Perfect

by Delaney Diamond

  “Thank you, Shaun.”

  Daniella headed toward the front door. Before she left, she wanted to sit out on the beach and watch the sun bathe the landscape in a burst of bright color before it disappeared.

  “Ma’am, he mentioned something about a door…?”

  “The bathroom door. It’s in the main bedroom. Up the stairs and to the right.”

  “Thank you.” He hurried up the stairs.

  “Shaun?” He paused, already halfway up to view the problem and assess how to handle it. “When you talk to him, would you…tell him to call me? Please.”

  He nodded, the expression of pity and contrition making another appearance. Then he continued up the stairs, and Daniella walked out the door to take one last look at paradise.

  Chapter Twenty

  Daniella sat impatiently at Seattle Trust Bank. Since her return to the States, she’d charged forward with her plan to get financing to open the gallery in New York. She hadn’t heard from Cyrus, although she knew he’d returned a few days ago.

  Shaun had shown up at the house to get some of his things and let it slip Cyrus was staying at the Four Seasons Hotel. She’d been tempted to call but didn’t know if a longer cooling off period was necessary. Rather than wallow in indecision, she’d continued working on her expansion. With the property under contract, she needed a larger line of credit to purchase inventory and renovate the space, all of which distracted her from her marital problems.

  She’d successfully applied for and received a line of credit from the bank almost two years ago, which had allowed her to expand the Ballard location. She’d actually been surprised by the amount they’d loaned her, considering her business had been so young. Her situation had changed drastically since then. Beaux-Arts Galleries had proven itself when she’d made her payments on time, so she saw no reason why she shouldn’t get an expansion in her line of credit.

  Still, she was nervous. Her banker, Alex, was on vacation and another banker, Bridgette, had come out to greet her and escort her into her office. She was a chunky blonde who smiled when she spoke. Daniella had never seen her before, and it was obvious she was fairly new because she didn’t have the same level of confidence Alex did. After accessing Daniella’s account via computer, she twisted her hands on the desk, and the nervous action made Daniella uneasy. She didn’t know if Bridgette was intimidated or if she was hiding something. In her gut, she felt it was the latter, and she worried it had to do with her husband. She would be sick if he’d influenced the bank into refusing her loan.

  “I’m sorry, but we’re unable to process your request at this time,” Bridgette explained. “Without Alex here, there’s not much I can do. He’s familiar with your account. Can I provide some other assistance?” She appeared deeply apologetic.

  Daniella could feel her fear mounting. They were giving her the brush off. “Surely there’s someone else here who can help me. Alex’s supervisor, perhaps?” What could possibly be wrong? If they were going to decline her loan request, they needed to let her know.

  “Um…I…” Bridgette searched the bank lobby for someone. “One moment, please,” she said, and rushed off.

  Now Daniella was even more concerned.

  Her phone vibrated and she looked down to see a text from her office manager asking how everything was going. She ignored it for now. She didn’t have an answer yet.

  “Ms. Barrett, I’m so sorry for the delay.” Her head lifted at the sound of a man’s voice. She recognized him as the bank manager. He wore a suit and had an affable round face. He laughed, an uneasy sound that suggested that they’d screwed up somehow. “We’ve had this all cleared up. Bridgette is new here and didn’t realize we should not keep you waiting. Whatever you need is not a problem.”

  Daniella blinked, surprised at the turnabout. “Oh. Well, you don’t know how much I need.”

  “How much do you need?” he asked in a cheerful voice. He clasped his hands in front of him.

  “I need another five hundred thousand dollars to do some renovations and purchase inventory for my new gallery in New York. I have the business plan right here.” She held it up, but he didn’t take it. “I realize I’m asking for a lot of money, but—”

  “Absolutely you can!” He laughed heartily and waved his hand as if she was being foolish to suggest otherwise. He didn’t even acknowledge the plan she held out to him. “Why don’t we make it an even one million?”

  Taken aback, Daniella stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Just in case. Your business is thriving, growing fast, and we don’t want you to have to be in this situation again where you need to wait. That will not do. Business decisions need to be made in a split second.” He snapped his fingers. “No time for delays.”

  At a loss for words, Daniella could only look at the man. He was being beyond accommodating by offering twice the requested amount. Had he lost his mind? “I suppose,” she said cautiously.

  “Wonderful. Stay right there, and we’ll type up the paperwork and bring it for you to sign.”

  “Okay…thank you.”

  Bridgette brought her water to drink while she waited. Daniella was so stunned she almost forgot to reply to the text and let her employee know the increased line of credit was a go.

  Squeeee!! her office manager texted back.

  She smiled and texted her back. LOL. Yes, squee! Finally, a bit of good news in the mess her life had become.

  I’ll get started on our plans. So excited!!!

  A few days ago, her office manager had suggested they have a party to celebrate the move to New York once the lease had been signed. She suggested sending out invitations to the customers on their mailing list and having a big bash. Even though her heart wasn’t in it, Daniella knew she’d have to put on her happy face and go along with the party because it was a good idea. It would allow them to get the word out and plug the New York location at the same time they indulged in a bit of celebration at their success. And her staff deserved this moment to celebrate because they’d worked hard right along with her.

