A Note from an Old Acquaintance

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A Note from an Old Acquaintance Page 21

by Bill Walker


  Brian knuckles turned white on the beer bottle. “I figured as much.”

  “You didn’t think I was just going to let her go her merry way, did you?”

  “She’s her own person, Ruby, not an extension of you. You don’t own her.”

  Ruby stood, a bemused expression on his chiseled face. Rounding the desk, he reached out and straightened Joanna’s picture with a self-satisfied nod. He then took the chair next to Brian, leaning toward him like a close friend offering secrets. Brian caught a whiff of his Aramis cologne.

  “Let me be honest with you, Mr. Weller,” he said, his eyes, losing their hard, cunning edge, his voice growing softer. “I know how you feel about her, I really do. She does something to a man’s soul. You’ve felt it, too; and she’s not even aware of it. Do you realize that? She has no earthly idea of the effect she has on men like you and me, which is precisely what makes her so devastating.

  “I saw how she affected Nick, and he’s always believed that I don’t know about that. But I do know. I saw it in his eyes. I saw her in his eyes. I see her in your eyes, too, Mr. Weller.” He paused, his voice taking on an edge. “Joanna and I have a destiny to fulfill, and I will never allow you nor anyone else to alter it.”

  “What makes you think she wants to stay with you?”

  “And what makes you think she wants to live in squalor?”

  Faced with the older man’s unbridled arrogance, Brian fought to keep his cool. “What do you want, then? You want me to stay away from her?”

  “Do you really believe you can?” Ruby asked, the corners of his mouth curling in a knowing smile.

  Ruby was right, damn him. Brian looked toward Mosley, whose expression was that of a man who’d blundered into the wrong hotel room. “How about pouring me some of what your boss is drinking?” he asked.

  Ruby nodded and Mosley went to the bar, poured the Macallan and handed the tumbler to Brian. He took a sip, the fiery liquid burning down to his stomach.

  “So, what’s the point of bringing me here?”

  Ruby reached for the folder and brought it onto his lap. It was thick with various forms and papers. “As I said, I had Mr. Mosley watching you and Joanna. I also had him look into your background. I know everything there is to know about you, Mr. Weller, and then some.” Ruby glanced at Mosley, who offered a proud smile. “Because of that, I also know about the situation with your father.”

  “Which is none of your business,” Brian said, his head beginning to throb from the whiskey.

  “That is going to change.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What did your father tell you?” Ruby said, ignoring the question.

  “That things are tough and his deal fell through.” Brian hated even admitting that much, but if Ruby was telling the truth, he wasn’t revealing anything the older man didn’t already know.

  “I’m sure he didn’t want to worry you, but the truth is much worse. He owes hundreds of thousands to three separate banking institutions, and they are all this close,” Ruby held his index finger and thumb about half an inch apart, “...to foreclosing. Your father’s a nice, decent man, Mr. Weller, and he’s worked hard all his life. All he’s wanted to do is provide a future for his family.”

  It was just like his Dad to soft-pedal the worst of things. It was one of his only faults. And hearing the unvarnished truth of the situation made Brian heartsick. He drained the rest of the whiskey and set the empty tumbler on Ruby’s desk. “So, why tell me all this?”

  “Because I envy you.”

  In spite of the headache, Brian frowned. “You envy me? Why?”

  “Because my father was a vain and selfish man whose philosophy of fatherhood extended to making sure the boarding schools I attended, from the age of seven, were well endowed. But that’s not why you’re here.”

  Here it comes, Weller.

  “I’m a businessman, first and foremost, so I’m going to put this in concrete terms, though Joanna deserves better. I’m willing to pay down your father’s debts. All of them. He’ll then be free to sell the store, or keep it and run it as long as he’s able. That’s up to him, but this sordid business with Joanna ends tonight.”

  Brian’s anger boiled over. “So, you think you can just buy me off? Is that it? That everyone has their price?”

  “Everyone does, Mr. Weller, but some are bought more cheaply than others.”

