Love, Lies and Shattered Hearts

by Carol May

  Hurry home!

  It’ll be a couple of days.

  

  Miss you too.

  Expect an update tomorrow on my lingerie. In fact every day until you return.

  If that is the case clear your calendar for Saturday and Sunday.

  A litle confused I type Saturday and Sunday?

  Sex all day Saturday. Recuperating on Sunday.

  ;) ;) ;)

  Pushing back from my desk, I take a little break standing up to stretch deciding to grab a bottle of water from the fridge in the back as I head toward the door. That’s when the basket catches my eye. It had completely slipped my mind. Smiling as I glance at it make a mental note to go through it when I return.

  With a cold bottle of water in hand, I pick the basket up and return to my chair. Thumbing through the pile I find an envelope that catches my eye. It is from the law firm that is representing Phillip, my former father-in-law, in the wrongful death lawsuit he is filing. He believes the plane crash that killed Tyler and my parents was not caused by pilot error but some type of mechanical malfunction. I have no idea what to think. I just know that the accident changed many people’s lives forever. Puffing out a very deep breath I decide to take the plunge as I break the envelope’s seal. After reading the enclosed letter, I pick up the phone, call the attorneys and have a very long conversation with them. Assuring them I will make my decision in a few days, I disconnect. Trying to process what I have just heard I decide to take a few minutes. Pushing back from my desk, I walk across the room, lock the door and return to my desk. As I sit staring at a spot on the opposite wall I really am not seeing it. In my mind’s eye I see a young naïve woman that thought she would grow old with her college sweetheart who turned out to not exactly be the sweetheart she imagined. Deciding it is time I open my bottom desk drawer and remove a metal lock box. I have no idea how long I sit staring at it. Slowly exhaling I lift my hand and trace it’s edges. Understanding this is not the best place to do this, I look down at the gift Blaine had delivered today. Glancing over to the framed picture of us back in Topeka my eyes wander to the cheesy card that accompanied this beautiful time piece with the black leather band. I’m not thinking of it as a watch because when they are as expensive as what I imagine this one is it isn’t a watch. It is a time piece.

  Counting the minutes until we are together.

  Blaine

  Imagine how surprised I was when another delivery about thirty minutes later brought a pair of black heels with the famous red souls. That enclosed card wasn’t cheesy nor is it on display.

  I envision you wearing only these fuck me heels on Saturday.

  Blaine

  I didn’t realize it was nearing six. Lifting my eyebrows just a little I mumble to myself, “So much for easing back into work.” I might be more like Blaine than I realized since I can lose myself rather easily in my work.

  The phone conversation combined with the little lock box has brought my work day to a close. I collect my things along with the box and exit SCT. On my way home, my mind wanders to 303. At some point in the near future I must decide what to do with the luxury penthouse. Should I keep it? Sale it? Lease it? I doubt if I could give it back. No that is not something I will entertain mainly because I would have to give Houston an explanation as to why I don’t need it anymore. I am not sure I want to travel that path ever. There are so many options. Sighing deeply I take the easy route deciding to not think about it right now. I’ll reserve that for another day in the not so distant future. One major decision a day is enough for me. With just a brief smile I realize that maybe I am not as much like Blaine as I think. Oh well.

  As the taxi pulls up out front of 303 the doorman greets me. “Welcome back, Ms. Jensen. They told me when I came on duty that you had returned. I hope your brother is on the mend.”

  Smiling I look at this kind man when I realize I don’t remember his name. Oh crap! “Yes he is. Thank you. It is good to be back.” Heading toward the elevator I silently chastise myself. I am not that type of person. I don’t forget people’s names. I make a mental note to call down to the concierge and find the answer to my dilemma.

  Stepping out of the elevator I can’t help but smile as I look out across the water. It is beautiful today. It takes about thirty seconds to decide that right here on the taupe leather sofa in front of the wall of windows is where I will open this box but first a shower then into a pair of my favorite cotton lounging pants with an old t-shirt.

  Sitting cross legged on the sofa, I find myself staring at it. I lift the padlock and move through the combination, 06-06-03, our anniversary. Picking up the glass of wine on the table beside the box, I take a long slow drink putting off the inevitable.

