“And how exactly is she going about convincing you?”
“Relax,” her husband said, smiling, “she’s harmless.” Max wasn’t entirely sure if that was true now that he thought about it, but it was better to say it than not. He checked his watch.
“Look, I really have to get going,” he said. “But I love that I got to see you, babe. You too, Katie.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?” Katie asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Actually, you’re right,” Max replied. “At least up in Liverpool I don’t have to listen to endless speeches about saving the fucking whales.”
“I’m sure the whales feel the same way about you, Max.”
“Wait a minute,” Danielle said. “I want to meet her.”
“Who?” Max asked.
With her eyes, and only her eyes, she indicated Emily.
Max signaled Emily to come over, took a deep breath and made the introductions: first Katie and then Danielle.
“I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you,” Emily told Danielle.
“And I’ve heard that you are taking very good care of my Max up in Liverpool,” was Danielle’s reply.
“Well, he’s a great boss to work for and I’m such a huge fan of his.”
“I’m just glad he’s in good hands. I hope he’s not being too much of a bother.”
“Oh, no; he’s wonderful, certainly nothing I can’t manage.”
“That’s a relief; he can be a handful at times.”
“So far the contestants are getting the worst of it.” Emily paused a moment to smile. “To me he’s been nothing but sweet.”
Danielle returned the smile.
“That’s great,” she said. “If he ever acts up, though, be sure to let me know and I’ll punish him when he returns home…you know, to me.”
“Tempus fugit, ladies,” Max said, feeling like a Jedi sensing a disturbance in the Force.
Emily stuck out her hand.
“It was wonderful meeting you,” Emily said, shaking Danielle’s hand. “And I know this sucks but I’m afraid I do have to steal your Max away.” She grinned. “We have such a tight schedule this weekend because we’re actually filming two episodes tomorrow so unfortunately it’s back on the helicopter for us.”
Danielle smiled sweetly.
“It was wonderful meeting you,” she insisted. “And it was so nice of the BBC to allow Max to see us for a few moments.
“I only wish I could give you two more time together,” Emily said. “I know Max misses you terribly. Perhaps you’ll consider coming up to Liverpool for a visit?”
“If only I could,” Danielle said with regret, “I was hoping to, of course, but there’s just no way I can get away from the office; there’s just too much to do when you’re president of a major bank.”
“That’s too bad. Well, I hope I get to meet you again.”
“Me too…have a safe trip back.”
Emily told Max she’d wait for him outside. The novelist hugged and then kissed Danielle.
“I am sorry about having to leave so soon,” he told her.
“Well, you’re back in six days so it won’t be too long. Besides, I really am very busy at the office so I know that on my end at least the time will just fly by.”
“You know, it’s quite fascinating how the show is all put together, I know you’d get a kick outta seeing it done. Are you sure you can’t take at least one day off to come to Liverpool?”
Danielle was gravely shaking her head.
“Sweetie, it’s impossible. There are a zillion things to do at work. Katie can attest to how frazzled I’ve been, especially with Mom and all her drama.”
Max shrugged.
“Alright,” he muttered, “fair enough. I know the world’s money markets can’t survive long without you.” He kissed her again.
She watched Max say his goodbyes to Katie and Arlene and then he left the store, Emily following like a devoted courtesan. As soon as she was sure he was gone she took out her mobile and dialed a number.
“Sally, it’s me. Look, I’m sorry to cut into your weekend but I need you to meet me at the office tomorrow morning, let’s say at ten. I’ll bring coffee and bagels. There’s been a sudden change of plans; as it turns out I’m flying to Liverpool on Tuesday.”
Chapter 15
Tuesday—London
Katie’s subconscious swore it was too early to do so but after years of responding to the beeping of a bedside alarm clock it began waking Katie up nonetheless, out of habit. When Katie’s brain had surfaced adequately enough from the depths of sleep the puzzled woman rolled over and stared at the clock.
“What the fuck?” she slurred. It was the ungodly hour of 2 a.m.
“What the fuck?” she repeated louder.
“I’m sorry, honey, go back to sleep.” That was Danielle’s voice Katie heard from the darkness of the room. Katie groggily propped herself up on one elbow.
“Danielle? What the fuck? Is everything alright?”
“Fine. I’m just getting ready to leave.”
“Leave?” It took a moment because her brain was still a bit fuzzy but then she exclaimed, “For Liverpool? I didn’t realize you were leaving so early!”
“My flight is at three-thirty.” The bathroom light came on causing Katie to squint. She saw Danielle begin briskly brushing her hair at the sink.
“Who the hell flies to Liverpool at three-thirty?”
Danielle answered, “I want to get to his room before he wakes up. You know, surprise him.”
Katie sat up fully, switching on the bedside lamp.
“Are you joking?” she asked in all seriousness. “You’re honestly going to wake Max Bland up from a sound sleep just to surprise him? Danielle, under those circumstances he’s likely to have a stroke he’ll be so pissed at you.”
“I know,” Danielle briefly paused in her application of eyeliner. “But I just have to do this.”
“Why?” Katie asked, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Suddenly she gasped as an idea came to her. She stared at her wife in astonishment when Danielle came out of the bathroom, sat on the bed and began pulling on socks.
