by Joan Kilby
Scott had to admit now what he’d known the moment he entered the penthouse. She was gone, and her absence meant something vital was missing, as if the life had been sucked out of his home. He went looking for some trace of her anyway, some reason to hope she’d only stepped out for a moment and was coming back.
Nothing.
Nothing in the bathroom. No shampoo or body lotion or toothbrush, nothing to mark that she’d lived here. That for a time she’d been an intimate part of his life.
Nothing but memories.
He could still see her ear-to-ear grin as she hung up the phone and proclaimed herself “Firewall!” Or the time she’d tormented him with lust as a problem-solving mechanism. And infuriated him by thrusting the phone in his hand with his father on the other end of the line. Then just when he was wishing she’d never moved in, she’d turned his heart inside out with a sweet, soulful hug that reminded him why they were best friends.
Were they? Or had that all vanished, too?
He walked slowly back to the living room and sank onto the couch, staring at the thin bank of fog slowly moving up Puget Sound. He’d blown it. He’d wanted more than friendship. So he’d blown it.
The hell of it was, he didn’t know where he’d gone wrong. She must not have believed that he could get funding and her job. He’d failed her and broken his promise and so she’d left. His breath hitched in his chest and he swiped the heel of his hand over his eyes.
He wrapped his arms around himself, gripping his shoulders, and buried his head in his arms, trying to block the gnawing pain in his heart. Meanwhile, an insidious realization was worming its way into his mind. All along, he’d thought he was afraid of getting involved with Cassy because he would end up hurting her and screw up their friendship. Because he wasn’t good at romance and all his relationships ended badly.
Now he knew the truth. What he was really afraid of was her leaving him.
His father had said on the phone, You’re in love with her, that’s why you want her to be CFO. It’s not good business, son.
Love Cassy? He’d hotly denied it but it was true. He’d fixated on her being CFO as a way of keeping her with him. She’d told him how much she wanted that job, how bored she was doing taxes back in Bellingham. So it made sense that if she had a great job, she would stick around long enough to give their new relationship a chance to grow.
Not that he needed time. He knew right now he wanted her, not just for a few months or a year, but forever. A whole lot of things had suddenly become clear.
He loved her. He didn’t want her as an employee. He wanted her as a life partner. To marry. To have and to hold.
His other relationships always ended badly because all these years he’d been in love with Cassy. He just hadn’t known it until now. He’d thought her friendship was the most important thing in his life. It still was massively important. But he loved her. He’d had no idea how much bigger an emotion love was.
And she was gone. But why? He dragged his hands down his face. It did not compute. Illogical as her running away might be, one thing was very clear. He had to get her back.
He shook his head and tried to think. Surely she wouldn’t move out without some communication. A note might give him a clue to her state of mind. He jumped to his feet, scanning the dining table, the kitchen counter. There, by the phone, a loose sheet of the lime-green notepaper she used.
Lying atop the paper was her engagement ring. Her fake engagement ring. Why was she always so insistent on the fake aspect of the arrangement? Because she wanted it to be fake, or because she wanted him to contradict her? Why hadn’t he contradicted her? For the past ten years, at the back of his mind he always thought that once the Dreamcatcher was sorted out he would make his move on her, see if his attraction really meant anything or if it was simply curiosity. A decade had slipped by while he wasn’t looking. What woman waited that long for a guy? Then suddenly they’d had the fake engagement. Everything felt rushed. He hadn’t been ready or able to deal with the deeper reality of their relationship. He hadn’t been able to deal with the intensity of his feelings for her.
Now she’s gone and it’s too late.
He made himself read the note.
Thanks for everything and good luck. I wouldn’t have missed a minute of this ride with you.
PS Don’t try to change my mind. This way we can remain Best Friends Forever.
Cassy.
Not good enough. Best friends was no longer enough.
