Love, Lies and Shattered Hearts

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Love, Lies and Shattered Hearts Page 9

by Carol May


  “Charli, I don’t know what caused Houston to marry because all that happened while I was serving. I can tell you that is one topic that he will not discuss. He can barely stand the sight of her. As far as I know, they have never lived together. I understand that this doesn’t help you but I can tell you that he didn’t marry for love. I have the distinct impression she blackmailed him into it.”

  Just when I thought my tears for Houston were dried up, the floodgates have reopened. My heart aches for him, for us. I really can’t find my voice. I think he takes this as a sign to continue. He looks at me over his shoulder and asks, “Do you want me to continue or have you had enough?”

  I manage to mumble “continue.”

  With a brief nod he continues. “These last months when he was with you are the happiest I have ever seen him. He has given second chances to people at his offices, especially here in Miami, that I would never have imagined him doing before. Oh don’t take me wrong, he is still a cutthroat businessman but somehow he’s different about it, more civil, I suppose.”

  Pausing for a brief bit probably giving me more processing time, he finally continues. “He left Miami three days after you. On our flight out west, he told me of his plans to give this place to you. He wanted all trace of him removed so you might be as comfortable here as possible. He paid double even triple the actual contractor's rates to get things done for you. He has left a standing option open that if you don’t like what the decorator chose you can have it changed. You also have open accounts at multiple places.” Holding his hand up he says, “Before you say one word all these things are in your name. Nothing is in his. This I know for sure since I am the person that created the accounts. Unless, you choose to share the information about your penthouse the only three people that know the entire story about how you acquired it are you, me and him. In the top left drawer of the desk in the office you will find the deed. You will also find the paperwork for all the open accounts you have. He even thought of the utilities. Those are in your name but the actual billing will come to Highland Diversified as in the past. Before you say anything else, I want to tell you that honestly, I don’t think he ever intends on staying here in Miami for any longer than is absolutely necessary. He specifically told me he does not need a place here in Miami anymore.”

  Sitting just a minute longer, Nash stands up, “Charli, I am sorry to do this but I am really tired. I am going to head downstairs to my place besides I think you need some time.” Looking up at him, I wipe the tears from my eyes and stand to walk him out. Raising an eyebrow, he says “you don’t have to walk with me. Remember, I am downstairs. You have my number. Oh and the contract about the building services is still in effect so you will have people in here early in the morning. The same as when Houston lived here.”

  With a small smile, I manage to mumble “thanks.”

  Chapter 14

  Waking up in this room is more than strange. Had anyone told me three weeks ago that I would be back sleeping at Dade 303, I would have thought they had escaped from the loony bin as my dear grandmother Nonie would have said. Lying here looking at the ceiling, I think back to what Nash said. Taking a very deep breath, I release it when reality hits me, I really have no place to go other than crashing in on Lana or maybe Rose. Of course, I could check into a motel and start the house hunt all over again but for now, that is something I really don’t want to do or I really can’t afford. I have sunk everything into Supreme Corporate Travel. So, I suppose I will stay here for the time being.

  Sitting up, looking out the wall of windows, I stare out into the wide blue horizon where the sky meets the water. Suddenly, I am calm. This scene really does that for me. I need calm because I know in a couple of days, I have a huge event coming. In the words of dear old Scarlett, tomorrow’s another day. I think that is what she said. If not, then she should have. If Rhett could have a power line (at least that is what I call those type of lines, then so should have Scarlett.) Shrugging my shoulders, I toss back the cream Egyptian cotton comforter and slip my feet onto the wooden floor that again is covered with a rug that is beautiful.

