
"Emily!" my mother exclaimed as I walked through the door dragging my bags. "Are you hungry, honey? I've got tons of leftovers from the banquet. I can fix you a plate real quick."
"Mom," I said and then dropped the bags and stood in the doorway feeling completely lost. My mother looked confused for a moment, and then she did what she does best – she kicked into action and began taking care of me.
"Now, don't just stand in the doorway staring at me." She smiled as she grabbed the handle of my travel bag. "Grab that duffle and bring it back to your room. You're in luck, I put fresh sheets on all the beds today whether they needed them or not!"
I was relieved not to have to think about anything, so I followed her orders feeling intensely grateful that she wasn't asking any questions – yet. My mother pulled my bag into the back room and then went to get me some fluffy towels saying, "You look like you could use a nice long hot shower."
I stood in the middle of the room, unsure about what to do next. I knew that once I took my traveling clothes off, I'd be admitting that things had changed and I didn't know how, so I was trying to hold on to what was still the same for as long as I could.
"Oh Emily, get out of those clothes so I can toss them in the washer for you," my mother said as she came back from the bathroom where she'd turned the taps on and started a shower for me. "You get cleaned up and I'll make you a plate. When you're ready, come to the kitchen and eat, okay?"
"Oh Mom," I began.
"No, you shower first and let me make you some food, then we'll talk about what's got you so riled up that you show up unannounced." Then she continued more softly, "I'm glad you're here, baby. Now get to the shower before all the hot water runs out!"
I laughed as I pulled off all of my clothes. I felt like I'd been in them for days, and it was freeing to hand them over to my mother for laundering. I grabbed underwear, a t-shirt, and a pair of shorts out of my duffle bag and made my way to the shower were I stood under the pounding water until it began to run cold.
I studied myself in the mirror as I dried off. I was twenty-three, but the past couple of days had made me feel like I was a decade older. So, I put on the best smile I had and went out to talk with my mother.
#
"Mom, I'm hungry!" I called as I walked into the kitchen to find her setting the table. "I thought you were just making me a plate."
"Well, I got going and thought why not just whip up a meal for both of us," she laughed. The table was set with butter, jam, honey and syrup and my mother was at the stove watching over three skillets as she whipped up creamy scrambled eggs, browned greasy sausages and a fluffy stack of pancakes – breakfast for dinner was my mother’s specialty. The smell was intoxicating and my stomach started growling as I sat down and took a sip of juice.
"So, talk to me, baby," she said as she slid the spatula under a bubbly pancake and quickly flipped it. "Tell me why you're spending the night at your mother's house and not at your own."
"Mom, I don't know what to do anymore," I blurted. "Tommy has changed so much and I can't take care of him anymore."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I mean, he slid into a depression after the injury and he's never come out of it," I said. "I've tried everything I can think of to get him help, but he's decided that drinking and rebuilding cars in the back yard is the answer. I'm sick of it."
My mother said nothing as she turned the sizzling sausages in the pan and stirred the eggs a bit. She added two more pancakes to the stack and then poured more batter into the pan. I had always marveled at her ability to multi-task while cooking. She was the only person I knew who could deliver several plates of steaming hot food to the table all at the same time, all perfectly
cooked.
"Baby girl, you made a promise to that man when you married him," she said. "Now, you have to do the best you can to fulfill that promise."
"But, Mom, I didn't sign on for the drinking or his irresponsibility," I protested.
"That's what marriage is all about, baby," she said. "You stick with it whether or not it's what you signed on for, and you find a way to make it work."
I stared at her in disbelief. I'd never seen my mother so stubbornly unbending, and it was disturbing. My whole life, she'd been the one who had always seen everyone else's point of view and urged me to look at different perspectives before rushing to judgment and now, at the moment when I most needed her to be fair and unbiased, she was digging her heels in and telling me I didn't have a choice.
"Mom, what's wrong with you?" I asked quietly.