He needed a plan. Because he thought best when he was moving, he paced before the window, his fingers twitching at his side. What would Cassy advise him to do if he was in the doghouse with a girlfriend and wanted to make up? He’d given her the wildflowers. Couldn’t do that again. What came next?
He ran to his bedroom and scrabbled in the nightstand drawer for the notes he’d taken during one of their Skype conversations.
“If flowers don’t work, up the ante with perfume or fine jewelry.”
He snapped his fingers. “Of course.” The engagement might have been fake, but there’d been nothing false about her enjoyment of the fabulous pink diamond. Excellent. Now he had something to go forward with. He was impatient to see her right away, but finding the right jewelry could take a day or two. It would be difficult to hold on, but the delay would be worthwhile if she came back to him.
…
Yawning, Cassy dragged a black queen onto a red king and surveyed the board. The holding spaces were full and she had nowhere else to move. Come on, there was always something she could do. Or she could do some work. The problem was, she lacked motivation. One minute she’d had this amazing job full of important tasks and interesting challenges. The next…nothing.
She’d e-mailed her clients to say she was open for business again. The response had been a resounding silence. All except for Maisie Perkins, the elderly woman who ran the yarn shop and gave knitting lessons. She hadn’t even realized Cassy had been away and her meticulously kept records were sitting in Cassy’s in-box when she’d arrived home two days ago.
She would start on Maisie’s file any minute now. Just as soon as she finished this game of solitaire. Or maybe she should wash some clothes. Her cat pajamas were grubby around the cuffs.
She was glad she’d come back, even if things were slow right now. Yep, totally the right decision. Scott was better off without her. He would figure things out more easily without her around, distracting him.
There was only one move she could see, putting the red three on the black four, but that didn’t open up anything. She did it anyway.
You lose. Game over!
Tell me something I don’t know.
Ian had sent her an application form for the MBA program at Harvard, repeating his offer to pay her tuition fees. She couldn’t accept that. She had savings of her own. If she were to go back to school she would pay for it herself. She sighed. After working for Scott, she would never be content with her old life again, not after the excitement of helping to grow his company. She missed the geeksters, too. Tom’s slogans always made her smile. Park had so much energy it was contagious. Leonard was sweet and shy. She wondered if he would ever get the courage to look for that girl he’d liked in high school.
And she missed Scott. More than anything else in the whole wide world, she missed Scott. The worst had happened, just as she’d feared. The romance had failed and she’d not only lost her lover, she’d lost her best friend.
Why hadn’t he called? She’d thought for sure he would at least phone. But no. She checked her Skype account day and night because he sometimes forgot what time it was. Nothing. No message. No failed attempt at contact.
The sad fact was, she’d wanted something he couldn’t give her. He’d suggested they go through with the wedding. If it was enough for him, why wasn’t it enough for her?
Because she wasn’t ready to settle, not even for Scott.
Oh, she knew she was important to him, probably more important than anyone else in
his life. But now that she’d glimpsed love she couldn’t go back to simply being friends. Or even friends and lovers. She wanted a true marriage of hearts, minds, and bodies.
Why was he so fixated on her having the damn CFO job? Sure, it would have been nice but it wasn’t the most important thing. In fact, his obsession with the job was part of what had pushed her away. He was too much like his father, putting business ahead of his family.
She’d found reasons to excuse Ian’s abandonment of Scott when he was a child, because she believed that Scott wouldn’t heal inside until he and his father reconciled and because she believed everyone, including Ian, deserved a second chance. But she hated to think that Scott could be that obsessed with business.
She, on the other hand, should take a leaf from his book and be a little more focused. More proactive. She needed to not always put Scott front and center. The thought seemed like sacrilege but it was true. She needed to do something just for herself.
She closed the solitaire app and reached for the Harvard application. Before the doubts could cloud her mind, or she could talk herself out of it, she started filling out the form. Why had she left it so long to take this step? She didn’t fully understand herself, knew only that it had something to do with waiting for Scott. Well, regardless of what happened between them in the future, she knew she was doing the right thing. As she’d discovered while working for Scott, taking action and moving forward felt good.
