Double-Cross My Heart

by Rose, Carol

  Automatically withdrawing a Payday from the box in her drawer, Eden paused in the act of tearing open the slippery paper wrapper. Her stomach felt twisted and burning.

  She pulled the drawer open again and tossed the candy bar back inside. Some sorrows had no solace.

  Maybe she should take up hard liquor. A lot of it.

  ***

  “This is Alex Holt,” he said into the telephone. “I’d like to speak to Eden Merritt.”

  “Please hold, sir, I’ll connect you to her office.”

  “Thank you.”

  He’d sent her three emails today. To the last two, he’d attached a request for a confirmation that they’d been received. She’d gotten the first one, but he had no way of knowing if she’d read his carefully worded request for her to talk with him. When he checked just now, he’d had no indication that she’d even opened the last email.

  She wasn’t answering his calls to her cell phone, either.

  He’d never before called her on the office line, due to the delicate nature of their connection. In the corporate world, telephone calls and messages had a tendency to filter through to the very people you least wanted to know about them.

  However, if she wouldn’t respond to his emails, he’d get her attention another way. He didn’t want to cause her trouble at work, but she wasn’t giving him much option.

  His jaw tight, Alex waited while her extension rang.

  “Eden Merritt’s office, Cheryl Masters speaking.”

  “Cheryl,” he said. “This is Alex Holt. I need to speak to Eden, immediately, if possible. Is she available?”

  There was a slight pause before the woman replied, “Let me check, sir.”

  Tapping his pen against his desk, he waited, impatient for the sound of her voice on the other end of the line. She’d be angry, he knew, but he hoped to change that.

  He needed to tell her that she didn’t have to fight him…it was really all about her choices. Did she want to continue her transformation into a Wendi Williams-like corporate player or—

  “I’m sorry,” the secretary came back on the line, her voice wooden, “Ms. Merritt is not available.”

  “Well, when can I speak with her? Is she in a meeting? If you can tell me when she’s available, I’ll call back.”

  There was a significant pause before the secretary said, “There won’t be any time you can catch her today. I’m sorry.”

  Alex’s brows snapped together as an ominous conviction settled into his gut. Eden was refusing to take his call. “Tomorrow then?”

  Another pause. “You can try back, of course, but I don’t think she’ll be available tomorrow, either.”

  “Well,” he said, his anger and frustration making his voice silky, “when do you suggest I get hold of her?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  “Thank you,” he told the woman, his mouth thinned into a straight line. His love had one hard head, but he was damned if he was going to let her do this to herself without at least hearing what he had to say. “Thank you for your time.”

  One way or the other, she was going to hear what he had to say.

  ***

  Later that afternoon, Eden sat at her desk, working methodically through the stack of ad proofs. It’ll all be over soon, she told herself. Alex would stop sending her emails that she deleted. Stop calling her office.

  Sometime in the next day or so, he’d get the message and then he’d go to Michele with the truth. All hell would break loose.

  She paused, her pencil poised in mid-air. Alex would go to Michele with the truth? Did Alex even know the truth? Still, just the sight of his email addy on her screen, sent her stupid, bruised heart into orbit. That made her madder than hell. Why couldn’t she just stop caring?

  Ring! The phone of the desk next to her jangled.

  “Hello,” she said, a nervous pulse jumping in her throat.

  “Eden!” Sarah Brigg’s voice came over the connection. “Listen, I hated having to cancel our game last week. Holiday stuff came up. Let’s get together next week sometime. I know this week is crazy with you getting ready for the board meeting.”

  “Yes, it is crazy. And next week sounds good for racquetball.” Eden swallowed against the dryness in her mouth, a sick relief flooding over her. Every time the phone rang, she jumped with guilt. Not Michele calling this time. Not Wendi. Not Alex, either. Cheryl would have screened him out, of course.

  She took a breath and pinned a smile on her tight face hoping some semblance of normalcy would leak through the phone line. “Next week will be great, Sarah.”

  “Terrific,” the older woman said crisply. “Listen, that’s not the only reason I’m calling. I have something I need to tell you. I want you to be prepared for some fireworks at the board meeting on Wednesday.”

  Eden frowned immediately. Had Sarah heard something? Surely Alex didn’t go directly to Sol or the other board members. “What kind of fireworks?”

  “Well,” Sarah laughed, “nothing bad, really. I’ve been talking to Sol Klineman and Dave Sanders, and we’re seeing the need to make some changes in the company.”

  Feeling lightheaded with fear and having difficulty focusing, Eden said, “Changes?”

  “Yes,” the older businesswoman said, “I know there are a few board members who routinely back all of Michele’s recommendations, so there’s nothing for certain, but I think you should be running this company.”

  Eden swallowed and tried furiously to think. This was it. The CEO position being offered to her. She needed to say something, anything.

  She struggled to find an appropriate response. Her brain didn’t seem present in the conversation. They were giving her the company to run. Making her CEO! What the hell did she say? Did she demur for appearances sake? Say something about loyalty to Michele just so she didn’t look grasping?

  Did she thank Sarah or did that sound too wimpy? Or did some form of “about damn time” seem too offensive?