"Nothing is wrong with me," she replied tersely. "I'm just telling you that I raised you to be a person who makes good on your promises, not someone who walks away from things when you don't like what's happening."
"Mom..." I trailed off unsure of what to say in response. She wasn't telling me what I wanted to hear, that was for sure, but she also was being completely unfair.
"Look, not everyone gets the chance you have to make things right," she said. "You need to get in there and fight for your marriage and turn things around. You can't just walk away."
"But what if I'm not happy?" I asked.
"Who said anything about happiness?" she shot back. "You're going to find out that life isn't all about rainbows and sunny skies. Sometimes it's dark and ugly, and that's when you find out what you're made of."
"Mom..." I said looking at her helplessly.
"Eat your dinner," she urged as she piled eggs and sausages on my plate. "It's going to get cold."
I sat across the table looking at the woman who had raised me, wondering why I suddenly had no idea who she was, as I went through the motions of eating. By the time I was done, my stomach felt full, but my heart ached with emptiness.
The way she felt about my marriage confused me, and I wasn't about to tell her about the added complication of Austin Marks. She'd never understand.
Chapter Thirty-One
Austin
I walked into the office before sunrise the next morning only to find Bax already sitting at his desk tapping away at the keyboard. Walter Edward Baxter III had been my best friend for more than a decade. He hated his given name, so when we'd started college he told everyone that his name was Bax and then refused to elaborate. That mystery was only part of Bax's appeal.
"Hey, boss," he smiled. Bax had an unsettling way of always looking like he was ready to either head to a formal dinner or the beach. His five o'clock shadow had been infamous in college and he'd cultivated a look between Hollywood star and washed up surfer that never failed to make people ask if they knew him from somewhere else. He was good-natured about it, but he never gave much away. It didn't help that he dressed like a fashion model wearing Zegna suits without ties and loafers without socks, even in the winter. On the upside, when I was with him, I knew I could safely fade into the background and operate virtually unnoticed. I think that was one of the reasons we'd been best friend since our freshman year of college. I let him have the spotlight and he let me hide out in the shadows.
"Morning, what's up?" I replied.
"Just wanted to get in early and get the research on the Australian site done before you meet with Daniel and the gang," he said.
"How did you-" I stopped. Of course, he would have had Johanna prepped to let him know about anything going on with Daniel. Bax would never let me face the den of lions alone and unprotected.
"So, I did some digging around and found out that Daniel has been in contact with some guys who are well known for sabotaging construction sites," he began with a grim look. "But what I can't figure out is how he's connected to them. There's nothing on the servers linking him to any messages or information that these guys would have, and I've had the phone company scan his cell service for any exchange of messages. I'm coming up empty."
"If he's behind this, he's doing an excellent job of covering his tracks," I agreed. "The question is whether he is actually behind the rumors or if this is another problem entirely."
"That's what disturbs me," Bax said as he rubbed his chin with one hand. "It's a rumor that has all the hallmarks of being started by his gang, but there's nothing linking them directly to it. If we falsely accuse him of interfering with the project, then we get treated as the petulant outsiders who know nothing about the business."
"And if we don't respond to it, then we're the idiots who let a billion-dollar project collapse," I finished. "Either way, we lose and he wins."
"Precisely," Bax nodded as he tapped a few keys and waited for a screen to materialize. "My gut tells me that this is by design."
"So, how do you want to play this?" I asked as he stared intently at the screen of his computer reading something of great interest. "Bax?"
"Huh? Oh yeah," he said distractedly. "Let me do a little more digging and get back to you, okay?"
"I have to meet with them at eight," I said. "So, don't wait too long to let me in on this little idea of yours, okay?"
"I won't," he said waving me off. "I promise!"
I walked out of his office and down the hall toward my own wondering what Bax would find and whether we could hold off a hostile takeover of Marks Enterprises with the information.