A noise made her look out the window. A UPS van was pulling into her driveway. Crap. Two in the afternoon and she was still in her pajamas. Now the driver was climbing down, going around the side, and bringing out a parcel. Now he was coming up the walk to her front door. She contemplated rushing to her room and getting changed. Then the doorbell rang and it was too late. Oh well, she wasn’t wearing anything the UPS guy hadn’t seen before.
“Hey, Joe,” she said, opening the door. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad. You?” He handed her a pen and the form to sign.
“Yeah, okay.” She scribbled her signature, one eye on the return address. Scott’s. Had she forgotten something under the bed?
Joe left.
Cassy turned the narrow rectangular package over in her hands. What could it be? She tore off the paper. Inside was padding, then wrapping paper, then a note in Scott’s sprawling handwriting.
I hope these put the sparkle back in your eyes.
Oh, God. No. Not… She ripped open the embossed paper to find the distinctive turquoise box. It was. Damn him. Damn him to hell. Tears started from her eyes even before she opened it and saw the exquisite pink diamond earrings and matching necklace.
This was step two in her patented three-phase plan to let down an ex-girlfriend gently. He was treating her just the way he’d treated all the other women who had passed through his life.
Didn’t he care about her at all?
…
Scott couldn’t believe his eyes when he opened the package.
She sent the diamonds back.
Didn’t she care about him at all?
He rested his chin in the palm of his hand and focused his attention on the rejected jewelry. She’d initially tossed away the wildflowers, too, then admitted she really did like them. But this looked to be a more thought-out statement. This time, he couldn’t say he’d never given another woman jewelry because he had, and she knew it.
She must be angrier than he thought.
Pick up the phone and call her.
Scott slid off the barstool and paced across to the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. Call him a coward, but he didn’t want to risk hearing her telling him no, go away, it’s over. If she did that, he wouldn’t know what to say to stop her. And he had too many other things on his mind. He had part of the financing but he needed more money. He’d found Cassy’s list of angel investors in her desk and sent out feelers, but waiting to hear back was excruciating. He needed to hire another office manager and an accountant and oversee the factory renovation and…
Oh, God, a dozen other things. He couldn’t focus on work while Cassy was away.
He needed to soften her up some more.
What was next? He consulted his notes again. A trip. Not just any trip, something really flash to get her attention. Paris? No, he took all his women to Paris. Women he’d liked but not loved. He needed someplace fresh, someplace special that would be his and Cassy’s alone.
He clicked his fingers. What was that old movie she’d wanted to watch that first night? Something with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. Roman Holiday, that was it. He’d given in, of course, because he’d rather she be happy than he get his own way. She’d exclaimed over the ancient landmarks and expressed regret that she hadn’t visited the city when she’d backpacked through Europe as a student.
Rome it was. Excellent. He rubbed his hands together. If a ticket for a romantic weekend in the eternal city didn’t work, he didn’t know what would.
…
Cassy stared at the ticket to Rome the UPS guy had just delivered. She felt like ripping it in two. This confirmed it. Scott was trying to buy her off. She had a good mind to call him and give him a piece of her mind. Who did he think she was, some floozy he could fob off with expensive baubles and flashy trips? She didn’t understand him.
Call and find out exactly what’s going on in that big brain of his.
Cassy started to reach for the phone, then pushed away from her desk to check on Rupert in his aquarium. He’d seemed listless and depressed so she’d bought an angelfish thinking the company would cheer him up. But poor Rupert had hidden in the grotto, bullied by the much larger new arrival.
She sprinkled a few flakes of fish food on the surface of the water. “Come on, sweetie. Come out and fight for what you want.”
She wished she had the guts to fight for Scott. She wouldn’t call him. She was weak where he was concerned. He would talk her into coming back to Seattle and continuing on as they had been. Or worse, getting married even though he didn’t truly love her. She might agree to anything just to be near him. But she couldn’t do that. In the long run, it would hurt too much, having only part of a relationship. She wanted it all. If by some chance he did truly love her, he needed to figure that out. He needed to be smart enough and brave enough to tell her.
