Della

by Julie Michele Gettys

  She could tell by his shocked expression that he suspected she knew.

  As the silent moments passed, the blood pumped in her ears and her vision blurred. She kept her gaze averted from Steven’s. If that old saying about knees knocking were true, the room would have sounded like someone shaking the hell out of one of those old skeletons in the biology closet. She continued gripping the table, bracing her legs against her chair.

  Finally, Jack said, “I don’t know what you’re referring to.” He gave her the evil eye.

  Here it comes. His nostrils were flaring.

  “Share with the board that wonderful idea I gave you a few years back that you decided to shelve until now. You know, contracting foreign tourist attractions and promoting them here.”

  “Oh, that.” He slapped his hand on the table and laughed it off. “I didn’t think that would make any difference in this transaction.”

  Della marched to the blackboard. She had done her homework, too. She started scribbling, as fast as her hand would skitter across the board, some astounding figures. “This is the least profit you’ll show if my projections are correct.” She showed a new profit line that nearly doubled current profits. “And these are only first-year projections.”

  Jack bolted out of his chair. “Where did you come up with those ludicrous figures? They’re totally unrealistic.”

  “I beg to differ. I’ve seen your contracts. I had done specs for you. I added inflation.”

  Dan Wright slammed a palm on the table. “I’ve seen enough. I suggest we take a sample vote, see how far off we are. If there’s not a majority, we’ll pursue this further.”

  Wes rose. “Thank you, Jack. Della will be in touch with you with our decision. If we need you to come back to do another presentation, we’ll call.”

  Jack gathered his papers, glaring at Della the whole time. He left in a huff without a word.

  The vote was unanimous. Keep Globe Travel.

  Now, all Della had to do was wait Jack out.

  Would he try to take her down?

  16

  Following the board’s decision to keep Globe Travel, Della waited a day before meeting with Jack Davis. No fax this time. They’d go over this in person.

  Steven had taken off on an errand for Wes. His days of shadowing her were diminishing, making life easier for her since their love affair had blossomed. Playing platonic around the staff became more difficult each day.

  The possibilities that lay ahead with the conniving Jack sent chills through her.

  Sarah Bowland, Della’s cute young secretary strolled in with her steno pad in hand. Five years did make a difference when she compared herself to Sarah. Thirty had been a turning point–she saw herself as mature now. Here stood Sarah with her golden locks, a darling little turned-up nose, not a line or a crease anywhere around those seductive blue eyes that drew men to her like bees to blossoms. She was slender, yet rounded in all the right places, perfect for Steven. Jesus, Della, what in the hell are you doing, preparing yourself for a senior moment? This relationship with Steven was supposed to be just for fun. Nothing serious. They made that promise to each other. For the past four and a half years, she’d made sure she hadn’t put herself in a position where she wasn’t in control. Now she was out of control again.

  Sarah slid into her usual seat at the side of Della’s desk. “You look as pasty as Casper in the Thanksgiving Parade. What’s the matter?”

  The phone rang. Sarah grabbed for the receiver. “Della Garland’s office.” She paused, smiled, handed Della the phone. “It’s Steven.”

  “Yes, Steven,” she said, trying to sound businesslike.

  “How’s this for good news? I’m moving to L.A. permanently.”

  She momentarily forgot Sarah’s presence and let out a yelp for joy. Without thinking, she said, “We’ll celebrate at my place?” She hung up, then immediately caught her mistake.

  “You blew it,” Sarah said with a grin. “But your secret is safe with me.”

  Della got up and paced her office. “I can’t believe I did that after all this time.”

  “I must admit, you two are pretty good at covering up. I’m dumbstruck, threefold.”

  She whipped around. “What does that mean?”

  “He’s the cutest hunk in the building, maybe even on the Strip; he’s the boss’s son; and he’s young–”

  “That’s enough,” Della interrupted. “I understand all those things.”