#
An hour later, Bax came striding into my office with a handful of printouts and a frown on his face saying, "You need to get on a flight back to Sydney now, boss."
"Why? What's going on?" I asked as I took the papers from him and scanned the pictures. There were workers milling about in front of the construction site holding signs that looked like picket protest signs. "What is this?"
"It looks like they're getting ready to go on strike," he said.
"I see that," I shot back. "I mean, what's going on? Why are they striking?"
"I don't know," Bax replied as he ran a hand through his hair. "I can't get anyone to pick up the phone at the main office and the foreman doesn't have a cell phone."
"Buck promised me that they weren't going to strike," I said as I looked the rest of the photos. I didn't recognize any of the men in the shots, but then I hadn't been on the job site that long the day I addressed them, so it didn't surprise me.
"Well, he’s obviously lost control of the crew," he replied. "You need to get over there and stop this, Austin. If this project gets suck, we are going to be in deep financial trouble and the rest of the company will suffer. We can't let this get delayed and we most definitely do not need the bad press that will result from a strike."
"This is bullshit!" I shouted. "We're not doing anything wrong over there and they have no reason to strike!"
"Then, hop on a plane and get over there and stop it," Bax said quietly. "Austin, we don't have a choice here. You have to go."
"Fine," I sighed, knowing that he was right. "Get the jet ready to fly. Pull a first class crew off one of the commercial flights and get them ready to go by noon."
I looked down at the photos again as an image of Emily standing in the aisle of the cabin popped into my mind. If I was going to have to go back to Sydney, I wanted another chance with her, too.
"Hey, Bax?" I called.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Call and get the crew that flew us over last week," I said in an even tone, trying not to give anything away.
"Pretty girl, eh?" Bax grinned.
"No, they were just efficient, and I liked that," I told him, trying to hang on to my pride.
"I got it, I'll take care of it," he said with a grin that told me he knew what was up, but that was willing to let me hang on to the illusion of efficiency.
I nodded at him and then went back to preparing for my meeting with Daniel. I wasn't about to let him know he was on the verge of gaining the upper hand.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Emily
I had spent a restless night tossing and turning as I thought about what my mother had said and wondered why she was so intent on pushing me to hang on to a marriage that was obviously falling apart. When I finally fell asleep, I was tossed into a sea of dreams that had me ping ponging between two shores in an attempt to find a calm bit of water. Off in the distance, I heard a ship's distress signal sounding again and again.
I surfaced from my dream to find my cell phone ringing on the nightstand near my head.
"Hello?" I answered in a sleepy voice.
"Ms. Warner?" asked a deep voice on the other end.
"Speaking," I mumbled.
"Ms. Warner, this is Mr. Baxter from Austin Marks' office," said the voice. I shook my head and propped myself up on my arm.
"Yes? What can I do for you?" I replied suddenly very awake.
"Ms. Warner, Mr. Marks needs you to be part of the crew on a private flight to Sydney leaving at noon today," Mr. Baxter said. "I'm sending a car for you right now. Can you be ready in one hour?"
"Yes, yes, of course. Let me give you the address of where I am. Is everything all right?" I said, explaining where I was.
"I'll let Mr. Marks explain," Mr. Baxter said. "Please pack for a five-day layover and be ready to prep the private plane when you arrive on the tarmac."
"Of course, I will," I said as I looked around the room and realized that I hadn't unpacked from the last trip or even done any laundry.
"Very well, the car will be there in one hour. Please be ready to leave," he said before disconnecting.
I looked at the phone for a moment before I got up and yelled, "Mom! I need help!" as I got out of bed and began unzipping my luggage and throwing things into the middle of the room.
It wasn't more than a minute before I my mother rushed into the room with a worried look on her face.
"I just got a call from the executive in charge of Mr. Marks' travel, and I have to be ready to be on a private flight in an hour," I said as I held up two handfuls of dirty laundry. "Can you wash and dry these for me?"