by Donya Lynne
“Goddamn, Rob, you just won’t drop it, will you? She’s just another woman. I’m not in love with her.” Liar. “I’m only with her while I’m working in Indy. And when I’m done there, we’re done, too. End of story. You know how this goes. You know I’m not interested in anything serious.”
“Yeah, and I also know that you’re the most uptight, plan-your-life-to-the-millisecondest motherfucker I know. You planned your whole life with Carol before she even said ‘I do,’ and when she bailed, you unraveled. You didn’t know which fucking way was up, and you nearly drowned yourself. Goddamn, loosen up and live a little. Stop living life like you’re on a schedule. You’re just pre-destining yourself for failure.”
“Why? Because I refuse to let myself go through that shit again? It’s called protecting myself.”
“Protecting yourself, my ass.” Rob flipped a burger with a little extra aggression. “Shit happens, Mark. It’s part of life. You get up, dust yourself off, and move on. But in your case, Carol threw you so badly off your pre-defined timetable that you’ve never been able to get back on track.” He nearly tossed a pair of hot dogs off the side of the grill. “So what? She didn’t want you. Better you learned that before you exchanged vows than after, right? Consider it a blessing she gave you an out before tying you down, squeezing out kids, and taking half your shit in an ugly divorce.” He pointed the tongs at Mark. “That, my friend, would have been truly disastrous and reason to drown yourself, given how much you’re worth.” He turned back to the grill.
“I don’t need your glass-half-full bullshit right now, Rob.” He loved Rob like a brother, but the guy was seriously grating his nerves.
“Yeah? Well, too bad, because I’m gonna say what needs to be said.” Rob shut the lid of the grill and glared at him. “If you like this girl, grab her. Maybe fate made Carol leave you because the forces at work in the universe knew that she wasn’t right and this girl is. I mean, look at her name, for God’s sake. Karma. After the shit you went through as a kid, and after what Carol did to you, maybe her name is a sign that karma is coming back around to give you something good for a change.” Rob paused then added, “What if you’re pissing away God’s gift to you, Mark, all because of some stupid vow you made to yourself about never letting your heart get hurt again?
“Life is about getting hurt, Mark. Without pain, we don’t grow. But in your case, you shut down. You’re still shut down. You’ve let Carol completely derail you. It’s like she’s still fucking you over six years later. Pick up your sorry ass, dust yourself off, and let yourself be happy again. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy?” Rob held up his hand. “Oh wait, that’s right, you’ve planned not to be happy so there’s no way you could possibly let yourself deviate from your plan because then you would have to create a whole new schedule for the rest of your life. One that actually includes things like happiness and hope. My bad.”
It was the most Rob had ever said about Carol at one time in six years, and it was the only time he had ever dared encroach on Mark’s personal life in such an in-your-face way. “Shit, Rob, why don’t you tell me how you really feel.” Mark looked away and downed a heavy swig of beer.
“Man, you need to get out of your own way and give yourself an out clause from this self-imposed contract of yours.” Rob looked over his shoulder toward Holly. “Life is not a contract we negotiate with ourselves. You and I both swore we would never get married, and now look at me.” He grinned as Holly whacked the volleyball out of bounds and started laughing at herself. “Only three weeks in, and I’m ready to pop the question. I can’t see my life without her. Is that crazy or what?”
Mark scowled from Rob to Holly and back. “Yes, it is. And I’m not you. So drop it.” This conversation needed to end. Now. Before Mark lost his mind, got in his car, and drove back to Indy so he could see her again. His Karma.
Rob held his arms up in surrender. “Fine. But Mark, maybe it’s time you grabbed on and didn’t let go.” Knowing eyes penetrated him to his soul. “That’s all I’m saying, man. Maybe it’s time to make some new promises and throw out the old ones that no longer serve you…draw up a new contract with your soul.”
Rob returned his attention to the grill without another word. Conversation over. Thank God.
Mark wandered to the fence, away from the crowd, where he leaned against it and hung his beer over the other side. From his vantage point, he could just see beyond the houses to Lake Michigan. A yacht trolled slowly along the blue surface.
If only he were on that boat. With Karma. Just the two of them. Then he wouldn’t feel so damn lonely.
Chapter 49
Worry is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but gets you nowhere.
-Erma Bombeck
Monday morning, Mark stood on his balcony, drinking coffee, gazing at the red sunrise. Red skies in the morning, sailor take warning.
Karma was supposed to go fishing with her dad today. Hopefully, they would have good weather.
Mark took out his phone and tapped out a message. What are you doing?
A minute later, his phone chimed. He smiled as he opened the message. Good timing. I was just sitting here thinking about you. She had attached a picture of a lake.
Another message chimed in from her. What are YOU doing? :-)
He smiled, lifted his phone, and took a picture of Lake Michigan and the sunrise. Funny. I was just thinking about you, too, he typed, attaching the picture.
Her next message warmed his heart. Jinx. Buy me a Coke. We’re both looking at water and thinking about the other. Why do I suddenly have to pee?