  Rummaging through the contents I keep telling myself it is in here. I know it is because I distinctly remember hounding Lana about it on more than one occasion. I am not sure this is actually what I should be doing tonight but I have a decision to make and maybe just maybe the items inside can help me. Who am I kidding? There are no answers inside here but since I have literally opened the proverbial Pandora’s box I must continue. Jackpot! I find what I am looking for. Simply holding the standard white sealed envelop in my hands is cause enough for my heart to race. With shaking hands I slowly rip the end off. Inhaling deeply I search for all the courage I can muster. Finally, I tilt it downward allowing the object inside to fall into my hand. My hand is still trembling as it holds a charred wedding band. Turning it around and around, I hold it up closer to my eyes to examine it. There it is. Engraved inside the band, T and S 4ever. It was Tyler’s idea to have the engraving. I slip it on the index finger of my left hand because it is to big for my ring finder. Gently rubbing my thumb across the top of the band a lone tear slips from my eye. I hold my hand up in front of me just staring at Tyler’s wedding band. We started out happy but it didn’t take very long for things to change but this tonight isn’t about that. It is about the death of my first husband. Continuing to examine his ring I am glad that I took my diamond off in the bathroom. Somehow it seems wrong to wear it while I am doing this.

  I dig for another object. Not finding what I am looking for I continue the search. What I do find is a picture of us on our first date. It was made at one of those silly photo booths at a mall. Looking down at it I can almost hear our laughter each time the flash went off. Finding another sealed envelope but bulky I wonder what is inside. I open it. What falls out are photos of me. Oh my God! Why did Lana put those in here? They are photos of my wrists where he would grab them so violently that I would get bruises. Thumbing through those horrible pictures I find one from another time when he bruised my upper arms. He grabbed me by my upper arms and shook me because I ruined our dinner. Stuffing those back in the envelope as quickly as possible I throw it across the room where it bounces off the wall and lands behind a chair.

  How could he have been so kind and loving one minute and such a violent monster the next? I don’t know what I am going to do about the lawsuit. All of these years I’ve told Phillip no and that I wouldn’t join the lawsuit but after today’s conversation I might change my mind. Taking another long drink from the wine glass, I stretch out on my side just watching the ocean. I drift off to sleep having some disturbing dreams about Tyler.

  Sometime during the night I wake up and stumble to bed. Sprawled across the bed my dreams are once again of a man from my past but not the one I married. Waking up I realize just how late it is. Crap! I am really late for work. Finding my phone, I see I have four missed calls from Blaine. Grimacing I call him back only to get his voice mail. “Sorry. I left my phone in the outer room. I have just woke up which means I am extremely late for the office. It also means I am not as ready to go back to work as I thought or I wouldn’t have slept until eleven. My body must need more rest. I think I am going to head back to bed. Sorry I missed your call.” Next, I call the office. As I am explaining things to Joan I look down only to realize that I still have Tyler’s wedding band on my finge
r. I understand now that he was sick. He must have been. There was a reason he hit me but I have no idea what it was. I will never know. What I do know is I have the answer for the attorney. I will call him tomorrow with my decision as soon as I get into the office since I don’t have his number here. Besides what is one more day after all this time?

  After resting a couple of more days, I agree to a girls night out with Lana, Joan and Rose. The air around us is somewhat stifled but I must get over Lana and Houston. I have moved on and what either of them do is none of my concern. As I tell them about our engagement day they are completely stunned at the lengths Blaine went to. Actually it still sounds like a fairy tale to me and I was there. When I tell them about my present, Lana actually screams with delight, “No! Oh my goodness. I have to see it.” I explain that Blaine is having it delivered via a transport company but it will be about another week before it is here.

  Smiling at me she says, "Well, I suppose you won't be here for another fun filled sunny Thanksgiving?"

  Lifting my drink, I feel just a little sad that she has mentioned the holiday. Shaking my head, I continue, "No, Blaine wants me to meet his Father and his wife during the holiday. They have a cabin somewhere in Georgia where we will be spending the holiday. Apparently, his father is from the Atlanta area and likes to spend Thanksgiving somewhere near there. Blaine says, his father's wife along with her newly divorced son will be there also. That is not something, I am actually looking forward to but I suppose I must get to know the future in-laws, right?"

  Giving me her you've got to be kidding look, Lana answers with, "Of course, you must meet them. It isn't like you will be seeing them all the time. You live in Miami."

  Not wanting to share the news that I am not entirely sure if I will remain in Miami, I reply, "Right." I have already decided to wait and cross that bridge when I come to it.

