“No problem, Walter! Can you get me back to LA by the weekend?”
“I’ve got to dart back into a meeting. Head over on the first flight you can cram onto.”
Three hours.
That’s how long I have sat in an empty office waiting for Walter to show up and tell me why I flew here last night on the first flight I could cram onto.
No one knows why he called me in. Also, all of the upper ups, VPs, and their secretaries are off at a strategic planning retreat, without access to email, for the rest of the week. Why did he need me here? To be a doorman? There is no one here to open a door for.
Finally, my cell phone lets out a familiar ring. Walter’s small talk flies so quickly it doesn’t even feel like it happens. All that registers is, “You closed more deals yesterday than you realize. BJ Potter was fired last night.”
The VP of Sales?
Last night? While at the retreat?
A hint of a chuckle comes through before Walter speaks. “His chair is getting cold. How about you walk down the hall and warm it?”
Warm it? Does he mean permanently? I can’t form the words to ask, because it seems a boulder has jumped into my throat.
“Agnes will set it all up from here. For now, we will keep her in her position. Of course, once you get settled, we expect you may make changes there.”
BJ’s secretary? This is real!
“Take a walk down the hall, and tell me how that chair looks.”
Holy crap, I’m the new VP of Sales!
In a flash, I’m down the hall and standing in front of a wood door I have strolled through hundreds of times, yet now I notice just how big it is.
“Tell me how that chair feels,” Walter says.
My hand springs forth, eager to turn the knob and land my butt in my cushy chair. My fingers grip the knob and—
Locked. The damn door is locked!
“So, um, what do you think, Dale? Is it a good fit?”
I rattle the door with hurricane force. Let me in!
Somehow I manage to keep my voice calm. “Can’t tell ya, Walter. The door is locked.”
“Locked? Dammit, I thought the janitor said he took care of that.” Walter snarfs. “Ah well, BJ hasn’t even cleaned it out yet, so I guess we should give the guy a day. What matters is you saying yes.”
I stand in the hall, head flicking back and forth, waiting for someone to magically appear with a key and show me this is real. Not a soul is to be found. Everyone is at the retreat.
“Okay,” he says. “I see what you are doing by staying quiet. You are figuring out the best way to pack and all that jazz. I’ve given Agnes the green light to hire movers and get everything going for you. You don’t need to lift a finger other than the ones it takes to hand over your house key.”
My key? “You mean, don’t go home?” That means moving without seeing my friends again. I can’t imagine not celebrating my victory in Mulligan’s let alone …
Jennifer said, “You will know you found everything once you have been guided through the right door.” This is what she meant. It’s all right here! No wonder why I never found the woman I seek back home. She doesn’t live in Los Angeles, so she must be here in Chicago. The key to everything I have ever wanted lies behind that door!
“Riiight,” Walter says. “You said you need to be home by the weekend. Good old, strategic Dale. You must have seen this offer coming. Okay then, think you could be settled enough to start next week?”
I rattle the doorknob. For the love of God, please open! I’m due a promotion, but this exceeds hopes, let alone expectations. A killer salary, a company car, an expense account beyond my dreams. Hell yes, I can be settled by next week!
“Chicago, here I come!” starts bounding out of me, but I halt when my head starts screaming, “Can it! Quick offers are meant to toss you off your game, and this one is hitting hard and fast. Get your head on and strategize!”
“Don’t worry,” Walter continues, “the offer packet is top notch. We are bringing you in at the same deal BJ worked himself up to. We know you will knock this out of the park.”
The same deal? BJ made double what I do, and that’s not counting bonuses based on what the team does. I’d be set.
Again I start to respond but slam on the brakes. This is too easy. After all, I am a salesman and thus expected to work a deal. Jumping now would be foolhardy. “Sounds great, Walter. Why don’t you email that packet on over so I can take a look? I need to tie up some loose ends before I can commit.”