  A short time later, Bridgette ushered Daniella into her office to sign the documents for the expanded line of credit. “Thank you so much. I appreciate it,” she said, as she scribbled her signature on the appropriate lines.

  “It’s no problem, of course,” Bridgette said. She took the completed paperwork and tapped the ends on the desk. “I’ll make a copy for you. Did you need a set for your husband, too?”

  Daniella frowned, surprised by the question. “Why would my husband need a set of the documents?”

  “I’m sorry. That’s a silly question.” Bridgette walked around the desk. “I assumed since Mr. Johnson guaranteed the line of credit, he would get a copy.”

  “Since…wait a minute, what?” Daniella stood up, effectively halting Bridgette on her way out the door. “What do you mean my husband guaranteed the line of credit? He has nothing to do with Beaux-Arts Galleries.”

  Bridgette’s lips formed into a perfect circle of dismay. Two spots the same color as her red lipstick flamed her cheeks in rouge. “I—I’m sorry. Perhaps I misspoke.” She swallowed.

  “No, you didn’t. What does my husband, Cyrus Johnson, have to do with this?”

  “I’m s-sorry, Ms. Barrett. Please…” Bridgette looked helplessly at the open door, seeking to escape but knowing she couldn’t bolt in the middle of the conversation.

  “I want an answer,” Daniella said. Her voice had grown louder, and a patron seated outside the door looked up from the magazine in his hands.

  The bank manager appeared in the doorway. “Is there a problem?” He looked from one to the other.

  “I…I said something I guess I shouldn’t have,” Bridgette stuttered. At this point, her entire face had reddened. When she explained what she’d done, the blood drained from the manager’s face.

  “Did you give me that money because of who my husband is?” Daniella asked.

  He lifted a placating hand to her. “Ms. Barrett,
please, you have to understand…please don’t tell your husband. He told us not to say anything, and Bridgette didn’t know.”

  Beside him, Bridgette’s head bounced up and down in agreement.

  “Are you saying Cyrus knows about this? Did you call him and tell him I asked for an expanded line of credit?” If so, it was an astronomical breach of confidentiality.

  “No. But Mr. Johnson handpicked Alex to handle your affairs and insisted you receive whatever you need whenever you requested it.”

  “That’s impossible,” Daniella said. “The first loan you gave me was almost two years ago.” She’d already filed for divorce by then.

  “That’s correct, ma’am, and the agreement has been in place ever since. Then, approximately two months ago, your husband contacted us to confirm it was still intact. We assured him it was.”

  Daniella knew what would have prompted him to call. The night of Ivy’s engagement party, when she’d told him about her plan to expand to New York. He’d taken the information from the casual question he’d asked about her business to reaffirm the safety net he’d put in place for her was still intact. He didn’t want anything standing in the way of her expansion plans.

  “We’ve been doing business with the Johnson family for years,” the manager continued. “We would never go against his instructions.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would he do that?” Daniella wondered out loud. She’d meant it to be a rhetorical question, but Bridgette answered.

  “Why wouldn’t he?” she asked, confusion etched in her face. “He’s your husband.”

  True, he was her husband, even though he no longer wanted to be. The extent to which he’d gone to ensure her success boggled her mind.

  They waited for her response, and she realized that because of who she was, who she had married, they were extremely nervous and worried about the outcome of today’s visit. If she complained to Cyrus, they were concerned he’d be so annoyed he’d move his money to a different bank because his explicit instructions had not been followed. While she knew he and his family did business with other banks—spreading the risk, he would call it—to be able to say this was one of them was quite an honor. It spoke volumes that the Johnsons entrusted Seattle Trust Bank with their financial assets and had done so for years.

  “I won’t say anything to my husband,” she assured them.

  “Oh, thank God,” the manager blurted, slumping against the wall. Then, as if he realized he’d said it out loud, he blushed and straightened. “I mean, thank you. We’ll get you taken care of right away,” he said.

  “Right away,” Bridgette echoed.

  They rushed from the office, and Daniella retook her seat, overwhelmed by what she had learned. She stared down at the rings on her finger. Her heart was heavy.

  What was Cyrus doing now? Did he think about her as much as she thought about him? Did he still want to make her happy, or had she killed all of the affection he’d held for her? What else had he done that went unnoticed and unappreciated? Yet he kept on working, kept on doing—unselfishly, expecting nothing in return, and all without a word of thanks.

  ****

  With loan documents in hand, Daniella exited the bank. She should have been ecstatic, but her mood was tempered by what she’d come to accept about her husband. She was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn’t see Roland on the sidewalk.

  “Hey.” He put up his hands and stopped her. “How are you? Are you okay?”

  The last time they’d spoken was when she’d called to tell him Cyrus would give him his job back. To be honest, she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him now. “I’m fine. I have a lot on my mind.”

  “I know we haven’t talked, but um…after Cyrus gave me my job back, he sold his interest in BoldMine to a group of investors specializing in technology companies.”