  Padding my way down to the kitchen I find breakfast laid out. The service is still in place. Grabbing a blueberry muffin, I sink my teeth into it remembering how yummy they are. Actually, I had no doubt the service would continue. Nash told me that last night but I suppose it actually didn't sink in. Walking across the room, to my phone, I decide to touch base with Lana to let her know I am back. I am not sure I have ever heard her be so happy or was it relief? I'll go with relief. Sometimes my best friend seems to lack some confidence. Why I have no idea. She is the perfect package: beautiful, intelligent, has a wonderful personality. To top all that off, she seems to be unaware of this. Most females hate women like her. More than likely, I would have hated her if she hadn't been my roommate back in college. Granted not everyone likes an assigned roomie. We became friends quickly. I simply lucked out. That's not right. Truly, I do not think luck had anything to do with it. I know a divine power put us together. Looking up I smile and say, "Thanks."

  I wonder what Nash is up to this morning? If I had to make the trip back to Miami with one of Houston's people I am glad it was Nash. He seems to understand. We have definitely had some interesting experiences together. Picking up the phone, I pull his contact up. There he is. In this picture he is all business, brooding and serious. Come to think of it that is just about the only way I have ever actually seen him. I remember the day I took it. We were waiting for Houston to exit his Miami office. Nash was outside of the building standing on the sidewalk doing whatever he does. We were off to a small dinner party for Highland Diversifier’s top Miami people. Houston had replaced the southern Florida manager, which secretly made me happy. I personally couldn't stand the man, he was a true ass kisser. Anyway, Nash had no idea I snapped the pic from the back of the SUV. It is a true representation of him for sure. Standing here in my pajamas, in the kitchen looking at the picture I hesitate to push send. That nagging little something is preventing me from doing it. Taking a deep breath, I admit to myself that I really need to cut that string. Yep, chopping it off right now. I lay my phone back onto the counter, just as the fresh fruit catches my eye.

  Smiling, I grab a melon piece sticking it into my mouth as I reach for a plate from the dish drawer. I always thought a dish drawer was weird but when I opened it I found placemats. Shaking my head because I am confused. They don’t belong here but over by the silverware drawer. That’s when I started jerking open drawers. Stopping, I look around realizing I know where nothing is in this kitchen. Everything has been moved!

  Flashing back to my conversation with Nash, about the decorator changing things. I stand here looking with a single tear in the corner of my eye. Nothing is as it was before. There is really no comfort here. Everything is different. Admittedly that is what I need. Different but the same. I quickly wipe my tear and bat my eye. Nope! No tear here. So much for the fruit maybe later.

  Walking across to the balcony, always before it was a veranda when Houston lived here but while I am here I think I will refer to it as just a balcony. I think I am more of a balcony type person anyway. With that little decision made, I stand here just looking out at the Atlantic. It seems as if the water is brighter today than normal. Taking a deep breath I slowly exhale deciding I need to do something that I haven’t done in a long time. I talk to my husband.

  "Tyler, if you are watching over me, I really need your help. I have gone and got into a real situation. Remember, when you would say something similar to that?" Smiling, I lie down, looking up into the sky rather than into that horizon I love. I remember how he would always make his voice really deep and say, “Looks like …” I stop and roll onto my side, curling up into a ball. I can’t remember his exact words. I start to cry again. This time for another man that I thought was the love of my life.

  I’m not really sure how long I have been lying here but I am very glad I am in the shade. The sun is definitely in
another place in the sky. Looking at my phone, I realize I have been outside asleep two hours. I stumble back inside to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, just as Nash said, the food is there. It is just a little creepy that someone was in here this morning while I slept. Note to self, lock the bedroom door tonight. Which made me wonder, does it have a lock? If it doesn’t right now, it will by tonight. I put together a small salad and half a sandwich. Sitting down at the new table which isn’t really to my design taste I look at the sandwich when I begin to think about whether I want to keep it. Who knows? I have many larger issues to deal with than focusing on a table.

