The Executive

by Kimberley Montpetit

  Gulping down a glass of water, she leaned bleary-eyed against the sink, dark thoughts clinging to her brain like cobwebs while Miss Pixie rubbed at her ankles in typical cat fashion.

  Kira snatched the cat food from the counter and poured some into her pet’s bowl next to the refrigerator.

  The doorbell rang ten seconds later and she peered through the peephole. A delivery guy from Bella Calla Flower Shop was holding a bouquet of stunning lilies and yellow roses in a large vase in his arms, almost bigger than he was.

  “Delivery for Miss Kira Bancroft,” the man said when she opened the door a few inches.

  “That’s me.” She unlatched the chain from her door and accepted the flowers, placing the vibrant arrangement in the center of her kitchen table, and breathing in the heady scent.

  Heart pounding, Kira opened the card with her name printed on the front.

  * * *

  Dear Kira,

  Thank you for a wonderful day yesterday. It meant the world to me. Even though I’ve wanted to be a part of your life for a long time I won’t deceive you any longer about the person I really am.

  Are you free for breakfast? If I wait any longer I may lose my nerve. If you are, I’ll meet you at 9:00 at Rossi’s, the place we met for the first time.

  * * *

  “Oh, Caleb,” Kira sighed, a knot of anxiety piercing the center of her chest. She read the last bit, which was scribbled on the back of the card.

  P.S. Troy threatened to punch my lights out if I didn’t talk to you. I hate him when he’s right. And he’s usually right.

  That was all it took to make Kira laugh. “You silly, crazy man.” But his note worried her. What secrets was he going to confess, and could she handle the revelations about the enigma behind the CEO?

  After showering and dressing, Kira tucked her waitress uniform and black, sensible shoes into a bag to change into before her shift started.

  A few minutes later, Kira was still fussing with her hair and makeup. It suddenly occurred to her that she was primping for Caleb. Did he mean that much to her?

  He was certainly getting to her. She enjoyed spending time with him. She’d loved the concert and their picnic out at his country house. Even at midnight after a long day on her feet, their text message conversations were funny and endearing. Every day ended on a happy note of laughter.

  When he held her hand she had the sensation of a burst of Black Cat firecrackers on a hot Fourth of July morning when her three older brothers used to light them for hours and snap them in their fingers so they didn’t get burned.

  When Caleb kissed her, it was like the fireworks over the Hudson River in New York City. A literal extravaganza.

  Would Caleb burn her? Or merely burn her up? Would today’s revelations be the last time she saw this man she was falling for? A spot of pain in the center of her chest flared.

  Pushing aside the nerves that bounced up her throat, Kira spritzed her hair and added a drop of perfume behind her ears and wrists. Her boss, Mr. Rossi, was sure to be shocked when he saw her walk in without her usual hair tie and uniform with the Rossi’s logo.

  But when she walked downstairs to her vehicle, her stomach turned over, nerves flaring.

  It had been so long since she’d been this interested in a man, much more than a casual friend for a Friday night movie and popcorn. Dates that usually fizzled.

  “Why do you have to do this to me, Caleb Davenport?” she cursed under her breath, pulling out into the street to head to the restaurant. “You’re killing me.”

  It was best to get it over with and go back to her mundane existence of waitressing and doctor appointments with her folks.

  “No more silly dreams,” she told herself when she locked the car door. “This is your life.” Maybe she’d get married when she was forty. Or maybe she should attend night school and get a useful degree like teaching third grade or an accountant at tax season.

  The thought made her want to cry.

  When she glanced up to go through the restaurant doors, Caleb was already waiting for her, his face apprehensive, but tentatively smiling.

  He didn’t take her hand. He didn’t hug her. He didn’t even kiss her cheek. In fact, he looked sick with nerves.

  Kira lifted her eyebrows in question.

  His response was tight. “After today, you’ll probably never speak to me again. I figured if I put my arm around you it would feel like taking liberties.”