  Lana continues with, "I am relieved that you won't be here."

  "Really? I am not sure how to take that."

  "Charli, what I meant is I will be spending my holiday with someone special in New York. I can't wait to go back. You know, I fell in love with it the year I interned there. The holidays are really something up there."

  Managing a smile, I say, "Lana, I need to apologize to you. You have always been a great friend to me. More than a friend, you are the closest thing I have to a sister. I am very sorry for the way I behaved before. Whoever you are involved with is absolutely none of my business."

  "Thank you, Charli. I appreciate that. You are like a sister to me also. Actually, I am closer to you than I am to my real sister. All is forgiven but I need to clarify something."

  Interrupting her, I say, "Please, let's don't talk about it, alright? You most certainly do not need to clarify one thing with me. Say no more or I will officially banish you from my office."

  Smiling, Lana agrees.

  Rose pipes in with, “I am glad that is over. Maybe we can all get back to celebrating the fact that Charli is back. Not to mention the rock she has on her finger.”

  Laughing Joan adds, “Hold it up for us to see again.”

  Before, I realize it, our trip to Georgia is upon us. Thanksgiving is just a few days away. Which means, I must fly. I am not petrified of flying anymore. My fear has scaled back to the terrified arena. I must admit the pills do help tremendously plus the fact that we are flying on one of the safest corporate jets that exists does help (I did my research!). Of course walking onto a private jet where the attendant knows you and the Capitan comes out and chit chats before take off helps. The Blaine Company’s jet is top of the line luxury. It feels like being in a flying living room. The beige and cream leather seats are beyond comfortable. Walking around the bottom floor I believe I have passed our luggage at least four times maybe five. There was some type of delay at the office which caused Blaine to move our departure time back. I suppose that is another perk of flying in a private jet. The departure time is when you say not when an airlines says. I expect him any at any moment. I know he is trying to close an important deal before we take off. I assume the delay has something to do with the pending transaction. Margret, our live-in housekeeper, has already left for the holidays. She is visiting her family up in Orlando. Actually, I believe she has a special someone up there as well. She isn’t very talkative. With a small shrug of my shoulders I must admit that her being on the withdrawn all business side is fine with me.

  Pulling into the drive of his father's cabin I am astonished.I should have known better than to think it would actually be what I consider a cabin. I had pictured something along the lines of the cabin my family would stay in when we went skiing, not that we went often but there for a few years it seems as if we went once or twice a year. With three children all involved in some type of sport eventually we stopped going altogether. I suppose it was just too difficult to work around everyone’s schedule. I once thought that cabin was nice but it looked like a hut compared to this place. Even though it is late, I can still make out a wrap around porch with the expensive (I’m sure) outdoor furniture scattered around it. I follow Blaine around the porch to a set of steps on the backside. He explained on the flight, that his father had turned the lower level into a suite for him complete with his own private entrance several years ago. Punching in a security code, we move down a set of stairs where the lights automatically come on in the great room. I vaguely remember him making a comment on the flight up about how those automatic lights saved him from falling down this very flight of stairs.

  I wake to Blaine talking to someone out in the great room followed by "No, she is still asleep." Rolling over, I decide to not make him out to be a liar, as I drift off I hear footsteps going up the stairs.

  Finally waking up for real this time, I glance over at the clock. Crap! Crap! Double crap! It is after ten a.m. What in the world must his father and stepmother think of me. Jumping up, I take what was suppose to be a quick shower but when the water from the overhead rain shower faucet hit me, I simply stand under it enjoying the gentle pelting of the warm water across my back and shoulders.

  Stepping out, I find a heated towel as I pull it off of the rack. Holy cow, Mr. Carlton really knows how to build a cabin. Dressing in a pair of dark skinny jeans. topped with an oversized wine cabled knit sweater, and a grey print scarf, I apply my makeup. Looking around our room, I find my weathered grey knee high boots. Stepping back from the mirror, I decide to leave my hair down. I am pleased with my overall appearance for my first Carlton family meeting. I admit I am nervous. From what Blaine shared with me before we left Miami this is a small celebration. Blaine's father, Mitchell, his wife and her son. Blaine refuses to call her his stepmother. He believes that term is reserved for children. I suppose he is correct. I've never had to think about it.