She put the ticket back in the envelope, scribbled a note about her future plans, taped the envelope shut, and wrote “Return to Sender.” Then she walked out to the mailbox and dropped the letter in.
…
Scott clicked on Cassy’s Facebook page as he took another swig of scotch from the half-empty bottle. He didn’t often get drunk but tonight he was making a serious effort. Aha! She’d posted an entry, lessee, eight hours ago. Not about receiving fabulous gifts from the man she loved. Oh, no! It was about a fish. An ugly black goldfish with bug eyes named Rupert. There was even a photograph of Rupert cowering beneath a ceramic arch while Beelzebub the angelfish, circled relentlessly. There were twenty-two comments in answer to Cassy’s question about what to do about Rupert and Beelzebub. Didn’t people have anything better to do?
He noticed she hadn’t posted a question about whether to go back to her fake fiancé. Should he post a comment? Or start a new thread? Hey, what have you got against Rome?
The intercom buzzer from the concierge rang. Scott got up and, weaving slightly, went to answer. “Hey, Martin.”
“You have a visitor, Mr. Thornton.”
His heart gave a wild flip. “Who is it?”
“Mr. Ian Thornton.”
Oh, shit!
He looked at the glass of scotch in his hand. He wasn’t in any shape to talk to anyone, let alone his father. Especially after the way their last conversation ended. On the other hand, he needed to talk to someone, and his dad was partly responsible for Cassy leaving.
“Send him up.”
A minute or so later, the elevator door opened and his father stepped into his apartment. He nodded at Scott, then glanced around at the lux
urious fittings. Scott waited in the living room, wanting to meet him halfway but struggling with his pride.
Ian came to him, extending a hand. “Nice place.”
Scott took his hand. “Drink?”
“Sure.” Ian took a seat on the leather couch and crossed a leg over his knee, pulling up the pant leg to avoid stretching the fabric. “Where’s Cassy?”
“Gone.” Scott hesitated, the bottle over the glass. “Ice? Soda?”
“Neat.”
Same as him. Hereditary trait or coincidence? Who the hell knew? He poured out two fingers, then sloshed in a third. “I haven’t changed my mind, by the way. Lorraine Dempsey came to the party.” No need to tell him Lorraine wasn’t stumping up all the money.
“So I heard through the grapevine.” Ian took a sip and set his glass on the coffee table. “I was hoping Cassy would be here so we could discuss my proposition.”
“Told you, she’s gone.” Damn, he was slurring his words. Enunciating carefully, he added, “She’s out of a job, so why would she stay?”
Ian’s frown sharpened. “Because you two are engaged.”
Scott shook his head and thought he could feel his brain hitting the sides of his skull. “Fake engaged. She gave the ring back.”
“Where did she go?”
“Home to Rupert the goldfish.” Scott gulped at his scotch and belched.
“Well, get her back. I came to say I’ve changed my mind. I was too dogmatic. I’d like to see her in a high position, although not CFO, not right away. Maybe assistant CFO. If she gets her MBA then she can be moved up.”
“She’s applied to Harvard Business School. She added a note to that effect when she returned the airplane ticket to Rome I sent her with me as companion. I also gave her diamonds, big ones.” Scott rubbed his hands over his pricking eyes. “She’s returned all my presents. I gave her everything I could think of that women want from a man.” Bitterly, he added, “Nothing worked. How the hell is a man supposed to know what a woman wants?”
Ian gave him a long hard look. “Did you tell her you love her?”
Scott didn’t answer. Tell her he loved her? What if she said she didn’t love him? What if she said all she wanted was to be friends? Friends with benefits. That wasn’t bad—it was pretty damn good, in fact—but it wasn’t enough. “Told you…I’m not in love with her.”