Walter chuckles. “Nice and cool, eh? You make it sound like I offered to do your laundry. This is why you are the best choice we had. Take a day to make ‘em sweat.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “Hey, the only wiggle room we have is for another percent on commission, but don’t push it.”
My snicker conveys I am caught playing the game. I also know if he is letting that slip, he doesn’t want me to keep them hanging. I can milk this. “All right. I’ll make them sweat into negotiating up one percent. Thanks, man.”
I pause just long enough to know we are disconnected before yelling, “Yahoo!” This is what I have sacrificed so much for. I’ve got a zillion things to do, but first I want in this office!
I run around until I find an IT guy who calls janitorial for me, then race back and wait, impatiently rapping my fingers on my leg as my head spins.
“I’m the new VP of Sales!”
Finally, a guy in deep olive coveralls that have seen better days arrives, flipping through his key ring. “Sorry,” he says. “The other guy swears he unlocked it.”
Whatever. I don’t care why it was closed. Just let me in!
The janitor unlocks the door, and I bolt for the light switch. The second the place lights up, my heart threatens to stop.
The janitor unlocked this room all right. Then someone locked me out.
Dead in the middle of the desk sit a teal feather and a crystal globe paperweight. Slowly I approach, my brain not quite processing what feels to be a message. BJ’s things are still here as evidence by an iPod, headphones, and a copy of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None, but the lingering smell of lime and musk confirm the feather didn’t come from him.
On impulse, I place the feather on top of the globe, ensuring it is balanced and my breath is still before allowing my hand to slide away. The feather sits perfectly on top of the world. With lightened lungs, I plop into my big, fat cushy chair and take in my office—my spacious beauty with a walnut desk set including a matching credenza and file cabinets that add luxury to a windowless world with walls of grey.
Undecorated walls in a room BJ has repeatedly said he spends more time in than his house.
With a jolt, I bolt upright, place the feather on the desk, and slam the weight of the world on top of it before heading back to the hotel.
Thanks For The Memory
BAILEY
My chest tightens as I drive into my neighborhood. I am so close to pulling off my caper without a hitch, the moment seems unreal. All that remains is to slip in, grab a few things from the apartment along with my bags from Mrs. Grady’s storage, and then finish at work before heading to the airport. I can’t believe I am almost done with this madness.
Pulling into the parking lot for the last time brings back memories of the day I first arrived. My every possession fit inside two suitcases. Now I have shipped out box after box, and the place still seems full. While I am leaving on the sly for all of the right reasons, it is not any less deceitful than what Carlos is doing to me. I’m not sure how I feel about my actions.
Less than an hour ago, I called Carlos under the guise of asking what we needed from the grocery store. I was thankful when a TV and ambient bar noise came over the line, confirming he wasn’t home. Even though I’ve reached the point where Carlos can’t do a thing to stop me, I’d rather not face him.
I head around the back, park next to Mrs. Grady’s storage space to retrieve my suitcases, and put them into the trunk. Now I o
nly need to grab the few things inside I couldn’t sneak out before.
Tension has my eyes alternating between circling the complex on the lookout for trouble, and on Carlos’s empty parking space that sits below our living room window. Once I reach the stairs, my footing lightens. My mindset is that of a prowler: slip in, grab fast, and whip out before anything has a chance to slow me down. If I’ve learned anything while working on a set, it is murders are foiled when the killer takes her sweet time, usually for the sake of vanity. I may only be killing my old life, but I’m not taking any chances.
Then again, entering the apartment for a few more things is taking a chance. What if Carlos is on to me and has an ambush waiting? What if not attempting to take the last of my things while he slept this morning backfires?
Oh, so what if he catches me? His only recourse now would be to tie me to a chair. It’s not like anything else could stop me.
Once inside, I head straight for the bedroom closet and grab my overnight bag, ready to take as much as will fit inside. My eyes circle the room. Seeing its naked, freshly-painted walls reminds me how decorating this home was like creating my own world. Why does this chapter in my life have to end in a game? Could I not have found another way?
