Cass regarded her skeptically. “Help her find an apartment? Or are you asking me for something else, ’cause it sounds like there’s something more going on.”
“Three months ago she had a perfect life with a house in the suburbs and spent her days at the country club. Now she’s looking for an apartment in Midtown and teaching elementary school to support herself.”
“Again, why is this our problem?”
“I know it isn’t my fault, but I…” Davis sighed. She couldn’t let herself feel guilty for something she hadn’t known, but her connection to the destruction of another person’s life upset her. Her own pain undid her, and knowing she’d played any part in inflicting hurt on the beautiful woman across the street could break her completely. She couldn’t explain any of that to cool, logical Cass, so she simply said, “I know how she feels.”
“Fine. I think there’s more going on here than a kinship of grief, but I promise she’ll have an apartment by the end of the day.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you want to go say hello?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Maybe not, since last time she saw you she fainted then threw up.”
And we shared the most intense kiss of my life, then held each other until we fell asleep. As much as she’d tried to forget that part, memories of Annabelle clutching her fiercely invaded her dreams as often as any other image from that awful day. She shivered at the reminder of how easily her emotions had transferred onto the one other person in the world who really understood them. “Maybe I should slip back inside until you get her out of here.”
“Good call, ’cause if either one of you were to pass out, I’d pretend not to know you.”
“Promise you’ll be nice.”
“I promise,” Cass said grudgingly, then added more softly, “Will you be okay?”
“Fine.” Davis lied, then forced her most convincing smile before retreating back into The Flying Biscuit. She tried to breathe normally and keep her hands from shaking. She looked at the posters and event flyers, anything to keep herself from glancing out the window. She didn’t want to watch Cass greet Annabelle or see which direction they went. She’d spend the rest of the day fighting enough of their collective pasts. She didn’t need to add speculations about the present or future as well.
*
“Ms. Taylor?”
Annabelle looked away from the bookstore patio for the first time in she didn’t know how long. She must have zoned out. When her realtor had suggested they meet here, she’d thought it might be a fitting test for her return to the city, but now she wished she’d started with a smaller step. She didn’t want to spend the first day of her new life reliving the worst day of her old one, but it was too late. Her chest constricted, her stomach seized up, and tears threatened as all the memories rushed back. At least she hadn’t fainted. That had to count as some sort of progress.
“Ms. Taylor, I’m Cassandra Riggins, your realtor.” She extended her hand, flashing French-tipped nails.
“Right, hello.” She tried to smile, but it was more important to breathe. “Sorry, I was just a little distracted.”
“I bet.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s hard to focus in this heat.” The realtor smiled politely. She was attractively polished. Her pantsuit looked custom-made to show off her curves, and her blond hair was professionally highlighted a shade brassier than Annabelle’s natural color. This woman clearly paid attention to fashion trends, and with great results, but instead of inspiring any genuine appeal, her appearance only made Annabelle feel more out of place in her cotton skirt and pink scoop-neck blouse. Since arriving yesterday she felt more like country-come-to-town than an independent woman.
“Right. The heat.” The weather, such a perfectly normal excuse for being lost in thought. It sounded more reasonable than explaining her distraction stemmed from standing in the spot where the love of her life had shattered her hopes and dreams.
“Shall we go find you an apartment with an air-conditioner then?”
“Please.”
As they walked down Market Street, she tried to orient herself to her surroundings. Outside of that one intersection, she had no ties to this or any other part of the city. She’d chosen the area only because it was close to the school where she’d be teaching. She wondered for about the hundredth time if she remembered how to teach but pushed the thought quickly from her mind. One step at a time.
“How many places do we have to look at today?”
“Unfortunately, only two. This is a popular neighborhood. There’s not a lot in the price range you mentioned on the phone.”
It had been a long time since she’d had to worry about finances, and in all honesty her nest egg was well padded after selling the house, but she didn’t want to live off Nic’s guilt money. She needed to see if she could really make it on her own, and that meant living within her means as a schoolteacher. At least it was a private-school salary, or she wouldn’t bother looking in this neighborhood at all. “That’s okay. I know it’ll be hard. I’m getting used to that, but I do appreciate you meeting with me today.”
“It’s not every day I get a call from a Fortune 500 business consultant asking me to find an apartment for his goddaughter.”
Annabelle’s face flushed. She’d suspected that someone had pulled some strings for a professional of Cassandra’s caliber to look at low-end rentals with her. She’d asked her father to stay out of the process, but apparently he hadn’t listened or he felt having someone else do the work absolved him from direct involvement. “I’m sorry. A friend of the family gave me your number, but I didn’t know he’d called. You don’t owe me any favors. I won’t tell him if you’d rather spend your time elsewhere.”
“Don’t be silly. Networking makes the world go round. I owed him a favor, and now he owes me one. Debts are currency around here,” she said as she walked around the back of a condo complex. The place wasn’t extravagant, a little dated, but it didn’t look too bad. She could certainly do worse than one of the sand-colored units, but they walked right past them toward what looked like an old garage. “This is the first place.”