  “Too bad you can’t tell everyone. You’d be the envy of all.”

  “I don’t want to be the envy of anyone.” erHer emotions were tangled knots. “I’m breaking every rule I’ve ever made for myself. I must be pretty lonely to allow this to happen, or pretty stupid. I’m putting my career on the line. Everything.”

  “How long has this little tryst been going on?”

  “Several weeks.”

  “You’d never guess it. I see you two together all the time, and you’re strictly business. So, don’t worry. Shows you can pull this off.”

  “I’d like to break if off.” Della sat at her desk, leaned back in her large leather chair and sighed. “What a mess.”

  “If word gets out, it won’t be coming from me. Do you think Wes would be upset if he knew? He’s pretty fond of you. I’d think he’d like the idea of his son and his protege being involved. Make it a family thing.”

  “I don’t think so, Sarah. Wes is against the company pen and ink business.”

  A knock came at the door. Jack Davis stepped in with two bouquets of roses, one red, one yellow. They filled the air with their scent. He handed Sarah the red and Della the yellow, her favorite. If he thought the board had voted in his favor and he came with roses to thank her, he was in for one helluva shock.

  “I heard I’m staying,” he said with a big smile that immediately set Della on edge. This wasn’t Jack’s M.O.

  “So, why the flowers?”

  Sarah took both bouquets and left to put them in water.

  “You know the grapevine in this place.” Jack took a seat. “May I?”

  She nodded.

  “You can find out anything within moments. I knew ten minutes after the vote.”

  “And you’re not upset?”

  “Let’s just say, I’ll run the company to the best of my ability. I wanted it back, I didn’t get it. C’est la vie.” He leaned on her desk, his chin in his palm. “I’m my own worst enemy. I should have gone to attorneys outside Gates. At the time, I wasn’t planning to buy Globe back.”

  “Was it because I was put in charge of your company?”

  “Believe it or not, that wasn’t the reason. I guess the day you went to work for Gates, I knew you’d get the last laugh.”

  “I’m not laughing. I don’t find any of this amusing.” She fiddled with a paperclip, unbending it, bending it back, faking blasé. She cleared her throat. “And your threats to expose my past?”

  “They were just threats. You have nothing to worry about from me.” He rose, stretched. “You’re the one gambling with your future. It’ll come out someday. I’m surprised Wes didn’t run a check on you; he has on everyone else.” Jack raised a pencil-thin eyebrow and said slowly and threateningly, “You have enough enemies without me getting in your way.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she snapped back.

  “Oh, you know how it is when you’re all-powerful. There’s always someone out there who hates you.” He left.

  Alone, she slid down in her chair, closed her eyes and wondered if all this was worth it.

  Della spent the evening home alone on the terrace reading a magazine when the phone rang. It was probably Steven checking in, as he did on his nights out with the boys, a practice she encouraged. They spent as many nights together as possible. It was a wonder Carrie and Wes didn’t suspect something. However, she and Steven didn’t drive to work together. He returned home before dawn each day. They maintained a professional front at all times, except for those lovely hours when they were
alone at her place. Della didn’t feel comfortable going to a restaurant or a movie unless it was somewhere out in the boonies. Even in those out of the way places, she was a bit nervous, craning her neck to see if anyone she knew might be present, always happy to get home without being discovered, out of harm’s way.

  “Hi,” she said in a breathy tone, knowing it had to be him.

  A long silence followed. “Hello?” she said again.

  More silence.

  The line crackled. She dropped the receiver in its cradle and started to walk away. A telemarketer, no doubt.

  It rang again.

  She let it ring three more times before picking it up. Surely, someone had dialed the wrong number and accidentally repeated it. “Hello?”

  More silence.

  Someone was there. When she received one of those computer calls, the line usually had a dead sound; this line was alive on the other end. “If you don’t say something, I’ll hang up.”

  More crackling on a hollow line.

  She slammed down the phone, annoyed at what she perceived was a prank call.