No, because I didn’t trust Carlos not to sell my stuff once he heard he was losing his sugar mama. My leaving behind a few memories and a couple hundred dollars in toiletries, frying pans, and grubby clothes is nothing compared to the thousands I could have lost in vintage attire and collectables.
But if I am doing the right thing, why is remorse cutting into my heart? Would Carlos really have sold me out? He might be a moocher but…
Maybe I have underestimated him.
Seeing Carlos’s wallet on his dresser reminds me remorse is ridiculous. How many times has he “forgotten” his wallet, only to have someone else pick up the check? Carlos takes everything he can, yet I was willing to make sure Mrs. Grady is covered financially, even if he stiffs her on the rent. There is a big difference there. Slipping out on him might not be right, but it certainly isn’t wrong.
It is time to be free of this mess and move on.
I take a few more things from the bedroom, making sure to grab my jewelry box. Although I shipped most of my jewelry to Darla, I kept some here. If I went too long without wearing any, Carlos definitely would have known something was up.
After giving the place a once over, I reach for the only thing of value left. Longing fills my heart as I smile at the photo of GranGran, Darla, and me. Seeing love in GranGran’s eyes brings tears to mine. “Okay, GranGran. I’m ready to go home. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. I don’t feel good about my actions.”
The sudden sound of Carlos’s key jamming into the front door nearly jolts me out of my skin. Dammit! What is he doing home?
I’m inclined to hide the suitcase, but bigger things race through my mind. I want to scream at Carlos for not taking one of those job offers. I want to call him out on being a mooching womanizer. But what is foremost on my mind is how he took me for granted, and in doing that, he hurt us. We once had something special. He was someone special.
I feel robbed. I’ve come to face a lot with Carlos—everything but the pain of losing what we had. I miss the person he was, and I want the kind of happiness we had back. If he hadn’t turned into someone else, we may have made it.
When I step into the hallway, Carlos jolts, and his hand flies up. “Whoa! Bailey! Honey, you scared me. What are you doing home?”
“Sorry, I forgot a few things.” My voice reeks with pain over our situation.
“No—no problem.” His eyes glance toward the window.
“Everything, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, fine. Bob’s outside. I left my wallet around here somewhere. I just needed to pop in for it.”
My eyes go to the ground. Where do I start? I need more time to think. “I saw your wallet in the bedroom. I’ll grab it for you.”
I walk down the hall feeling lost and confused. Inside the bedroom, seeing my overnight bag tugs at my heart. So many wonderful memories are housed within these walls. The joy never needed to end.
I stare at the wallet, knowing it contains credit and bank cards I plan to cancel as soon as I land in LA. Do I really need to leave Carlos high and dry? I don’t want to be a fool, but I do believe in being a good person and putting basic human kindness first. Now that everything is packed and ready to go, it is too late for him to stop me. His showing up is a gift, because now I have a chance to make this right.
With firm resolve, I grab the wallet and head towards Carlos. As much as I feel I should hold onto it until he listens, I hand it over. Whatever happens next is up to him. “Can we please talk a moment?”
The stiffening of his back is subtle. “Now?” His gaze returns to the window. “Baby, Bob is waiting. Can’t we talk tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Why not now? Or even tonight?” Come on, Carlos. Do the right thing. Show me who you really are.
“Bob and I are meeting with the guys. It’s probably going to be a late night.”
My tone is soft and my words genuine. I’m giving him a second chance to return to the beautiful person he once was. “It’s been a long time since either of us said we love the other. Carlos, you and I … we’ve been a wreck for a long time. Maybe if we remember who we were when we started, we can get back what is important.”
His eyebrows knit, and his lips drop open. “What are you saying?” His tone of concern reminds me of the man I fell for. I want that man to return, not for me, but for himself.