  She swallowed hard, holding her emotion at bay. “Will you still open the door for me?”

  “Always for you.” He pulled the door handle and Kira stepped through. “I’ve already got us a table,” he said. “In the back.”

  “Good idea. I have a feeling I’m going to cry a little bit.”

  His jaw muscles flexed. “I hope not. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  “I should have used my waterproof mascara,” she quipped in an attempt to keep her unease at bay, but it didn’t work.

  Caleb pulled out a chair for her and Kira sat down. Instead of sitting across the table, he sat close to her in the closest chair, his eyes never leaving her face. “You look absolutely beautiful today. Forgive me if I stare at you every second I can.”

  “You’re making me a little nervous,” she admitted.

  “A little? I’m a wreck.”

  “You hide it well.”

  “Must be all those meetings for work. I’m up against some pretty tough clients and competition. Have to put on my poker face to get the best deals.”

  “Then think of me—this—as a work meeting.”

  Caleb ran a hand through his wavy dark hair. “Kira, you’re so much prettier than any other client times a thousand.”

  “I will try to be demure and not blush,” she said, trying to calm herself.

  “I could never look at you as a job to endure. It’s all I can do not to call you every night at midnight and talk for hours. Meet you every day for all three meals.”

  “Let’s focus on this one. Help me get through this one breakfast, Caleb.”

  A waiter appeared. “Ready to order?”

  “I’ll have the omelet,” Kira said, grateful to change the topic to something lighter. “Vegetables only, mozzarella and provolone and a fruit salad.”

  “I’ll have the same.” Caleb allowed his stiff smile to finally reach his eyes. “Gotta watch my waistline.”

  “Oh, ha! You don’t have a single extra ounce.”

  “Must be the lean chicken and veggies I eat so regularly when I’m traveling in Asia. Low cal, that’s for sure. If I can stay away from the dim sum and fried rice.”

  “Brownies are my weakness.”

  “Then I brought the perfect dessert yesterday for our picnic.”

  “The brownies were divine, but a distant second to the Steinway grand piano.”

  Softly, Caleb said, “I loved listening to you through the vents.”

  Kira feigned outrage. “Are you telling me you have secret microphones hidden throughout your house?”

  “No, but while I was fixing the recessed lights in the kitchen the sound of your playing came through. Faint, but perfect. You didn’t miss a single note.”

  “Hardly, Mr. Perfection,” Kira chided.

  “Hey, I know classical music. At least, I’ve attended a lot of concerts when I’m in London or Paris or Tokyo.”

  “An amateur connoisseur?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “How far would you go?” Kira wasn’t trying to flirt, she was serious.

  “As far as you let me without scaring you off for good. That’s what I’m afraid of. Like right now. We’re flirting, being coy, and laughing a little, but . . .” his voice trailed away as their meals arrived.

  Refilling the water and juice glasses, the waiter pulled away. Kira didn’t know him very well since she almost never worked the breakfast shift.

  Kira took a sip of her orange juice. “I’m not sure if we’re really here to eat breakfast. I don’
t think I can take a single bite, having this—this—whatever it is hanging over us.”

  Caleb nodded, his composure turning solemn. “I don’t even know how to begin. My past is what prevented me from ever talking to you in high school and now it’s going to tear us apart.”

  “Why don’t you let me decide that? But first, I have my own confession to make.”

  A frown creased Caleb’s forehead. “What would you have to confess about? I’m the one who stole your necklace and ruined your life.”

  Kira shook her head. “No—seriously, no. Yes, I was sad. I was mad when you gave it back to me, but it’s just a necklace. There are other things that have made me much sadder than that.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for all the pain of your father’s accident and losing their home. And you—giving up your dreams for them. You’re an amazing woman.”

  “There was no one else who could. Besides, the odds of me becoming a concert pianist were a long shot.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” He attempted a bite of his omelet and then pushed it away, gulping at his water like a nervous animal.