“The shed?”
“It’s got a bathroom, so technically it’s an apartment.”
“Okay.” She tried to keep an open mind. Well, as open a mind as one can have in a shed.
“It’s not much, but it’s cheap and close to your school.”
The space was small and dirty, but she could clean. She’d have room for her bed and a dresser, maybe a small table in one corner. Her eyes fell on the kitchen, or kitchenette. No, even that term was too generous. There was a sink and a glorified set of Bunsen burners with an “oven” smaller than her microwave.
Cassandra hadn’t done more than step through the doorway, as if she couldn’t bring herself to fully enter such a hovel. “It’s probably not what you’re used to.”
“No.” Annabelle shook her head. “But what I’m used to isn’t what I need now. It’s close enough to walk to work, which is important because I’m not used to driving in the city.”
“It’s awfully run-down,” Cass said.
“I have time to clean.”
“It’s not very big.”
“Maybe a smaller place could feel cozier, less lonely.” She tried hard to talk herself into this place, but why did it feel like her realtor was trying to talk her out of it? Shouldn’t it work the other way around? “I’m starting over again, or maybe for the first time. I’ve never lived alone. I’m not at all sure what I’ll require. I would’ve liked a passable kitchen, but maybe this will inspire me to get creative.”
“You like to cook?”
“I used to. I just—it’s been a long couple of months.” She smiled in a way she hoped didn’t show the sadness she felt. “But I hope to get back to some sense of normalcy again someday, and that involves cooking.”
Cassandra looked slightly embarrassed. Maybe she’d got
ten too personal. “Sounds like someone put you through the wringer.”
She clamped down on the emotions threatening to rise in her. “I…I don’t want to go into it, really. I have to move on somehow, just for me now. As soon as I figure out who I am without her.”
Cassandra looked her up and down one time. She exhaled forcefully, then muttered, “You two are killing me.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Come on.” She walked out of the shed and back up Tenth Street while Annabelle tried to keep up. Tension welled in her again as they neared the bookstore, but thankfully they turned down Myrtle a block before the intersection she dreaded. Mature trees lined the street, shading well-kept, single-family homes with pristine yards. Clearly she couldn’t afford this neighborhood, but Cassandra walked purposely up the driveway of an adorable bungalow and down a stepping-stone path. “It’s another garage, but I think you’ll find that’s all it has in common with the last one.”
She led her up a set of freshly painted wood stairs and let them into a loft above the two bay doors. Annabelle stopped in the doorway, almost afraid to go in. The studio was too beautiful for her price range. The space was small, probably no bigger than the shed, but the large windows and bamboo floors made it feel bigger. The kitchen space ran along the entire length of one side wall, with a full-size gas range, a built-in microwave, and a large, stainless-steel fridge and matching sink, reminding her of the only space in her old house she’d ever really loved. Well, she’d loved the bedroom at one point, too, but that wasn’t because of the room as much as the love it’d once held. She forced her attention back to the task of this moment.
The space was sparse, but clean, and Annabelle began decorating in her mind. She’d put her small love seat against the front wall and a throw rug in front to create the sense of a living space, then a small table with two chairs. She’d only need one, of course, except for when Liz came to visit. She’d put her bed by the back window. She walked in to look out at the view. The immediate surroundings weren’t impressive, just some more apartments and store rooftops, but beyond them the sun would set between city high-rises, providing a nice image in the evening, serving as a reminder that there was life out there beyond what she’d previously imagined for herself.
Cassandra stepped up beside her, seeming to look at something specific. Her brow furrowed as she inspected an apartment across the wooden fence a few doors down, but before Annabelle could examine it further, her professional demeanor returned. “So, what do you think of the apartment?”
“It’s amazing.” Annabelle stopped short of gushing because something still didn’t feel right. “I’m not sure why you bothered to show me the other if this is the competition.”
“To be honest, this isn’t the one I intended to show you. The other place in your price range is considerably worse than the first.”
Annabelle’s hopes dropped what little distance she’d let them rise. “So this one isn’t in my budget?” She supposed that was a good ploy. Show the customer what they were missing to make the contrast all the more clear, maybe push them out of their comfort zone.
“No, at its current price you couldn’t afford it on your own.”
“Thank you then, but if you’re implying I pull from a little of my family’s money, I guess I’ll take the shed.”
Cassandra flashed a genuine smile filled with a mix of amusement and admiration. “What I meant to say was, ‘It’s not in your price range now, but by the time I talk to the owner it will be.’ She enjoys my…company, and it won’t be unpleasant to even up the price if I also forgo my commission.”
“Why would you do that?” Annabelle asked, guarded. “You don’t know me, and surely you aren’t that indebted to a business associate.”
“No, but remember what I said about debts being currency here. I owe a big one to someone else.”
“And now I’ll owe you one, too?”