“I need you to leave tonight. If you move out and rebuild, we can both keep our dignity.”
His shoulders dip and he loses all sense of concern. Now, he just looks annoyed. “Dignity? Girl, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying we need to get on with our lives, and I am ready to thrive. I want that for you, too.”
His features toughen. Although I got a glimpse of the old Carlos moments ago, the man I fell for is long gone and replaced by the guy who is now smirking.
“Please, Carlos. Take your things and go. I’ll help you. I’ll even pay for a moving van.”
He wraps his arm around me, and I resist the urge to fight him off. I don’t believe for a second this will go well, but I am hearing him out, just in case I am wrong about him. If he fails now, it won’t be because I didn’t give him every chance.
“No way, baby,” he says in his smooth, player voice. “You and I, we got something special, and I am not letting it go.” With words like that, you’d think he would kiss me tenderly. Instead he squeezes my ass with one hand and taps my chin with the other. “Later, baby. Keep that bed warm for me.”
And off he goes, closing the door behind him like he owns the world. If I still loved him, I would be heartbroken. Instead, I am relieved to have closure. I genuinely gave him a chance.
I turn to grab my bag and get out of here. From outside, a female voice comes through the window. “Did you get it?”
Is she talking to Carlos? I shake my head in resignation. Unless Bob had a sex change, Carlos was lying to me, again.
Outside the window, I am not the least bit surprised to find a well-built blonde of about twenty, if that, standing next to Carlos’s car. Her skirt is so short and tight, I can tell she is either wearing a thong or going commando.
Carlos is out of my sight, but I hear his feet rumbling down the stairs, along with him saying, “Shh!” When he reaches her, he mutters something in her ear.
“Because I want to go back to The Nexus,” she says insistently, “and I treated the last two times.”
I snicker. Yeah, that sounds about right. Get used to it, honey. Ten bucks says he is gonna snow you into paying anyway.
“Will you please get in the car!” he says through his teeth while hushing her.
She turns to get in, and smatterings of red light blink off of her chest. My heart pounds. Is that—
No. It can’t be!
I
squint and—
That’s the brooch from my missing set! That bastard stole it from me and gave it to her!
Not only was I right all along that he would rip me off, he was already stealing from me before I planned to leave. If I had been straightforward about moving instead of giving him the slip, Lord only knows what else he would have nabbed.
Come to think of it, I never did find the rose gold inlaid bracelet that went missing at the same time. Thank God I shipped the best stuff off while I had the chance!
I head for the door, ready to chase him down and rip his balls off, but he is out of the driveway before I can cross the threshold.
Now my blood is boiling! I have been far too nice to that bastard!
I no longer feel bad about what I am doing. Not in the least! In fact, Carlos deserves a lot worse!
I head back inside, fuming and wondering if I can get to my car fast enough to track him down and let him have it. My eye is caught by the blue leather case on Carlos’s iPad, that sits among the chestnut sofa cushions. All those women I found on there, along with the dating and hook up services, the mooching, and the twenty-five grand … How did I ever feel sorry for that ass?
Oh, giving him the slip isn’t enough. Carlos will never forget Bailey Kane!
#
A sense of completion overcomes me as I watch my car be driven off by its new owner, and I get into a waiting cab. Two suitcases and a carry on bag sit inside the trunk—the last of the things I am bringing into my new life. A flight tonight, a few hours of sleep in my new home, and come tomorrow morning, I will already be at my new job. Getting into this cab is like flipping a switch in Frankenstein’s lab and animating a new me—one that is composed of many of my old parts and several new ones as well.
Riding off of the studio lot brings bittersweet memories to mind. Through my years here, I have gained so much experience, learned so many tricks of the trade, and absorbed more than I can ever truly process about human nature. I used to think most actors are superficial ladder-climbers who only want you to make them look pretty. People in the film industry are just like all others—some are good, some are bad, and some are resilient to the lure of success while others will do anything for it.
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