  “Congratulations. I should probably go…”

  His hand on her arm detained her. “Would you like to grab a coffee or something?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Daniella said with a shake of her head. “You know how Cyrus feels about you and me being together.”

  “So you’re going to do whatever your husband says?” Roland laughed.

  “I don’t do whatever he says, but—”

  “Not you, too, Daniella. You used to have your own mind. Tell me you’re not like everybody else, falling all over yourself and drinking the Johnson Kool-Aid.”

  His comments stung. “I’m a Johnson.” She may not have been born into the family, but she was part of them now. After they’d separated she dropped that part of her name, but now she finally accepted it, and she wouldn’t tolerate Roland or anyone else making disparaging remarks about them.

  Roland looked taken aback, his eyebrows elevating over his eyes. “What’s happened to you? You’re still trying to get a divorce, aren’t you? You know Cyrus is a control freak who uses questionable methods to get what he wants. Look at what he did to me.”

  “What he did to you? You took the money he offered and then ratted him out. So what does that say about you?” Roland had clearly forgotten his role in the matter.

  “I was desperate, but I think I proved how much I cared about you when I tracked you down and apologized.”

  “That had nothing to do with caring about me,” Daniella said. She’d thought long and hard about his reappearance in her life and recognized the truth. “You thought your company was about to take off, and you wanted to get back at Cyrus through me. He forced you to see your true self—someone who would do anything for money. You hated him for it, and maybe you even hated me a little bit because I married him after you and I broke up.”

  “That’s a ridiculous theory.”

  “Is it?”

  His eyes hardened. “You’re not going to leave him, are you? Being married to him has finally turned you into a Johnson clone.”

  Daniella’s patience snapped in half. “No, being married to him has made me realize what a good man he is. He has more integrity in his little finger than you have in your entire body. He may not be perfect, but he protects the people he loves and he’s a man of his word. And that, Roland, is more than I can say about you.”

  She left him standing on the corner, a look of bewilderment on his face.

  She hurried to her car in the parking lot and hopped in. She tossed the bank paperwork on the passenger seat and took a breath to calm down.

  What if Cyrus never forgave her? The thought of losing him was unbearable. He had to take her back. She wrapped her hand around her waist to calm her queasy stomach.

  But if she wanted forgiveness, she had to give it, too. Time to make some changes in her life.

  She pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed 411.

  “Welcome to directory assistance. City and state, please,” the automated voice said.

  Daniella closed her eyes, clutching the phone tight in her hands. “Miami, Florida.”

  “Say the name of the business you want, or say residence.”

  “Residence.”

  An operator came on the line. “Hello. What is the last name of the person you’re trying to reach?”

  “Barrett.” She gripped the steering wheel, needing the support.

  “And the first name?”

  “Carlos,” Daniella whispered. Her throat had drawn so tight she could barely speak.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Carlos,” Daniella said, louder. “The name is Carlos Barrett.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Daniella knew what she was doing was rotten, but it was the only thing she could think of to salvage her marriage. Davis, her attorney, looked across his crowded desk at her, his bushy gray brows furrowed in concern.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “You’re about to be free from your husband—something you’ve tried to accomplish for three years. Everything you’ve asked for, he’s given you. Then you make another request, which delays the proceedings, and now you want the house?” It wasn�
�t just concern in his voice. He was appalled at her request.

  “What’s your point?” Daniella asked.

  Cyrus had used the courts to delay what he didn’t want to happen. Now she was doing the same. Any woman would be happy with such a generous settlement and the newfound ease she had in dissolving her marriage. Cyrus was giving her above and beyond what she’d requested. He’d even offered to pay her attorney fees, but his generosity only reminded her of how much their relationship had disintegrated. How much he wanted her out of his life.

  “Your husband’s being surprisingly generous. In addition to the settlement he’s given you according to the prenup, you’re going to receive generous spousal support, much more than I expected. He’s not fighting you on anything. All you have to do is sign.”

  “I want the house,” Daniella said, refusing to budge, no matter how ridiculous she sounded. She didn’t need the house and certainly couldn’t afford it’s upkeep. She would save the request for a maintenance allowance, in case she needed it, but didn’t think she would. Cyrus would never give up the mansion. Not only did he love the house, he appreciated the privacy of the neighborhood.

  Davis’s expression turned thoughtful. “If I didn’t know better…” He hesitated, but she knew he saw through her ruse, although he hesitated to call her on it. “If you ask for too much, this whole process could fall apart and we’ll be back to square one.”

  That’s what she was hoping for. She twisted the rings on her finger. “He’ll never give up the house,” she said with confidence. “He’ll fight me.” Which would delay the divorce, which meant she could hold onto him that much longer and he couldn’t move on.

  “I don’t doubt he will. He bought it before you were married, and he’s already agreed to give you the flat in London.” It had been purchased after they married, but she didn’t want it either. He found it more convenient to stay there than at a hotel when he visited Johnson Enterprises European headquarters. She had no use for the place, but Cyrus had been surprisingly amenable to turning it over to her. With regard to the house, though, she was confident he wouldn’t budge.