  Kira gave him a weak smile. “Thinking about the impossible odds is a way to cope with the pain of losing my dream. So, are you curious to know what I’m going to confess to you?”

  “Yes, but I want to prolong the inevitability of you walking out of here for good as long as possible. I can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

  “I followed you last night,” she said, forcing the words out. “I saw you headed to Littleton. I also ran into Troy here at the restaurant and—I, uh,” she paused, embarrassed to admit her actions. “I drove back out to your house. All the lights were off except the outdoor ones. It was dark enough and quiet enough that I knew you weren’t home. I asked Troy if there was someone else—another woman. He just about wrung my neck with his response.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Of course, I believe him. But what’s in Littleton, Caleb? My mind is going crazy. I keep wondering what would make you go all the way to Littleton—after that sudden phone call—on a Saturday night.”

  He leaned forward, arms folded on the edge of the table. “You’ve got me curious as to what you came up with. Because I think you did come up with the reason.” He spoke this last without any recrimination. As if he was resigned to bad news.

  Kira lifted her face and their eyes met across the table. “I was almost home when I remembered that there’s a prison in Littleton.”

  Caleb didn’t speak for a moment and Kira could see the flicker of a hundred emotions cross his face. Finally, he nodded. “You’re very astute, and correct. I drove to the federal correctional facility.”

  “Why?” Her words came out in a raspy whisper. “Did you serve time? Are you on probation?”

  “No,” the syllable came out of Caleb’s lips slowly. “My father is an inmate. He’s been there for thirteen years. Armed robbery. It’s a sordid story.”

  A dull thud resounded in Kira’s chest. “You were only fifteen?”

  Caleb glanced across the room and back again. “Not many people know. I never talked about it. I just rebelled, grew my hair long and greasy, and retreated into the world of computers.”

  Reaching out, Kira grasped his hands folded on the table top. He was gripping his fingers so tightly together his knuckles turned white. “It’s a miracle you didn’t turn to drugs or other delinquency.”

  He gave a single, sharp laugh, pulling his hands away. “I did at first—easy when your mother has them hidden all over the house—got caught, and spent a couple months in a juvenile delinquent home, and then with foster parents.”

  “Oh, Caleb, I’m so sorry.”

  “But hardcore drugs and alcohol was my mother’s way of coping. When Dad was incarcerated she was strung out on crack and booze twenty-four seven—lost her job, of course. Went on food stamps, worked part time as a cashier at ten different gas stations.”

  Kira wished she could comfort him, but Caleb didn’t seem to want her to. He was retreating already, his face hardening into a mask of indifference. He didn’t want her to see how much he cared—and how much he hated what his parents had done. “Is she okay now?”

  His head jerked up. “Are you kidding? No, her life got worse. She tried various drug treatments mandated by the state, but always fell off the wagon. We lost our house, lived in a filthy apartment with cockroaches so thick they crunched under your feet. Finally, she turned to prostitution to get her drugs. Last I knew she was living on the streets.”

  Tears burned at Kira’s eyes. “Caleb, how terrible. It must be awful for you.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t surprise you that I took your necklace. I was a jerk and an idiot and a loser.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Kira contradicted, her voice rising. “You are obviously incredibly smart and talented. Look at your success. The company you’ve created is innovative and extraordinary. You should be proud of yourself.”

  His laugh was cynical. “It doesn’t mean anything without your family. I’ve been pretty much alone since I was sixteen. Mom wouldn’t come home at night, or she’d have a house full of strung out friends over.”

  “You didn’t have a home at all. How lonely, how horrible, Caleb.” Kira noticed that he hadn’t told her the backstory of his father’s crime and imprisonment, but she didn’t push him. “I suppose losing your father was more difficult than your mother could handle.”

  “Yeah, you could say that,” he said with a sarcastic grunt.

