One Summer Night

by Caridad Piñeiro

  Maybe later, when he got home, she’d try to talk to him about it. For now, she dragged the papers before her again and went back to examining the financial reports for the stores. Store sales were up slightly at the suburban locations but way higher at the flagship store that had been the biggest drain on the company. The Savannah Courtyard looked like it would cover the costs of operations and repay the monies spent on the renovation in only a couple of weeks. After that, it would be making a small profit.

  In a few days, the Winter Wonderland would reopen with another big ceremony. The print ads and television commercials started airing tomorrow, together with the social media campaign that included videos from their employees and photos and stories from their customers.

  It all looked to be going in the right direction, and if it kept up, this holiday season might be enough to right the ship and keep the stores afloat. She dared to dream that it would also be sufficient to make the payments to keep her from losing the Sea Kiss home and her town house.

  The beep of the security system alerted her to Owen’s entry, and she shut down her laptop and hurried to greet him. She didn’t want to continue with this guardedly polite way of living together, and she was willing to set aside her own fears and doubts to set things right.

  * * *

  Owen had just dropped his briefcase by the table in the foyer when Maggie came down the stairs, a hesitant smile on her face. Her blue eyes, the barometer of her emotions, were a turbulent indigo as they had been the last couple of weeks.

  His heart seemed to skip a beat as she waited on the last step but then stepped into his arms and tucked her head against his. The embrace melted some of the icy fear that had been in his gut for weeks and gave him hope they could go back to the way they’d been before their fight.

  “I missed you,” she said and kissed him, the touch of her lips hesitant at first but growing more fluid, warmer, as he returned her greeting.

  “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry I’m a little late, but the Upper East Side project has gone south.” After an early easy start on the redevelopment, they’d hit snag after snag, including a lawsuit from the owner of a nearby apartment complex who claimed the construction of the much taller building would result in the loss of his air rights. While legal actions like this were too commonplace and often settled out of court, the litigation had brought construction to a standstill while they tried to reach a compromise. Every day that they weren’t working was money lost. Money he couldn’t afford to lose in light of the deal he’d made with Maggie, as his father had reminded him with both an email and a surprise personal visit.

  “Anything I can do to help?” she asked and started a slow massage of the knotted muscles on his neck and shoulders.

  “That feels good.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, savoring the feel of her hands on him, relaxing in rough spurts until the last of the tension had disappeared. He looked at her and smiled. “Thanks. That really helped. Have you eaten?”

  She nodded. “Connie and I went out for dinner, but I ordered some penne to bring home for you. I can heat it up if you want.”

  “I want,” he said, truly famished. He’d spent the day running between assorted constructions sites and the lawyers and hadn’t had a chance to eat.

  “Get yourself some wine while I heat it up,” she said and brushed a kiss across his cheek, the caress so easy and freely given that he hoped things were heading back to normal between them.

  He did as she suggested and poured them both glasses of a nice cabernet franc Jonathan had recommended. The bottle was from a relatively unknown vineyard in Washington State, but a first sip confirmed that it had been a good choice. The taste was smooth with overtones of some kind of berry.

  As Maggie set the breakfast bar for him, he handed her a glass over the counter. “Try this.”

  She took a taste and smiled. “Delicious.”

  “Jon recommended it. Yet another of his many talents,” he said and was a little surprised by the nuanced jealousy in his voice.

  Maggie immediately picked up on it. “You have your own talents. Very special ones, I might add,” she said and, after a moment’s hesitation, glanced at him with a gaze so heated, he had to take a sip of his wine to cool the ardor her look had ignited.

  “Glad you like them,” he teased back, relief settling into him that there seemed to be a change from the reticence that had hovered over them since the fight.

  She left him only long enough to take a big bowl out of the microwave and place it before him. Then she scooted around the counter and sat on a stool beside him, watching as he ate the first few bites hurriedly. When the initial bite of hunger had subsided a little, he glanced over in her direction and said, “It looks like you had a good day.”

  “A good two months to be exact. It looks like some of the changes are working.”

  “That’s good to hear, Maggie. I’m sure it’s a big relief for you.”

  “But not for you. Your father won’t be pleased with the turnaround.”

  No, he wouldn’t, but Owen would deal with that in time. “I’m not sure there’s much that would make that miserable old man happy.”

  He shoveled more food into his mouth, but the discussion made it difficult to enjoy what was otherwise a very tasty penne in vodka sauce.

  Maggie smoothed a hand across his arm as it rested on the counter. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  He shoved in one last forkful of pasta before swiveling around on the stool to face her. “You didn’t. Upset is just a natural state of being when it comes to my dad. So what will you do next? After the holiday season?”

  * * *

  Maggie had already made detailed plans for the spring season, but even if they managed to turn a decent enough profit for the winter season, continuing the progress would probably take the infusion of a good chunk of any profits they made. She hoped she’d have enough for that and for paying off the debt on her homes.