  While I was toying with my food, I did reach one decision. Pushing back from the table, I walk to the one place I have been avoiding, the office. It really isn’t the room. I have very few memories of this room since it was Houston’s office. I always thought it was strange that he kept it locked even after I moved in but I told myself that was his one space that was simply his. No secretaries, no bodyguards, no one to disturb him. At this very moment what disturbs me isn’t the room but the letter on the desk inside that room. Standing facing the door, I lean my head against it. I can’t help but think back to a day it was just the two of us here. He was at his desk doing Lord knows what but he was in deep concentration. I was heading toward the downstairs exercise room when I noticed the door was cracked open just a bit. Stopping, I stood almost in this very spot watching a man that I often kidded about searching for world domination laugh at something that was on his monitor. He looked so young and carefree in that moment. He was just a guy being a guy. I must have moved because he looked up and flashed me the biggest smile. I knew in that moment even without us speaking that the thing between us felt right. Boy was the joke ever on me.

  Placing my hand on the cold hard doorknob, fighting the urge to let it fall away I slowly turn it as if I might disturb Houston. I suppose old habits die hard. Pushing the door open slowly, I pause to simply stand in the doorway taking in the desolate room. Scanning the space my eyes move slowly to the object that is the key to my heightened apperception. Swallowing hard, I search my inner self looking for the courage to cross what seems like a space that rivals the Sierra. Almost as if I am in slow motion, my journey begins landing me here in front of this desk where I can only gaze at the cream envelope. Cautiously, I extend my neatly manicured hand as if some type of serpent might pop out from underneath at any moment. Running the tip of my fingers across it my thoughts turn toward Houston and that he held this in his hands. Knowing such a simple thing makes me smile. I pick the envelope up as gently as if I am handling the world’s most delicate piece of glass and that it might crumble at my touch. Slowly, I turn it over I can’t help but smile when I think about the strong possibility that the same tongue that gave me so much pleasure touched the seal. Getting lost in a few quick flashes of the things Houston’s tongue did to and for me, I can only sigh. For whatever reason, I raise the back of the envelope to my nose. Nothing. With a frown, my little inner voice asks, "What did you expect? Some type of scent?” Admittedly, I was really hoping for something. Just a whiff would have been nice. Standing here for just a second with closed eyes, I silently curse myself for such a thought.

  I am not sure if my heart or head can take this which causes a small internal battle to erupt. Deciding to go ahead with my original plan I will read today but not in here. Not at this desk. Turning away, envelope in hand I follow the same path my feet have just traveled, close the door and head for the kitchen. Stopping at the wine closet, I grab a bottle that is still marked. I can’t believe these weren’t removed as well but I sure am glad they weren’t. Someone made a mistake. Hump! I wonder if that was actually a mistake or if the instructions were given for them to remain. With a shrug of my shoulders, I realize it doesn’t matter one way or the other. Looking at the bottle, I can’t help but think about the morning I found him in there putting these little dots on the labels. Typical Houston, the dots were color coded according to the colors that he associated with the various types. Him marking some bottles of wines he thought I might like was just one of the ways he cared and pampered me. Of course, he knew quite a bit about it since he was partners with someone in a vineyard in both California, the south of France and who knows where else. One of his fifty companies. World domination at it’s finest. I am determined to not allow that evil woman to take away all of my memories I have of him. The end was horrible but the beginning and the middle would rivaled any Hollywood love story. Sighing deeply, I must admit it turned out to be just as much a fantasy as they are also.

  Climbing the stairs toward what was once the master bedroom envelope, wine glass and bottle in hand I can’t help myself when I veer into the closet that is filled with new clothes. This has been one hell of a week coming back here. It would be really great to just pretend to be a human ostrich but rather than hiding my head in the sand, I just want to hide my entire body in that closet and forget everything. Hey maybe I could change outfits so many times that I might confuse myself and think I am a different person. I know –a woman that is with the man she loves.