  “You’re right about one thing, Joanna does deserve better.”

  Ruby’s jaw clenched, and the coldness returned to his eyes. “I’ll ignore that, for the moment.” He reached into the folder, brought out a sheaf of papers and handed them to Brian. “This is a deal memo outlining our agreement. If all the points meet with your approval, sign it, and I’ll have my attorneys draw up the final papers for your signature.”

  Brian stared at the papers, wanting to tear them to shreds. “You just expect me to sign this?”

  “Sign it and help your father.”

  “And abandon Joanna.”

  “SHE’S NOT YOURS TO ABANDON!” Ruby shouted, his face reddening. Mosley stood, looking wary, and Ruby waved him back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Weller. As you can see, I’m on the edge, here. Let me add some incentives for you to think about. If you refuse this deal, the gloves will be off. I’m already negotiating with your father’s banks. I’ll put your parents on the streets, Mr. Weller; don’t even think that I won’t.

  “You also will never have another private moment with Joanna ever again. I’ll see to that. I’m selling her building and moving her studio to our home.

  “Finally, if you foolishly persist, I’ve made overtures to your landlord about buying 342 Newbury Street. I assure you, he will sell. Where will you and your partner go, when I pull your lease?”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I’ve done it before....”

  It was all Brian could do to keep from wrapping his hands around this bastard’s neck. He forced himself to remain outwardly calm.

  “How does it feel walking a tightrope, Ruby?”

  The other man frowned.

  “How does it feel knowing you have to watch yourself every moment lest the mask slip from your true face?”

  Sadness crept into Ruby’s eyes for a brief moment, replaced almost instantly by the familiar piercing glitter. “A lot better than knowing you’ve sacrificed your father’s love and security for another man’s fiancée,” he replied.

  Brian collapsed back into the leather chair, fighting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He picked up the papers. “What else?”

  “You’re going to call Joanna now, while she’s still at the studio, and tell her you’re breaking it off. And then you’ll leave town, for good. I promise you I’ll leave your partner alone, whether I purchase the building, or not.”

  Brian’s head throbbed, but that pain was nothing compared to the agony caused by his utter powerlessness, and the prospect of losing Joanna forever. But what choice did he have? His father needed the help Ruby was offering, help he wouldn’t get from anyone else, and Ruby knew that.

  Brian sighed. “I can’t leave right away, I’ve got loose ends to tie up, and not the least of which is getting Bob to buy me out. It’s not something we were planning on.”

  Ruby nodded. “You’ll have thirty days. That’s time enough to settle your affairs. I will also put my end of things in motion.” He pointed a manicured finger at Brian. “One last thing. You are to have no contact with Joanna, whatsoever. If she calls you, you hang up. If she writes you letters, you’re to leave them unanswered. If she tries to see you at your office or apartment, you turn her away. Is that understood?”

  Brian nodded, looking away to hide his rage and hopelessness.

  Ruby turned to Mosley. “Bring him the cordless phone,” he said, pointing across the room toward the wet bar. The black man rose to his feet, grabbed the phone off its cradle and handed it to Brian.

  It felt like a weapon in his hand.

&nb
sp; “I assume you know the number well enough,” Ruby said.

  Brian stared at Joanna’s picture one last time, trying to find a way out—any way that would not mean disaster.

  I hope you’ll forgive me someday, Sweetheart. Lord knows I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.

  Brian lifted the phone, his hands shaking. He dialed the number that was now tattooed across his heart. Ruby picked up the extension and for a fleeting moment Brian was ready to throw it all to the wind and tell him to go to the devil—the deal was off—but there was too much at stake. He cleared his throat and swallowed the bile backing up from his stomach.

  The phone rang half a dozen times before it was picked up.

  “Hello?”

  In the background Brian heard the sounds of people cleaning up after the show, clinking glassware, babbling voices and laughter.

  “Hello, hello, anyone there?”

  Ruby’s eyes narrowed and he mouthed, “Do it—now!”