“You think Max is cheating on you?” Katie whispered. “And you’re hoping to catch him in bed with what’s-her-name?”
“Emily.”
“Danielle, don’t be ridiculous! He would never do that, not in a million years!” Max may drive her crazy and be a master at getting under her skin but Katie knew, as well as she knew anything, that the depths of his love for Danielle would prevent him from doing something so callous; that and the fact that he barely had patience enough to be romantically involved with one woman let alone multiple women.
Danielle heaved a sigh and actually slumped, evidence to Katie of how much this has been bothering her since meeting Emily the other day.
Danielle said, “Baby, I believe you, I really do, but I need to see it and not just know it. Besides, I don’t trust that perky little assistant of his one bit.”
“Actually, Danielle…” Katie began, remembering the message in Emily’s eyes as they shook hands, “I think she might be gay…”
“She’s not gay, she’s bi,” Danielle responded pulling on her jeans. “I saw the way she looked at you but I also saw how she looked at Max. She’d fuck either of you in a heartbeat but you’re not the one alone with her up in Liverpool.”
Danielle slid on her boots.
“Anyway, I don’t trust her. Something about her rattled me when I met her. She was putting out this vibe, like she was trying to tell me that stealing Max away would be but the work of a moment. Anyway, I want to make a surprise visit up there just to show her that when she thinks I’m hundreds of miles away I could in fact show up unannounced. It should give her pause over the next few days until Max is safely back in London. In fact, it should give him pause as well. It’ll serve me well to keep him on his toes.”
“Whatever,” Katie said, getting back under the covers and preparing
to go back to sleep. But then she thought of something and sat back up.
“Wait a minute,” she started, “do you feel a need to keep me on my toes as well?”
“Of course I do,” Danielle said matter-of-factly. “I see the way other women flirt with you.” She bent down and kissed Katie’s forehead. “Look, I know you never would but I have to make sure you’re aware I’m watching, right?”
“So all those times you’ve surprised me by bringing lunch to my office…”
“…was just my way of letting anyone there who has designs on being the future Mrs. Katie Shaw know that the real Mrs. Katie Shaw can pop up at any time.”
Rolling her eyes, Katie ducked back under the covers.
“Whatever.”
***
Thumpthumpthump! Thumpthump! Thumpthumpthump!
Surely that couldn’t be the door, Max thought, buried snugly under the comforters on his bed. Impossible. Far too early. Even without opening his eyes and looking at the clock he knew it was far too early for anyone to be banging on his door. It just didn’t make sense.
Thumpthumpthump! Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump!
Perhaps there was a fire, he thought. Perhaps it was the fire marshal trying to rouse him. Well, screw that, Max decided. Being burned alive, he determined, would at least rescue him from this wretched existence in which individuals with no common sense whatsoever banged on the doors of peacefully slumbering folks at the ungodly time of…he took a peek at the digital clock on the nightstand.
Jesus fucking Christ! 6:17 a.m.!
Max angrily kicked off the covers, stood up and began marching toward the front of the suite.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he growled.
He was halfway to the accursed door when he realized he was completely nude and had to turn around.
Thumpthumpthump!
“Hey! Keep your goddam shirt on!” he called over his shoulder.
He put on the luxuriant Royal Liverpool robe hanging in the bathroom, cinched it closed and was finally able to stop the infernal knocking by opening the suite’s door.
It was Emily. She rushed in without being invited.
“Thank God! I was afraid you weren’t here!”
“And where else would I be, Emily?”
“We have a problem, sir.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s 6:17 in the fucking morning.”
“I’m sorry to wake you up like this; I did try calling but your calls are all being diverted.”
“Yes, oddly enough I did that so no one would wake me at 6:17 in the fucking morning. Now I gotta figure out a way to get the door diverted as well. What do you want, Emily?”
“It’s one of the contestants, sir; Brent, the sales clerk,” Emily began nervously. “He’s threatening to commit suicide; he somehow managed to climb to the top of the radio tower on campus and he’s threatening to jump.”
“Right. Well, tell him to enjoy his flight and I’ll see him later in Hell. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going back to bed.” And he was moving off in that direction when Emily grabbed his arm beseechingly.
“Max, no, listen,” she implored. “We need you to come down there. Please? He’ll only talk to you, apparently. He’s saying that all his life he’s wanted to be a novelist and he’s sure you’re going to cut him in the next elimination because his last story was crap and because of that there’s no reason left to live.”
“Fine, so let him jump.”
“Max!”
“No, I’m serious, let the psycho jump. One less nutjob in the world is better for everyone.”
“Sir, please!”
“What do you expect me to do, huh?”
“I don’t know,” Emily confessed, “but the police say he’ll only talk to you. He says you’re his role model.”
“Ha! Now I know he should jump! All the great people in history and I’m his role model? What an idiot.” Again he moved towards the bedroom.
“Sir, please!” Emily blocked his path.
Thumpthumpthump!
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Max swore at this new barrage of banging on his door. “I bet I can guess who that is.” He yelled out, “Hold your horses, Janice, I’ll be right there!”