Cass smiled again, this time with more sympathy. “No, you’ve paid enough of yours. All I ask from you is to never tell anyone around here about this conversation.”
“Who would I tell?”
She looked out the window again, back toward the same apartment, the same look of concern crossing her stunning features. She seemed more real when she let down her guard, and Annabelle actually worried she wasn’t more attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be turned on by the softer side of such a classically beautiful woman? Had her capacity for feeling those types of connections died completely?
“You never know where life in this city might lead you. It’s a smaller community than you can imagine.”
“I’ll take your word, and I’ll take the apartment if you’ll accept my sincere gratitude in return.”
Cass waved her off casually, her cool façade returning, but Annabelle sensed that under her flawless exterior she was pleased with the compliment. “I’ll have a courier run the papers by your hotel. If you can pay first and last month’s rent in cash, you can move in this weekend.”
“Thank you,” Annabelle said as she rushed to keep up as they exited the apartment.
“It’s just business from here on out. Do you need a ride somewhere?”
“No, I walked from my hotel.”
“Would you like me to walk you back?”
The request seemed odd from a woman who’d just asserted their relationship was purely business related, but as they neared the spot where they’d met, Annabelle considered taking her up on the offer. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
Cassandra stopped and turned to offer her hand one more time, along with a smile. “I do believe you will be.”
Annabelle liked this woman and her confidence. She pulled a little strength from her and used the positive energy to walk right past the bookstore without giving in to the crushing weight of emotions. She was moving forward, and she intended to keep doing so, no matter how hard she had to work.
*
Nic stood in her boss’s doorway, quietly admiring his view of the expansive Atlanta skyline. Over a week had passed since their last meeting, and she had no idea why he’d summoned her today. Nothing on her schedule should require his direct attention, and as far as she knew, he had no idea about the changes in her personal life. She worked hard to keep her split from Belle and subsequent loneliness private, both out of sadness and embarrassment. She might be a mess on the inside, but on paper she continued to perform at her usual level. She hadn’t missed an objective or muffed any other meetings, but Joe Clarke wasn’t the kind of man who called someone in just to chat.
“Nic.” He motioned for her to take a seat, then closed the door. “I’m sure you know there’s a vice-president slot opening up out of the Athens office.”
“Yes, sir,” she said as evenly as possible, and tried to use her suit coat to cover the way her dress shirt gapped a little over her stomach now.
“You were in the running up until a few months ago.”
Her heart sank at his use of the past tense, but she wouldn’t let those emotions show. “I’m honored to have been considered.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem. When you first came up, you would’ve been livid you didn’t get it.”
“I’m sorry, sir?”
“You’re getting by, Nic. You’re one of my top salesmen, er, salespeople.”
She wished he’d stuck to the male term rather than remind himself she was somehow different from the rest of his boys. Those little separations only kept her on the outside of an elite group.
“The thing is, when I hired you, you wanted to be the absolute best.”
“I still do,” she said, but instead of looking at him, she glanced down at the rich maroon carpet.
“I don’t see that. You haven’t dropped the ball, but more and more you’re happy with a first down when you used to run for the end zone every play.”
“I don’t mean to give you that impression. It’s certainly not how I feel.”
“I know you and your lady friend had some issues.”
He adjusted his position in his big leather chair and straightened his Georgia Bulldog tie as if uncomfortable with the topic. “And I’m sorry. She seemed like a good girl.”
Nic’s face heated rapidly. What did he know, and how did he know it? Why did he care? Had she lost out on the promotion because of her personal life? Shame and anger rushed to the surface in frightening proportions. Suddenly she felt fifteen again and that she didn’t measure up to her old man. She held her tongue now, just like she had then, but it was harder than ever before.
“We’ve all been there. Most of us are on marriage number two, and some of us on three.” He twisted the gold band on his ring finger and sighed. “It’s not something we’re proud of, but it’s par for the course, an occupational hazard.”
At least he wasn’t hypocritical, but she interlaced her fingers, knuckles turning white at the thought of the damage she’d done as something that just happens in this world. Failed relationships were one part of his boys’ club she wasn’t proud to share.
“You’re better off than most since you don’t have to worry about kids.”
From his standpoint that was one less complication, but maybe parenthood would’ve helped her get her priorities in order. Then again, given how she’d failed Annabelle, she had no reason to think she could’ve done better with a baby. Only Belle had ever believed she’d make a good parent, but she’d also thought she made a good spouse.
“Anyway.” He seemed to snap out of his pensiveness and started to sift through a stack of papers on his desk as he shifted back to business. “We’re promoting Vince to VP out of Athens, but I want you to see the silver lining.”
Her chest ached. The promotion was gone, along with Belle and Davis. The only upside she saw was the job hadn’t gone to Wade.
“Athens is too complicated for you, and the next promotion will come out of the home office here in Atlanta. It’s a better fit, and it’ll give you time to try to get the fire back.”
Does She Love You? Page 17