  “Did you hear what I said?” Sarah Briggs demanded.

  “Yes,” Eden replied, deciding to go with her genuine reaction. “I’m just trying to decide how to express my thankfulness that we’re all in agreement on who should run the company. At least, you, Dave Sanders, Sol Klineman and me.”

  Sarah laughed. “I think a few others will get on board. Listen, start getting together your ideas on what needs to be changed at Michele Cosmetics, other than the CEO. You want to sound smart on Wednesday.”

  “Yes, I do,” Eden agreed, her head buzzing and dizzy. “I’ll definitely have a few things to say.”

  She put the phone down in the cradle, a strange dull feeling enveloping her.

  She’d won. They were giving her the job. With the two most powerful board members backing her, the job was as good as hers.

  Everything she’d worked for all these years…sacrificed for these past few months. All the hard work. All the scheming.

  She couldn’t seem to absorb it. Exhaustion, probably. And a certain amount of shock.

  There was dancing to be done and celebrating…but she just didn’t have the energy.

  Instead, she broke down and cried.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Thunk! The blue racquetball slammed against the court wall bouncing immediately back at Eden. Raising her racquet just in time, she deflected the ball and shifted into position to meet it again as it ricocheted off the far wall.

  Whump. The ball came back at her and she swung again, sending it off in another direction. Any direction. It didn’t matter.

  Alone in the white cube that was the racquetball court, she met and slammed the ball back, over and over. Giving each swing every ounce of her power, she drove the springy blue ball away again and then again. But it always came back, as tireless and merciless as all the crap in her life.

  Her arm ach
ed. She’d have bruises, she knew, from the misses when the ball thonged against her body, not to mention from her own wavering swing that had brought the racquet up against her calf twice already.

  The two other courts lined up next to this one were empty and silent, the high bright lights illuminating the early morning hours when most members of the twenty-four hour fitness club were wisely asleep in their beds.

  They had easy lives, Eden decided, swinging the racquet viciously. Thunk! Lives where others didn’t depend on them to keep large companies running and paychecks coming in. Perhaps they had clear consciences or none at all. Either would be easier than the struggle that kept her sleepless and oppressed.

  After spending another nerve-wracking day dodging Alex’s calls and cringing from the sound of Michele’s voice in the hall, she’d finally had to leave the office early. She knew Alex’s response to her challenge would be staged at the board meeting, not ten hours away.

  There seemed little question that he’d decided to conduct their showdown at the meeting since she’d evaded his attempts to contact her. Eden knew that tomorrow she’d be vilified and accused of every wrong-doing he could even partially substantiate. Maybe a few he couldn’t.

  She’d seen the anger blazing in his eyes the other night in his office.

  Whump. Her racquet met the blue ball with decreasing force. She ached all over, her lungs burning, her legs like rubber. But she stood meeting the ball with every ounce of her strength. Perhaps complete physical exhaustion would bring rest and the blessing of unconsciousness.

  Thunk!

  What choice did she have? She had to keep moving. It did no good to think about Alex or what she could have—should have—done. Her mind was a wheel in a gerbil’s cage, all circular squeaky repetition. She’d been over and over it. There was no path but the one she was on. No choices but the ones she’d already made.

  Put a knife in Michele’s back—squeak, squeak went the wheel in her head —she knifed you first. Lie and lie again to Alex—squeak, squeak—she didn’t owe him anything—squeak, squeak—regardless of how her heart ached. She had no choice. How many times had she been round and round it?

  Eden slashed at the ball, whump, slamming it hard against the wall.

  Thunk!

  It was all so damned tiring. Her head ached and her body ached and she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything but remember Cheryl and her daughter and the mailroom guy who supported his mother. Then there was Joe in marketing and Doyle, who certainly needed his health care coverage after his accident, and that frizzy-headed secretary on the third floor who was always cracking her chewing gum when she rode the elevator…. So many people to be hurt…to be saved by her choices.

  Even if she wanted to lie down and stay down, it felt like she couldn’t, for their sakes.

  Swinging her racquet again as the blue ball flew toward her, Eden’s tired arm missed and the racquetball thumped against her hip. It bounced back, dropping to the floor in a series of little bounces. Thump, thump, thump.

  Standing in the middle of the white cube, the light overhead glaring, Eden gasped for breath. I’m basically a good person, she thought, stumbling back against the court wall. How did I get into this hell?

  And, what, if anything, could she do to get out of it?

  ***

  Pulling into her parking space at work the next morning, her head splitting from lack of sleep, her entire body tensed to face the meeting ahead, Eden found herself frowning in confusion at the parking spot next to her.

  Wendi’s spot—closest to the elevator—was filled by a large, bulky SUV instead of her shiny Mercedes.

  Around Eden, other cars were arriving, as the work day revved to a start, only this day was much more than a usual day. Today, the board would meet and this company would never be the same.

  The parking garage seemed to tremble with the combined movement of vehicles and a fiercely gusting winter wind. Even through her closed car windows, the echo of voices could be heard as co-workers exchanged comments as they hurried to the elevators. Things like pivotal board meetings didn’t have the same impact on the average worker.