  She reached out to touch his arm, empathy spilling from her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me anymore, Caleb. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I might as well spill it all, even if it means losing you forever. I wouldn’t want to date a guy like me. Hey, most girls laughed at me, or ignored me.”

  “That’s not true—” Kira started, but he interrupted her, his voice focused and hard, as if he wanted to lay out all his black deeds and get it over with.

  “My father had a gambling problem. Blew through every paycheck. Was in debt up to his eyeballs. Hocked everything of value. Mortgaged the house to the hilt. So one day the s.o.b. put a mask on, walked into a bank with a gun and a duffel bag, and forced the bank teller into the vault to fill the bag with stacks of hundreds.”

  Kira turned cold. “What happened?”

  “The bank teller didn’t recognize him at first, but when she heard his voice, she fought back. Tried to stop him, but the gun went off and she died.”

  There were almost no words. “So, he’s serving a sentence for manslaughter, too?”

  “Second degree murder.”

  Caleb went quiet, his head down facing the table, hands locked around his neck. Pain was etched into every feature.

  It was then that Kira realized what he’d just said. “Caleb, you said that she recognized his voice. Who was the bank teller?”

  “My mother’s sister. My aunt Jenny. The only person I ever thought really loved me. She was—the best. And suddenly, she was gone and I had a dad in prison and a mother who screwed up her head so bad I didn’t recognize her.”

  “What a tragedy for everyone. Caleb, how did you survive?”

  He made a choking sound in his throat. “Only reason I didn’t put a bullet to my own head after Aunt Jenny died and my family was gone, was because of you. I’d sit outside the music room eating my pathetic sack lunch, or try to ignore how hungry I was, I’d listen to you. Your music took me out of my world. I could forget for just a little while how bad things were. That’s why, when I found your necklace, it meant so much to me. It was like having a small piece of you to carry around and make me feel better when my mom disappeared for days at a time.”

  “I wish there was something I could say to take away the pain you’ve been living with for more than half your life.”

  “When I’d see your necklace in my drawer at home or in my wallet, I knew you couldn’t forgive me. I’d lost you before I ever
had a chance to get to know you.”

  “Stop that, Caleb. I forgave you before I knew any of your family’s story. How could I possibly hate you now? Never. Do you understand? Actually,” she said, forcing him to look at her. “I’m grateful you had something to help you get through those bad years.”

  Those beautiful, haunted blue eyes of his finally lifted. Kira held his hands tightly with hers and forced him not to look away from her.

  “You didn’t know it,” he went on. “And I figured you never would, but you helped save my life. Your necklace was a talisman. A dream to hold on to. A symbol of hope that gave me a desire to work toward something better.”

  “And you did. You defied so many odds to create DREAMS. I think it was fate that my clasp broke the night of the concert and you found the necklace. My grandmother always said it was a good luck charm. I think she was right.”

  “You’re way too good for me, Kira.”

  She scooted her chair even closer to him and tugged at his arms to pull him toward her. “You are good, Caleb,” she said fiercely. “You’re amazing, actually, to have lived through such tragedy and loss and turned into the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, with a highly successful business and loyal friends who have stood by you through it all.”

  “Believing is harder than living it.”

  “Believing is always hard. We’re our own worst enemies. You could have sold the necklace and paid your mother’s rent with it. Bought food. Gotten high on dope to escape. But you didn’t. I’ll bet you got desperate enough at times, but you didn’t. Look around now. Your friends love you and work hard for you. You’ve remodeled this house into something spectacular. And now you have me for your friend, too.”

  Caleb took her hand in his and gripped her fingers tightly. “Never thought I’d ever hear that. I never thought I’d see you again. I had no way into your world and your necklace gave me that tiny way in. But now I’m not sure I can let you go.”

  “Who says I’m going anywhere?”

  “Oh, Kira,” Caleb’s voice broke and Kira wrapped her arms around him.