  “Hi,” Brian managed to choke out.

  The sound of his voice had an immediate effect.

  “Hi, Sweetie!” Joanna giggled. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I think I’ve had just a little bit too much champagne,” she giggled again, “and I’m feeling rather proud of myself. I’m so sorry you couldn’t stay, Brian. I miss you so much; you know that?

  “And wasn’t everything wonderful tonight? My God, I’m still walking on clouds. Everyone was just gushing about my art, especially Communion. This show’s been everything I’ve ever dreamed about, and I owe it all to you and your brilliant idea. I still can’t believe The New York Times came, too! I’m giddy and scared to death all at the same time.” She paused, catching her breath. “And I’m talking too much, too, aren’t I? I’m not letting my sweet writer get a word in edgewise.”

  “You deserve it, Joanna...all of it.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she said, her voice taking on a tone of concern mixed with apprehension.

  “Yeah....”

  Ruby glowered at him.

  “What is it, my love? Whatever it is, we can weather it. Together. I’m going to leave him, Brian. I decided that tonight. It’s over.”

  Brian squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lips, a lone tear escaping from the corner of his left eye. The sound of Ruby’s hand slapping the chair’s armrest, made him open them. The man was trembling with rage.

  Hope you have a heart attack, you bas—

  “Brian, are you there? Please tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Uhh, I don’t know how to say this....”

  “What?”

  “We need to stop seeing each other, Joanna.”

  There was stunned silence on the other end of the line. And when she finally spoke, Brian heard the quaver in her voice. It was a knife through his heart. “What? W—what are you saying?”

  “You need to give your marriage a chance.”

  “I don’t want to marry him! I want to marry you!” She paused and then she asked the question he was dreading. “Do you love me, Brian? Tell me that, at least.”

  “It was unfair of me to come between you and your—”

  “Please tell me the truth, Brian,” she repeated, her voice cracking.

  Brian shook his head. Nothing was worth this. Nothing! He beat the arm of the chair with his fist.

  “Tell me, please. You owe me that much. I just need to know if you— if you really love me.” The catch in her voice made him want to die.

  God, I can’t say it!

  “No.... I—I don’t,” he said.

  “I don’t believe you!” she cried. “How can you say that to me? How can you say that after all that’s happened between us, after all we’ve shared? Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m leaving town, I just didn’t think it was fair to lead you on anymore.”

  She was openly sobbing now. “Why are you doing this?”

  He bit his finger, drawing blood. “I—I’m sorry, Joanna, for everything.”

  “BRIANNNN!”

  He pushed the talk button ending the call then threw the phone into the fireplace, shattering it.

  Her final scream had come through Ruby’s extension. The older man gently replaced the phone onto its cradle then clapped his hands together in a slow, measured applause. “Bravo, Mr. Weller, bravo. I especially loved the part about needing to give our marriage a chance. You’re a far more talented writer than I ever gave you credit for.”

  Brian shot to his feet, jabbing a finger in Ruby’s direction. “You keep your word! You keep it, or so help me I’ll—”

  Ruby raised his hand, cutting him off. “I have a lot invested in Joanna, Mr. Weller. Rest assured I’ll take care of my end, as long as you take care of yours.” He rose to his feet. “And, now it’s time for me to be the caring husband-to-be, anointing her wounds and giving her much needed comfort. Soon, she’ll come to understand that I have her best interests at heart. I always have.”

  Brian’s eyes bored into Ruby’s. “Just so you don’t fool yourself, Ruby. You don’t understand her, you never have. To you, she’s some precious jewel to hoard and hide from prying eyes, something only for your enjoyment. But she’s a living, breathing intelligent woman, filled with complications and passions you can’t control. Someday she’ll realize what you truly are...and what you’ve done. It may not be today, or tomorrow, but someday that mask is going to slip.”

  Ruby met his gaze, the sadness returning. “You’re probably right, Mr. Weller. The only solace I can take away from all this is that it won’t be because of you.”