  The next time it rang, she didn’t bother picking it up. She returned to the terrace, resumed her magazine, listened to it ring and ring. She must hook up that new answering machine she had stored in the closet. That would take care of telemarketers, wrong numbers, the works.

  Later, after settling down in bed to finish a novel she’d been wading through, the phone rang again. This had to be Steven. She picked up on the first ring. A computer-generated voice said, “If I were you, I’d resign from your job before your career blows up in your face. Like bang!” She heard a bizarre chuckle, then a hang-up, leaving her stunned and shaking.

  That night, when she wanted him, needed him most, Steven didn’t call.

  Della said nothing the next day at work. She chalked those calls up to Jack Davis. He was the only one she knew who’d be that low. He’d been too accepting of his defeat. No use alarming Wes or the other VPs over a crank call.

  But leaving Steven out of the loop was another matter. That evening in her apartment, after telling him about the calls, she said, “So, do I have something to worry about?” He sat at the foot of the bed, rubbing her feet.

  He jumped up. “How could you keep such a thing to yourself? I don’t trust that SOB as far as I can throw him. We need to talk to my dad about this.”

  She rose up on her elbows, dreamy-eyed from the foot rub. “Let’s wait. This is right up Jack’s alley. Let him hang himself, then I can fire him and be done with it.”

  He settled down, took her left foot and massaged it gently. “We’re talking with Dad tomorrow.” Slowly, the warmth of his hands totally captivated her.

  “You’re one sexy woman,” he said.

  “You have no idea how good that sounds.”

  “There are more of those sounds where that came from.”

  She reached out and pulled him down to kiss him. “Is it okay to love you in an affair-sort of way?”

  “You can love me in any sort of way.” With his palm under her head, he lifted her up and kissed each eyelid. “That's so you'll never look at another man as long as I’m around.” He inched his other hand under the lapel of her robe and gently ran his fingers over her breasts. She shivered, wondering if he looked at other women.

  “Not now, buddy,” she babbled in a gravelly voice. “Later, after dinner and we come back from the spa.”

  He drew back, squeezed her thigh. “Liar! You told me you'd do it any time.”

  “Okay, I lied.” She sprang up and ran to the shower, laughing. “Later, my man. I'll do something you've been wanting me to do.” At the bathroom door, she arched her back and gyrated her hips. “Get the picture?”

  Before he had time to respond, she had closed the bathroom door behind her. As soon as she had enough steam built up, she wrote I LOVE YOU STEVEN across the mirror. She stepped into the shower and let the pulsating jets of hot water soothe her aching muscles. Just having Steven here removed part of the sting she felt over Jack Davis’s outlandish, obsessive behavior. That prank call had to be from him.

  To break out of her mood, she turned the water from hot to ice cold. As soon as goose bumps covered every inch of her body, she turned the water off, stepped out of the shower and dried herself with a fluffy towel.

  Though slightly faded, her message to Steven was still visible on the mirror. Smiling to herself, she hung the towel on the brass rod, yanked off the shower cap and freed her hair.

  “Hey in there, dinner’s on. I brought you a martini. You said you wanted to get skunked, so let's get started.”

  Now, that sounded good. In a few moments, the crystalline liquid would drown those crummy little butterflies that, if not controlled, could wreck what might be a perfect evening. She flung the door open to his admiring gaze. He scanned her naked body and smiled.

  “Don't get any ideas,” she warned him. “I'm saving it for later.” To discourage advances, she flung her arms over her breasts, crossed her legs and began giggling.

  “We had a name for girls like you back in school.”

  “Yeah, prick teasers! Some things never change.”

  He laughed, handed her the drink, looked at the mirror and grinned. “Hey, nice message. You mean it?”

  She smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

  “May I come in and watch you put on your face?”

  “If you promise to just watch and keep your hands to yourself.”