  “I’ve talked to another designer for a special line just in time for Easter. We’re also discussing having a huge flower show on the main floor to invite people to come in and chase away the winter blues. After that, another exclusive designer line for beachwear. Hopefully, we’ll have the money for all that, and don’t read this as my asking for another loan. You’ve already done more than I could have expected, and I fully intend to pay you back as we agreed.”

  He cupped her cheek and smiled. “I always thought you would do it, Maggie. I’m happy that I could help,” he said, his voice filled with pride, helping to dissipate some of the concerns she’d had the past couple of weeks.

  Since it was so easy to talk to him about business things and she’d come to rely on his sharp mind in the nearly two months they’d been married, she said, “I’ve been toying with a few possibilities. Like getting the shareholders on the board to allow us to issue some more shares to sell now that I can show investors we’re not necessarily a losing proposition. I’m just worried they might want my dad and me to divest ourselves of some of our shares and lose our majority position as payback for allowing us to do that.”

  He made a face. “And give up more control of your baby to those board members?”

  He’d hit her concern right on the head. Before, when it had been a possible way to save the company, she would have relinquished that control, but now she had a touch more leeway if the holiday season shaped up as well as the current numbers were predicting.

  “What would you do?” she asked, wanting to show him that she was able to set aside her fears and trust him.

  He searched her features as if to confirm that she was serious. When he saw that she was, he shrugged, took a sip of his wine, and a second later, whipped a pen out of his suit jacket pocket and began doodling on his napkin. She watched as he sketched something with swift strokes of his pen, and before her eyes, a building took shape on the pap
er.

  He pushed the napkin in front of her. “You could redevelop the Main Line store. The area needs more hotel and residential choices. The lower level or two would be retail, maybe even another Savannah Courtyard. The demographics for that area would eat up a place like that.”

  She examined the design, picturing the location. There certainly was enough land and parking on that property for the kind of changes he had proposed. With multiple universities in the area, as well as nearby businesses, hotel rooms were always in high demand. Likewise reasonably priced residential units, like condos or apartments.

  “This definitely looks like an interesting possibility. Even if we had to close the store while we did it, we could transfer the employees to our nearby locations. It might take them longer to get to work, but I wouldn’t want to lose some of our better people.”

  “Is that a royal ‘we’ or did you really mean ‘we’ as in ‘you and me’?” he asked, his gaze trained on her face, his eyes clouded with the doubt and fear that had crept into their relationship over the last few weeks.

  She gestured between the two of them and said, “You and me. Together, right?”

  * * *

  Owen offered her a hesitant grin and nodded, liking the thought of the two of them working on that project and others. He ignored the little voice in his head that was shouting out a warning about his father and the lie and how it could all go to shit in no time flat.

  “Together. I’ll do some rough estimates on what something like this would cost. See how long it would take for the project and what kind of financing we’d need. It may have to wait until I get this issue with the Upper East Side project resolved.”

  “Is it causing that much of a problem for you?”

  “Enough of one,” he said, but held back, considering for the moment whether this would be the right time to tell her about the lie he’d told his father. But as he met her gaze, so filled with concern and love, he feared that it was too soon to tell her. Maybe a little later, once she had fewer doubts about his motives and understood that he’d done it for love. For her.

  “It’ll be fine. Lawsuits like this happen all the time. It’s just that between the delay and the legal costs, it’s becoming more expensive than I expected,” he said.

  “If there’s anything I can do to help, you’d let me know, right?” she asked, her tone innocent and trusting. Which only made him feel like more of a shit for not confessing his lie and doubling down on it.

  “I’d tell you. How about we take this upstairs? Maybe get a fire started?” he said.

  Her blue eyes widened, and desire darkened them to the fathomless blue of the ocean at night. She licked her lips and said, “Did I ever tell you about my fantasy featuring you, me, and the fireplace?”

  Pressure built in his gut as he imagined just what it was. “No, you didn’t.”

  She grabbed hold of his hand and urged him from the stool. She shot him a siren’s smile and said, “I guess it’s time I show you.”

  Chapter 31

  It seemed like weeks since they’d made love in front of the fireplace, satisfying the erotic dream that had provided so many sleepless nights before marrying Owen. She hadn’t slept much that night either, since they’d cuddled and talked late into the night before passion had risen again and needed satisfying.

  They’d fallen asleep barely before dawn and been late to work, but it had been worth it. Their talk and that passionate night had restored the happiness that they’d shared in the first few months of their marriage.

  In the week since that night, they’d barely seen each other. She’d had one emergency after another crop up at the stores, and Owen had been in the throes of settlement discussions regarding the lawsuit on the Upper East Side project. By the time both arrived home each night, they’d drop into bed exhausted.

  Luckily, it looked like she’d be home tonight at a regular hour, and she was hoping Owen would be as well. Engaging the video app on her phone, she called him, and it took a few tries for him to answer. When he did, his exhaustion was evident in the dark circles beneath his eyes and drawn features.