LOL. Clever girl. Good to see you’re comfortable enough to discuss bodily functions with me, though.
Ew. LOL.
You started it.
I know, and now I’m ending it.
Are you enjoying your day off with your dad?
Yes, but I miss my “teacher.” I had a good time with him this weekend.
Mark’s brow quirked, and he grinned. Your teacher? Maybe I can meet him sometime.
I’ll ask him, but don’t get your hopes up. He’s kind of private. Likes to keep me to himself.
Smart man.
Eh, he’s a’ight.
He laughed. Just a’ight? he typed.
LOL. Okay, so maybe I lied. But I don’t want to bruise your ego.
No. Please. Bruise me. Tell me about him. He was having too much fun with this conversation. As he always did when he and Karma texted.
You’re incorrigible.
And you’re stalling.
Guilty.
Are you not going to answer my question, Miss Mason?
Oooo…you’re using your teaching voice.
If that’s what it takes to get you to spill, then yes I am.
He waited for what felt like an hour but was only a couple of minutes, and then his phone chimed again.
Fine. Be that way. It’s your ego. If you must know, my teacher is to other men like a warm, chocolate chunk brownie swimming in hot fudge, with marshmallows, and drizzled with warm caramel is to a bite of milk chocolate. Both are nice, but one makes me moan and gives me goose bumps when he enters a room, while the other just makes me smile. And sometimes the other doesn’t even do that. My teacher makes me feel beautiful, and he has shown me things I’ve only imagined, and for however long I have with him, I will be eternally grateful for all he has given me.
Speechless. She had rendered him speechless. For at least a minute, he could only stare at his phone and re-read her message, until finally he lifted his face against the wind and rubbed his palm and fingers over his pursed mouth as he stared out over the lake. Another crack formed in the wall around his heart, and he took a deep, shaking breath.
After a long moment when his emotions churned and threatened to overwhelm him, he typed out his reply.
I’m sure I can speak for him when I say that you are truly a remarkable, stunning, and glorious woman. Be assured, you bring out the best in him, as well. An
d wherever he is right now, I bet he’s wishing he was with you instead, so he could thank you for your kind words in person.
He leaned against his banister and gazed out at the blue expanse of the lake, at the red sunlight reflecting off the waves that rolled and rippled toward the shore.
When his phone chimed, he eagerly read her message.
I hear he’s standing on a balcony, somewhere in Chicago, looking at Lake Michigan.
And there came another crack in his armor, and his heart melted a little bit more. What was happening to him?
I miss you. His thumb hovered over the send button, but when he re-read what he had written, he frowned. He couldn’t send that. Not that message. It was all wrong. But felt so damn right. But if he went down that road, it would lead him away from the control he coveted and longed to retain, putting it right back in her hands.
This relationship wasn’t about love and emotion, or commitment, or missing her, or of anything permanent. To tell her he missed her would only set them both up for inevitable pain. Well, more pain than what they would both already feel when he said good-bye.
He backspaced the message and started over.
And I hear he is very much looking forward to seeing you again.
That was much better. The personal component was gone, and he was still telling the truth. He hit the send button.
Me, too, came her reply.
His breath caught, and suddenly, all he wanted was for her to be there, with him as she had been this weekend, both of them looking out at the lake, his arms around her waist and his nose buried in her hair.
I’ll see you soon. I have to run. Some of us have to work today. Enjoy the rest of your day off. He set the phone on the small patio table and sat in his lounge chair in his sweats and T-shirt, one arm crossed over his torso, his other hand pressed to his chin.
When his phone chimed, he glanced over and read the message.
Work hard. Talk to you soon.
He closed his eyes and leaned back. His apartment already felt desolate without her. After just a couple of days, she had completely invaded his space. He couldn’t look around his apartment and see one place that didn’t remind him of her. He didn’t even want to wash the shirt she had worn, which still held a touch of her scent.
This assignment needed to end. And soon. Because he was becoming emotionally compromised with this one. From a rational perspective, he needed to pull back, but every time he tried, he found himself drawn further in.
And he had no idea how to stop the train from careening off the tracks.
Karma tucked her phone into her hip bag.
“What are you smiling about?” her dad asked, coming back from his truck and dropping their tackle boxes beside her on the bank.
“Nothing.” But she couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off her face. If anything, it got bigger. And for the cherry on top, her face heated.
“I saw you over here on your phone.” He frowned. “Were you talking to that boy? Mike or Mark or whatever his name is?”
“Mark,” she said. “And yes. I was.” She busied herself with her tackle box.
“Is that where you were this weekend?” He began loading the boat. “Why you didn’t come over?”
She sighed and stood, fishing pole in hand. “Yes, Dad. I went up to Chicago to see him.”
He shook his head but didn’t say anything as he checked the truck, locked it, and waited for her to climb into the boat. He got in, used one of the oars to push them away from the bank, and started rowing through the water. She wiped perspiration from her forehead. A humid mist clung to the water’s surface.
“I don’t like you with that boy,” Dad said.
Tell me something I don’t know.
“He’s not a boy, Dad. He’s a man.”