  Putting on her emergency brake as she considered the black SUV in the spot next to her, Eden felt a wry smile twist her lips. She wouldn’t have thought Wendi was the SUV-type, but maybe she just liked the imposing size of the thing.

  With a mental shrug, Eden turned off the Z4’s engine and gathered her briefcase, a heavy sense of fatalism clinging to her.

  Soon it would all be over.

  Getting out of the car, lost in her thoughts, she hoisted the strap of her case over her shoulder and tried to pull her coat together against the frigid wind.

  The driver’s side door of the SUV in Wendi’s spot opened just then.

  With the bulk of the large vehicle between Eden and the elevators, she pasted on her best Wendi-smile as she rounded the back of the SUV, still clutching her coat together.

  Wendi was really insignificant, she told herself to slow the automatic increase of tension in her body. Lifting her head to acknowledge her former competitor, Eden felt her smile freeze on her face.

  “Alex!”

  He stood next to the black SUV, clearly waiting for her, looking both imposing and gorgeous. Despite every harsh word between them, she couldn’t help the hungry leap of her heart, the urgency with which her gaze clung to him.

  “And what are you doing here?” she asked in an unsteady voice, but just as quickly as the question was out of her mouth, she knew.

  He was here to expose her.

  Involuntarily, Eden glanced back at the other Michele employees arriving to work. An intense anxiety gripped her. Was there anyone in the garage who would recognize him?

  “I need to talk with you,” Alex said implacably.

  “Get out of here!” she hissed. The board meeting wasn’t scheduled for several more hours, at ten o’clock that morning, but Eden was suddenly flooded with fear of exposure what with being seen with him. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re here to threaten me with, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve already made up my mind.”

  Her body tense, she braced herself to meet his gaze. It didn’t matter that one, sick part of Eden craved the sight of him. Still, she hated that he’d come here this way. She didn’t want her involvement revealed like this—a secretive meeting to be whispered about—but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his strong, broad-shouldered form.

  Responding to her words, he said, “I’m only here because you’ve refused to talk to me any other way.”

  He stood next to the black s.u.v., his overcoat open to reveal a dark, beautifully-tailored suit. He looked every inch the marauding, all-powerful corporate raider. Every powerful, wonderful inch of him delectable and forbidden.

  “Will you just go?” she demanded angrily, very aware of the eyes all around them.

  “I’m not leaving,” he told her, “so you’d better hear me out.”

  The ringing sound of laughter as footsteps drew nearer grabbed Eden’s anxious attention. She was torn between her own crazy, insane impulse to throw herself into his unwelcoming arms and an equally powerful urgency to hide her involvement with him. No one could know! Not yet!

  “Please,” she said, her voice low. “I’ll meet you somewhere. Just go away now--”

  “No,” he interrupted. “I know you want to get rid of me, but you’ve got to hear me out. It won’t take long.”

  “I know you’re here to get me fired—“ she started to say, shifting sideways in a futile attempt to hide him from the people walking to the elevator.

  “No, I’m not,” he said with emphasis.

  “—but, if you’ll just go, I swear I’ll meet you.” She stopped, his words sinking in. “You’re not trying to get me fired? Then why the hell are you--”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,�
�� he hurried to say, lowering his voice and turning his back to the chattering group of three or four women who were walking past.

  “What have you been trying to tell me?” She frowned at him, confused and wounded in her realization that she didn’t think she’d ever stop loving this man. No matter what he did. In this sickening, heart-wrenching moment, she knew her mother’s weakness.

  “I’m not going to get you fired,” he said flatly. “And I’m not making a bid to takeover Michele Cosmetics. I’m calling off the dogs.”

  “What?” she asked, shocked.

  Another pair of footsteps and voices passed them, but she suddenly didn’t care.

  “Dammit,” he said, his voice even lower as he glanced at the Michele employees walking by. “You picked this spot. I tried to make contact some other way, but this was my only option.”

  Her heart beating so fast she felt nauseated, Eden said, “You’re not going to try to get control--”

  “No,” he said, not letting her finish. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last Wednesday—“

  A huge surge of relief flooded over her as his words began to absorb into her brain. She said, repeating stupidly, “You’re not here for the board meeting?”

  Another cluster of chattering Michele employees crowded by them, headed to the elevator. A car drove past noisily, climbing to the higher garage levels.

  “Dammit,” Alex swore again. Reaching out he took hold of her by the sleeve of her coat and drew her as far out of the path of traffic as he could. With low-voiced urgency, he said, “I came here this morning to tell you two things. Not only am I not making a bid for the company, I don’t think you should either. Don’t do this. Don’t go through with your plan to over-throw Michele. It’s not worth it, Eden. Don’t make yourself over into Wendi Williams.”

  Not even looking over as a pair of cars drove past, Eden gaped at him. “What?”

  “Shit!” he said, raking one hand through his hair. “Don’t do this, Eden. Don’t sell your soul for this company. You were right about me. I’ve spent my life making money off of other people’s failures. That’s not always a bad thing, but this plan of yours—it’s wrong for you, honey. Wrong. You may not feel an attachment to Michele anymore—“