  Joanna sat on the floor, her hand still on the phone, wanting it to ring, praying for it to ring. Tears coursed down her face, smearing her makeup, not that she cared. She’d tried to call him back, first at his home, then at his office. She’d left messages in both places, pleading for him to call her. If he hadn’t been in either of those places, from where had he been calling? Or was he just refusing to pick up the phone? The thought of that made her heart ache so much she doubled over.

  “No, no, no,” she whimpered.

  The caterer and her crew had given her wide berth, uncomfortable in seeing Joanna go from being on top of the world to the depths of despair. She looked up, squinting through the tears clouding her eyes.

  Where had they gone?

  Her thoughts boomeranged back to Brian. Something was bothering him, she could tell from the moment he’d spoken. What could it be that was so bad he would break off their relationship and not tell her the reason? Could it be that he’d been using her all along and had started feeling guilty?

  No, it couldn’t be that. She refused to believe that.

  But the thought persisted, nonetheless, making her remember the first boy she’d loved at twelve, how he’d kissed her and bragged about it to every boy in school. She’d wanted to die, had stayed home for three days, refusing to leave her room.

  Oh, Brian, you couldn’t be like him! You’re too sensitive and caring for that. Oh, God, she loved him.

  And now...she had nothing.

  Nothing, except her art.

  She walked aimlessly through her maze looking at each piece, trying to remember what it was that had inspired her to create it. Surely they were worthy inspirations. But every piece now drew a blank. Back in the main room, she approached Communion, her lips quivering as the tears threatened to flow anew. She caressed it, feeling every bump and vein in Brian’s hand. She knew it so well, as well as her own.

  “Oh, my sweet writer, why did you do this?”

  She didn’t want to believe the love he’d professed was a lie. All a lie. It couldn’t be true! But when she’d pressed the point, when she’d begged him to tell her the truth, he’d said: “No...I don’t.”

  Joanna’s hand shook, first from the pain in her heart and then from blind, overpowering rage.

  “NO!” she cried, pushing over the mahogany pedestal supporting Communion. The artwork toppled to the floor, shattering into se
veral pieces.

  Joanna stood there, trembling in shock, the anger forgotten as a wave of remorse overwhelmed her. This was all she had left of Brian, of the love she was sure he’d felt. All that was left, and now it lay shattered like the pieces of her heart.

  She dropped to her knees, fumbling to put the pieces back together, tears dropping to the polished wooden floor like rain.

  They wouldn’t go back together!

  There were too many fragments.

  And then the hopelessness of it all raced through her body and she threw back her head and screamed.

  “NOOOOOOOO!”

  Her cries of agony echoed throughout the deserted building, throughout all the cleaned and painted floors now darkened and awaiting the return of the dust.

  24

  AS HE’D PROMISED, MOSLEY dropped Brian at his front door just after 10:00, offering a few useless platitudes before roaring off in his Ferrari. Brian didn’t hear a word the man said, as the evening’s events kept running through his brain in a continuous loop. He wanted to turn them off, at least for a while. In his present state, however, sleep would be impossible; but he still had the remainder of his six-pack of beer. They were warm, but he didn’t care.

  Once inside his apartment, he sat on the carpeted floor with the lights off, his back against the door, and opened one beer after another, draining them. He just wanted to be stinking drunk. Maybe then everything would feel right.

  Because none of it did.

  With just three simple words, he’d destroyed the most important person in his life, traded her love for his father’s financial security. At least he hoped he had. Brian squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. Ruby had known that Brian would never let his father and mother suffer the horrors and indignities of destitution, not when saving them was attainable by a mere stroke of the pen. It was a Hobson’s choice of the highest order.

  And the price?

  “Please forgive me, Joanna....”

  He was leaving her with a man who’d professed to love her, bared his soul in a way few men would. Yet Brian doubted Ruby really knew the true meaning of the word, and he would never understand her in the way Brian did, for it was a connection that went far beyond the needs of the flesh.

 

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