  “How’s it going?” she asked, hoping that the settlement negotiations were going better than he looked.

  “Some progress, but I’ll be late again. We’ll be done here by five, but then I have to head back to my office to catch up on everything else I’ve neglected.”

  She wanted to remind him she’d been one of those things he’d neglected, but in all fairness, she’d been just as busy the last week.

  “I understand. Take it easy. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

  He smiled, but it was halfhearted and didn’t reach his eyes. “Later” was all he said and disconnected the call.

  She’d be done by five as well, and if he couldn’t make it home, she intended to bring a touch of home to his office to make life a little easier for him. Jumping on the internet, she tracked down a menu for one of their favorite spots near his building and picked out a few items that would work well as takeout. She called the restaurant and placed the order, asking for it to be ready by five thirty. It would only take her fifteen minutes or so to do the crosstown walk and head up to the low Fifties and Owen’s office.

  With that plan in place, she returned to her own pile of papers, eagerly anticipating the impromptu dinner with her newlywed husband.

  * * *

  For long moments after ending the call with Maggie, Owen stood outside the conference room, contemplating just how much he missed his wife after a week of barely seeing each other. He hadn’t really given much thought to what a marriage between two workaholics might be like, but he was certain that this wasn’t what he wanted for his relationship with Maggie. Marching back into the conference room, he faced his lawyer and the opposing counsel who were still quibbling over the consideration Owen was willing to pay to resolve the legal action. He slammed his hands on the table, drawing the attention of one and all.

  “Let me make myself clear, in case I wasn’t clear before. We both know the games that get played in our industry, but this is my final offer. If your client wants to dicker and continue to hold me up, that’s fine. I have a building over on Eighty-Ninth, right next to the one your client just bought, and I understand you’ll need some variances from your neighbors for what you have planned.”

  “Is that a threat?” his opponent’s attorney asked, a stony look on his face.

  “It’s a fact. I’m going back to my office now, because I have work to do,” he said and didn’t wait for either of the attorneys to reply before exiting the room.

  He sat down at his desk and quickly scrolled through his emails, doing a triage of those that seemed to be the most urgent. Half a dozen or so emails later, it was half past five o’clock, and he couldn’t imagine staying late again tonight. Especially since he knew Maggie might be home already.

  Gathering up the papers on his desk, he was sorting them into piles based on importance when his father marched into his office. He stood there in his black suit, holding on to the chair before Owen’s desk, looking like a crow sitting on a fence.

  Owen hoped that whatever he wanted wouldn’t take too long, because he was eager to get home and be with Maggie. He marshalled his control and, with a faked pleasant smile on his face, said, “Good evening, Father. What can I do for you today?”

  “You can tell me you’ve settled this nonsense about the project, and if you haven’t, you can tell me what you plan to do about the money we’re losing every day that we’re not working on that site.”

  His father’s voice had risen with each word, and although there were valid concerns about cost overrun due to the delays in construction, it was clearly about more than that.

  “We can weather this, and in any case, I’m sure this will be settled shortly,” he replied in tones far calmer than he was feeling.

  “Just like you thou
ght this business with Maggie would be over quickly?” his father chastised. His voice grew louder as he jabbed a finger in Owen’s direction and said, “Fuck her, marry her, and get her properties. That’s what you said you’d do.”

  The loud crash of something hitting the wood floor and glass breaking outside his office drew both their attentions.

  Maggie stood at the door, her face pale as a sheet. A clear shopping bag from a nearby restaurant lay on the floor next to a broken wine bottle in a pool of red, like blood spilled on the floor.

  The look she shot Owen was one of agony and disbelief.

  As she bolted away from the door, he hurtled from his chair to chase after her, pushing past his father. Ignoring the look on his face that actually had more traces of guilt than pleasure.

  Chapter 32

  Maggie’s body and brain had gone numb, shutting down from the pain that had torn through her as she’d heard Robert Pierce’s hurtful words.

  Fuck her. Marry her. Get her properties.

  Owen grabbed her, only she didn’t really feel his hand on her arm. Or the one he cupped to her cheek as he gently urged her to face him. She didn’t see the fear and sorrow on his face as he said, “It’s not what you think, Maggie.”

  “What I think? What am I supposed to think?” she said, her voice soft because it was difficult to speak past the lump in her throat. Because it was difficult to draw a breath due to the ache in her heart.

  Owen glanced around, and she tracked his gaze. She realized that they’d drawn the attention of everyone in the office. Some turned away, guilty at having been caught watching, while other, less thoughtful ones remained with their heads above the edges of their cubicles like prairie dogs poking out of their warrens.

  Embarrassment wove its threads through her pain, and when Owen grabbed hold of her other arm, she lashed out to pull free, hitting him across the face as she did so. Drawing blood.