  Opening the door to the downstairs great room, I find I am alone. Somewhere in the back of my mind I vaguely remember Blaine kissing me and saying something about him being upstairs. Turning toward the stairs that Blaine pointed out to me last night, I head off in search of the others. Finding the golden honey oak steps, I slowly take each step giving myself a pep talk on the way up. “This will be a good holiday. They maybe wealthy but you deal with wealthy people all the time.” Reaching the top, I pause since I am faced with several closed doors and a small corridor. Listening for a moment, I allow my senses to guide me. Standing just outside the main great room, taking a silent deep breath I survey my surroundings. To my right is a living area, complete with a grand stacked stone fireplace. The popping sounds of the wood as it burns tells me this is an actual log fire burning not a gas one.

  Directly ahead of me is a kitchen area, that appears to have the newest stainless steel appliances. There is a man in a chef's uniform moving about the area. No doubt he is responsible for the heavenly smells that are tantalizing my nose. I wonder if he is from one of Blaine’s restaurants. Hum, I make a mental note to ask Blaine about that. Scanning the space, I do not see anyone else. Walking over to the coffee maker, I take a mug
that is sitting beside it and pour myself a cup. The chef explains that the men have gone for a walk in the woods. “Mrs. Carlton just stepped out. I believe she is taking a call.” Thanking him I turn to look around the room in hopes that it might possibly give me some idea or at least a clue to the type of people the Carltons are. What I see is a perfect room that reeks of money. I seem to be drawn to the large stone fireplace. Standing in front of the mantle, I watch the jump and leap of the red/orange in what might be called the dance of the flames. With my mug in hand my eyes travel upward. There are no personal objects or photographs. Just a perfectly decorated dark wood mantle. Turning to survey the room I can’t help but smile when I spot the perfect place. Curling up in an oversized wing back chair in a corner of the room, I am partially hidden from the chef but close enough to the fire to appreciate it’s warmth. I like it in this chair. It just feels a little strange for me to be sitting in the same room with him while he is preparing a meal.

  Picking up a book lying on the table, I lose myself in some murder mystery. I hear a door open I look toward it at almost the time Blaine says, "Darlin’ I see you are awake. That pill really knocked you out." Coming over, he kisses me on the head, mumbling just loud enough for me to hear, "I've got something that I would prefer to knock you out with." Giving me a quick wink as he pulls away.

  With that little remark, a small chuckle escapes me. I have no doubt that my face is at least a light shade of red. Taking me by the hand, I rise to stand beside him. "Charli, this is my father.” An older version of Blaine joins us by the fireplace .

  Smiling, at him as I say, “Hello. It is nice to meet you Mr. Carlton.” Quickly I understand where Blaine’s height and looks come from.

  Returning my smile he says, “Please call me Mitchell.”

  With a slight nod, I agree but before our conversation progresses very far, his wife, Evelyn enters the room in a sweeping fashion. She looks as if she might possibly have just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Suddenly, I feel as if I should have taken just a little longer getting dressed. After a long conversation with the chef, she joins us. It doesn't take very long for me to form an opinion of her. Admittedly, it isn't a very favorable one. Directing us to take a seat for some reason the three of us do as we are told. It must be the authoritative tone with which she speaks. Blaine and I move to the soft chocolate leather sofa opposite the fire place which puts our back to the remainder of the room. Good. I might have to hear the chef cooking but at least I don’t have to watch him as I sit while he prepares my meal. I suppose the uneasiness I feel is due to the fact that I have never been exposed to anything like this. Evelyn and Mitchell take seats in the side chairs. Thank God she did not come into the room while I was reading. What in the world would I have said to her? Trying not to stare but occasionally looking at her as she speaks, I can’t help feel she looks familiar. It might simply be that she reminds me of some photograph I have seen while doing my research. Generally, other women do not immediate me but she sure has. Why I have absolutely no idea but it might be the tone of her voice. It isn’t exactly arrogant but if I were back in Kansas I would more than likely described it as bitchy. Yes, that is what I will secretly go with. Bitchy. She continues to dominate the conversation with completely irrelevant topics about social gatherings, people I obviously do not know, and the best places to shop. I have absolutely no doubt she is attempting to prove a point to Blaine that I am beneath him. Smiling to myself, I can’t help but think about last night when I was actually beneath him. Those blue eyes looking down at me with desire written across his face.