  Nice try. I walk on through the closet to the enormous bathroom. Stepping toward the large soaker tub that is also new, I turn the water on beginning the process of filling the tub. While that is occurring I contemplate whether I will actually read the letter. A part of me thinks that as long as I don’t open it I still have a part of Houston that the bitch hasn’t touched. I understand that is foolish, for lack of a better word. That single thought is in no way near the top of the foolish things I must admit to. If I had to rank them, it doesn’t even come in the top ten. Propping the envelope up against the vanity mirror, I decide to take a line from one of the all time great southern movies, tomorrow is another day.

  Easing into the tub, I lean my head against the back and stare out into the blue calmness of the Atlantic Ocean.

  Chapter 15

  “Bitch! Whore! Slut! Just because you know your precious Houston’s secret do you really think he will choose you? I hold the magic carrot that dangles in front of him. His beloved Highland Diversified.”

  “Charlotte, I love you. Let’s surprise your parents and go to the mountains for the weekend. They will love it. We can fly up and be there in a matter of a few hours. I see my wonderful husband, Tyler, smiling that gentle smile that warms my heart. How could I say no to him?”

  “You can do it Charlotte, one more step. Just take one more.”

  “I can’t. Please don’t make me.” I say as I look up into the face of a man I hate at this very minute. I am breathing so hard, and the sweat is running down my face. “I am trying.” I say barely above a whisper.

  My eyes fly open, I can move my legs. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. A dream. Rolling onto my side, it was just a dream. A very realistic dream but a dream. As I lay here looking at the ceiling I decide to return to the office. Even though I worked on projects while I was visiting my brothers in Kansas, I suppose I should be the respectable business owner and go in. I am not sure I am actually ready to face my friends just yet. I don’t want their sympathy but there is no time like the present.

  I have been back at Supreme Corporate Travel for a couple of weeks.Just in time to ease the fears of both Lana and Joan about the upcoming event we have lovingly called the Miltman Affair for the last nine months. The wealthy and prestigious J. Elliott Miltman is hosting his annual event at his estate on Key Largo. This is the only reason I returned to Miami. Lana was driving me crazy with all the texts, calls, video chats, snapchats and every other form of communication she could possibly use. Since, I took the lead on this event months ago even down to handpicking the fifty people we hired to work, I gave in to her and came back. I wanted us to both keep our sanity. I didn’t want Lana to implode because I am pretty sure that is what would have happened if I hadn’t returned.

  When we selected those we would employ for this event, I interviewed each of them extensively. Lana completed the background checks. Lana and I
felt that it was best that we find the most discreet people available. J. Elliot’s events bring in some of the wealthiest from around the globe. We assured him the event would only have controlled publicity. So, here I am just days away from the beginning of the event.

  Hopefully, this weekend at J. Elliot’s will launch us into a larger corporate arena. When we first presented our idea we knew Mr. Miltman wanted something different than the usual ocean, scuba diving event so we developed the idea of a Humphrey Bogart movie theme with lesser known Bogart movies as a focus with a wrap of the weekend being a costume party based upon any Bogart movie.

  With the first of the guests scheduled to arrive in just a little over an hour I am out front inspecting. Looking for any additional final touches that might be required to assist with transporting this modern multi-million dollar home back almost one hundred years.

  The first activity for the evening will begin approximately thirty minutes after the final guests arrival time. As for now, I see everything's a go. Both, Lana and Joan are in my ear talking. The first activity for this unique weekend pairs different couples as dinner partners by simply random selection of numbers. This first event is running smoothly as I move throughout the house. I have seen several faces I recognize from photographs along with a few I actually know. Unfortunately, one guest has yet to arrive which throws the activity off somewhat. I just found out for sure that our Japanese couple cancelled at the last minute. As all guests have found their dinner partner, the odd number of guest’s issue was solved allowing everyone to move into the dining area. Midway through the meal, Lana is talking in my ear with our Bluetooth devices telling me that we have a last minute addition as well as our late arrival both of which are settling into their rooms “Great! Just great!” I mumble to myself as I head off to locate our new guests. I find both heading down the stairs deep in conversation.

 

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