  “It'll be tough, but just being with you will be enough, maybe.” He stepped into the steaming room and sat on the toilet seat.

  “I fixed one of these killers for myself.” He held up his glass, then slid it across her bare belly. She shivered. “I didn't want you flying solo. Besides, you're such a sloppy drunk, I couldn't stand it if I were sober.”

  She turned from side to side, checking her makeup and hair.

  “You're a knockout.” He reached out and ran his hand over her round buttocks. “Smooth, and look at those tits standing up at attention. Most women your age are starting to trap them in wired bras to make them look like that.”

  Turning to him, feeling her thirty years, she winced. “They’ll be heading south soon enough.” Another reminder of their ages. She slipped on a lace-frosted peignoir shimmering with tiny pearls, then with a towel wiped her love message to Steven from the mirror.

  “Ah, you not only covered up the most beautiful body in the world, you erased the most precious love note I've ever received.” He stood behind her, set his glass down and pulled her to his chest. To her reflection, he said, “I’m in love with you, Della. You're perfect for me.”

  She turned, tickled him under the chin. “You're saying things in a different way than they’re supposed to be said.”

  He took her hand and led her back into the bedroom, a look of determination on his face. “I’m doing everything within my power to keep from tossing you onto that bed and making love to you.”

  “We’ll make love later. Let’s just play.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him down on top of her. He opened her peignoir and within moments, they were panting and writhing. When they finished, she sat up and grimaced. “I guess I’ll have to start over with the face and hair.”

  “Your face is beautiful. Put that pinky thing back on and we can have dinner. If I had my way, I’d keep you looking like this for the rest of your life.”

  “Oh, Steven. Isn’t this great? We’re celebrating you staying in L.A. and all its possibilities. Let's go get our dinner organized.”

  “It is,” Steven answered with a gleam in his eye. “I put the coals in the barbecue, the steaks are marinating, I fixed the salad–well, poured the salad from a bag and put it in the refrigerator, and the potatoes are in the microwave. You only have to light the candles.”

  “Well, why didn't you do that, too?” she teased. No man had ever been so good to her. “When did you have time to do all this?”

  “While you were in the shower.”


  “I don’t believe it.” She tweaked his nose. “You’re so damned organized.”

  He nudged her toward the living room. “I guess I should think about moving in here one of these days.”

  “You're joking, of course.” That was going to be her suggestion later tonight. But living together might be dangerous.

  After dinner out on the terrace, she said, “Let's change, go up to the roof and sit in the spa.”

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Now, that’s a nice way to end a romantic dinner. “You get ready and I’ll be right in.”

  She danced into the bedroom, singing over her shoulder, “I like your style, my man.”

  Moments later, in front of the full length mirror, after slipping into her bathing suit she glanced down and, from the lamp light behind her, spotted the first glimpse of cellulite on her inner thighs. “Horsepucky,” she muttered, “it's here.” She ran her fingers over her cheeks, checking for traces of age. She still looked good, but telltale signs were beginning to appear, fine smile lines at the corners of her eyes. Was that a thin furrow on her forehead? Hell, no, it was a frown. She laughed.

  Steven sauntered in and stripped down to change. She couldn't help but see the reflection of his strong, supple body behind her in the full length mirror. Next to him, she felt flabby. Not a wrinkle, line or sag marred his youthful body.

  She flushed when he caught her staring at him.

  “Like what you see?”

  “I love it. I just wish it was older.”

  “Are you back on that again?” He walked over to her, took her in his arms. “Men age faster than women, die younger.” He ran his fingers down her cheek, then patted her on the butt. “It just doesn’t matter. Where's my bathing suit?”

  “I put it in the top dresser drawer.”

  “That’s nice. You’re making me feel at home.” He slipped it on, gave her an attentive look. “Let's go get in the spa, then make good on your promise.”

  She threw her beach robe over her shoulders and pointed to the door. “You get the champagne, I'll get the towels and meet you in the living room.”