“Max? It’s me, sweetie.”
Max’s jaw dropped. That was Danielle’s voice. He and Emily shared a surprised look and then Max said, more to himself than to his assistant, “She’s a day early.”
“You were expecting her?” Emily asked in a whisper. “I thought she said she couldn’t make it to Liverpool.”
“Hold on a sec, babe!” Max called toward the door; then to Emily he explained quickly, “Yeah, that’s what she said but I knew she’d pull a stunt like this; problem is my guess of when she’d come was off by a day; the fucking planets must be outta alignment or something. Look, I need you to hide. Now.”
“But…”
“Don’t bother me with ‘buts’, Emily, I need you to hide. The person on the other side of that door may look and sound like a rational person but trust me, she isn’t. It doesn’t matter if you’re here for a perfectly legitimate reason; if Danielle sees you in my room at this hour she’s gonna start imagining all sorts of horrible things and then I’ll be the one contemplating suicide.”
Without another word he took Emily’s arm firmly and ushered his pretty assistant into the suite’s office, all but threw her inside the closet near the desk and then made a beeline for the door.
“Surprise!” Danielle threw her arms around Max’s neck and kissed him deeply.
“Wow! This is a surprise, honey. I never expected this. What are you doing here?”
“I missed you too much,” Danielle said, “so I juggled some things at the bank and here I am.” Max noticed that as she spoke she kept glancing over his shoulder surveying the area beyond.
“Yeah, here you are,” said Max. “But unfortunately you’ve come at a really bad time.”
A flicker of suspicion darkened her features but only for the merest of moments. Max, however, caught it and decided he had no choice but to let her come all the way in; he just hoped Emily knew enough to stay still and stay quiet.
“Oh? Why is this a bad time?” Danielle asked, tossing her small travel bag on the couch. She did another quick survey of the surroundings, obviously looking for anything even remotely feminine. “Wow, they’ve got you up on the posh floor, haven’t they?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Look, I’d show you around but the truth is I was just on my way out.”
Danielle fixed him with a stare.
“You? Out?” She made a show of checking her watch though she knew perfectly well what time it was. “At this hour?”
“I know,” Max said. “It’s weird but, you see…” and he proceeded to tell her about Brent, the radio tower and a long fall to the pavement below it, claiming that Emily had just called him with the news. Danielle was stunned.
“Jesus, Max! I leave you alone for ten days and you drive somebody to suicide!” she exclaimed.
Max was nodding.
“Yeah, I know, this beats my previous record. So you understand why this is a bad time.”
“Well, what are you standing here for? Go get dressed,” Danielle ordered.
“I will, I will, but can you do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“You know my brain has trouble functioning at the crack of dawn. Could you go downstairs to the hotel’s restaurant and order me the biggest cup of coffee they got? While you’re doing that I’ll get dressed and then I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Absolutely,” Danielle said, moving toward the door, “but for God’s sake hurry up, Max. Unbelievable.”
Max made sure the suite’s door shut tight behind Danielle and then rescued Emily from the closet.
“Good job,” he commended her. “You were as quiet as a church mouse.”
“I’ll admit I’ve done this before,” she said.
“You can tell me that story some other time.” Max
took a deep breath. “Alright, I’m gonna get dressed and meet her downstairs,” he continued. “After I walk out you wait ten minutes and then you can leave. If you and Danielle happen to speak later I told her that you called me on the phone to tell me about Brent. Just so our stories are straight.”
Emily smiled and said, “Sounds like you’ve done this before, too.”
“The characters in my novels have,” Max rejoined. “Sexual infidelity makes for better reading.”
***
Max and Danielle were driven to the campus by Max’s BBC driver. As early as it was Brent’s threatened suicide had already drawn quite a crowd, many of whom were holding up their camera-equipped mobiles. When the car stopped after being let through the police barricades Danielle took hold of Max’s arm, restraining him just as he was about to open the door.
“Max, you realize this is serious, right?” she asked, staring hard at him. “You can’t be…well, you can’t be your normal self.”
“Yeah? Watch me.” And he pulled away and got out of the car. Instantly a constable was at his side.
“You Max Bland?” this keeper of the peace inquired with a lot of Durham in his voice.
“Unfortunately,” Max replied.
“Inspector Fowler, sir; come with me, please.” The constable ushered Max through some more police barricades, past encampments of TV cameras and onto a small lawn in front of the Communications Studies building where the emergency squads had set up three high-powered spotlights all of which were trained upwards to where the figure of Brent could be seen standing in the trellis-work just below the very top of the radio tower which was on the roof of the five-story Communications building.
“And how the hell did he get up there?” Max demanded.
“Cleaning crew, sir,” the constable answered. “They show up at five a.m. to clean this building and they don’t lock the doors behind them. He must’ve snuck in after them.”
“Alright, so what now?” Max inquired.
Fowler signaled for a junior constable who trotted up with a megaphone. Fowler clicked it on, held it to his lips and tilted his head up.
“Mr. Jemmons!” he called, his voice amplified. “This is Inspector Fowler again.”
Two for One-Relatively Speaking (The Two for One series) Page 14