“He’s a boy to me.” He continued rowing them to their favorite spot. “A man wouldn’t behave the way he is. And don’t tell me you think he’s going to stick around when his job here is done.”
“I don’t think that.” She stared ahead, refusing to meet her dad’s eye. Knowing that Mark would leave soon was bad enough. She didn’t need her dad rubbing salt in the wound.
“What you need is some smart fella who’ll treat you right and not skip out when he’s done using you.”
“Dad!” She spun around and scowled at him. “Mark is not using me, and he’s not going to skip out on me, either. He’s good to me, and I like him, okay?” She turned back around, her good mood of a few minutes ago spoiled like month-old milk.
“Honey, if he was really good to you, he wouldn’t be doing what he’s doing.” The oars dipped into the water and gurgled as he rowed. “Nice boys don’t mess around with the girls they work with.”
Were they still having this conversation?
“Maybe when you were younger that was how things were done, Dad, but that’s not how it is, anymore. More and more people meet their spouses at work now. It’s a proven fact.” She crossed her arms and kept her gaze straight ahead on the misty water.
“Yeah, and look at how many people end up getting divorced.” Dad harrumphed. “I’ll stick with the old ways.”
“Are we really going to spend the day talking about this?” She shot him a glare. “I thought we were going to spend a nice day together.”
“We are.” Dad shrugged innocently. “I’m just looking out for my little girl is all.”
“Well, stop it. I’ve got this, Dad. Trust me.”
And she wasn’t a little girl, anymore, either. She needed her dad to get on board with that idea immediately. Mark was her problem, not her dad’s, and she could handle him without her dad’s help.
The thing was after this past weekend, Mark was an even bigger complication than before, because she had finally realized she was, in fact, in love. Hopelessly, unbelievably, and irrevocably in love. But, like it or not, Mark was going to leave.
And therein lay the biggest problem of all.
Chapter 50
I think that sexuality is only attractive when it’s natural and spontaneous.
-Marilyn Monroe
More than half the office was out on vacation for the week after the Fourth of July.
When Karma returned to work on Tuesday morning, she sat in a veritable ghost town. Don was out. Jolene was out. Lisa was out. All but two members of Sales and Marketing were out. A quick trip through the war room, where the project teams worked when they were in the office, revealed that only Jasper and Courtney were working in the office this week. The rest who hadn’t taken time off were working from home.
Karma meandered back to her desk. As she passed the conference room, she flicked a despondent glance at the empty chair where Mark usually sat when he was there.
But he wasn’t this week.
He, too, had taken the week to work from Chicago and finish getting his affairs in order after the break-in.
Tuesday remained quiet all day. She made major headway on the upcoming quarterly presentation, but by the end of the day, she actually got a little bored. With no one in the office, the workload was lighter than she thought it would be.
Wednesday was more of the same, and by the end of the day, she was finished with the presentation and had cleaned out her files, her e-mail, and had played with some ideas for a new presentation template for October’s quarterlies.
On Thursday morning, she stopped at the store and bought a smattering of magazines, The New York Times, and the local newspaper before heading in to the office. She needed something to keep her mind busy, and since she was all caught up—a rarity to be sure—having some reading material on hand was a must.
Feeling like a whole lot of ho-hum-I-wish-I-were-in-Chicago, she made her way up the stairs to her desk. At the foot of the hall, her steps faltered. Something was different this morning. The air held a different spark. A familiar scent, ever-so-subtle, touched her nose. Trying not to appear overly eager, she hurried down the hall and came out on the other side just as Mark emerged from the conference
room as if he had felt her presence, too.
They both stopped, and she sucked in her breath. He was beautiful, as always, even though he was only wearing simple charcoal grey trousers and a dark blue pullover.
“Can I see you for a minute, Miss Mason.” He turned back around and disappeared inside the conference room.
She dropped her bags and magazines on her desk and tamed her excitement enough that she didn’t fly into the room behind him.
“Yes?”
“Close the door,” he said without looking at her.
She did as he said, and the door latched quietly.
He turned around, and she couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it caused her heart to race.
“Lock it.”
Obediently, she did as he commanded. The week had just gotten very interesting.
In four long strides, he was on her, his hands lifting her skirt. “How has your week been, Miss Mason?”
“Boring.” She loved when he called her Miss Mason. It made her feel like they were strangers or mere acquaintances, and in light of how familiar they were with one another, his using such a formality often added to their intense chemistry.
He pulled off her panties. “Boring?”
She nodded as cool air washed over her bare flesh. “Until now.”
His lips quirked and the jangle of his belt preceded the sound of his zipper opening. “Lesson,” he said.
Already flooded with desire so intense she could barely stand, Karma could only nod, ready to learn. But, clearly, this was a very specific lesson, with hands-on application.
A square cellophane packet appeared in her hands as if by magic.
“Office sex can be a good thing,” he said. “Under the right circumstances.” He nodded toward the condom. “Put it on me.”
She had never put a condom on a man before. Mark had always taken care of that. “I don’t—”
He shushed her as he backed her toward the wall. “I’ll help.”