It's A Shame

by Hansen, C. E.

  He swallowed quickly and shot me a look that I wasn’t quite able to decipher.

  “I’m serious,” I went on, “The sooner you talk to her the sooner she can leave us—you—alone and go back to Denver.”

  “I don’t know what she wants. I don’t care what she wants, and I sure as hell don’t want to speak with her. I don’t trust her motives. Whatever the reason she is here, you can rest assured that it has to do with money,” he stated evenly as though the matter was closed to discussion. Looking down he opened the paper to the business section and stared at the words. I wasn’t sure he was even reading anything. He looked to be a million miles away.

  “There is one way to find out.” I looked at him, “Ask her.”

  I wanted this woman away from Cole. I didn’t like knowing she was in another state, let alone in the same city as we were. I had a nagging suspicion that she was here to stir up trouble. Jealousy rippled through me as I remembered the exquisitely beautiful woman standing on the other side of my door. Of course the bitch knew her presence here, in New York, and her visit to my apartment would rattle me, and I was one hundred percent sure that was her intent all along.

  I took another sip of my coffee and set the mug down.

  “Do you want me to make you breakfast? Are you hungry?” My question jolted him out of his reverie.

  “No, nothing for me, thank you.” He closed the newspaper and shoved it to the side. “What do you want to do today, this is our day…no more talk about Lauren.” He looked at me with a look that told me the conversation was over, and I tilted my head, raising my brows. “You’re right, I’ll have to deal with her eventually, but not today.” He reached out and grabbed my hand squeezing it gently.

  The weather was unseasonably warm, which was the new norm in New York City. There was no doubt in my mind that spring was surely giving its rights over to summer and will cease to exist some day. Global warming was here, like it or not. But the air crackled with an energy that belonged solely to New York City. There wasn’t anywhere else on the planet that had the draw, pull, spectacle or vitality that could match New York. From the speeding, honking cabs to the shouting street vendors to the throngs of people rushing to be somewhere they weren’t. The odors of food wafting in and out through the multitudes, clinging to them, moving with them, everywhere you looked there was energy.

  The sidewalks were brimming over with mobs of people, tourists and natives alike. I felt the vibration as the subway roared under our feet. I loved this city. I loved everything about it. The beautiful parks, the gritty streets, the hawkers, the street entertainers, I could spend my whole day, and I have many a time, just sitting at a café watching the people file by, my ears lulled by the cacophony of my busy city.

  We started our day at the farmer’s market, where we selected fresh asparagus, fava beans and Chanterelle mushrooms. We bought fresh goat cheese so I could make my herbed goat cheese crostini. We then walked to the meat district and picked out a couple of dry aged sirloin steaks. When we finished our shopping at the meat market, Cole reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his smartphone to call Ray.

  There was one more stop Cole wanted to make, and he leaned in to give Ray instructions as I climbed into the back seat and opened the paneled door shoving our purchases into the small refrigerator located in the bench seat.

  So I was a little surprised when several minutes later we pulled up in front of The Asbury and Cole got out and walked over to where James stood.

  James leaned in as Cole said something to him, nodded, and replied. The two were out of hearing range so I was left with trying to decipher what they were saying by watching their facial expressions through the corners of my eyes. James shook his head emphatically, and Cole took the leather satchel James had been holding. Then hey both walked over to the car.

  “Hello James,” I smiled.

  “It’s good to see you again Miss Preston…Grace,” he corrected himself as he took a step back.

  “Have a lovely day, Grace, Mr. Grayson. I’ll get back to you on that other matter.” He nodded to us both as he stepped up onto the sidewalk.

  We pulled away and I turned to Cole.

  “What was all that?”

  “I was going over a few matters concerning the hotel with James.”

  “Hmmmm, seemed like a 007 moment to me.”

  He laughed and shook his head. I didn’t want to get off track by talking about business…since it wasn’t mine. Besides, it’s a gorgeous day out and I was spending it with the best-looking, most wonderful guy in the City. Hell, the world.

  “What’s in the bag, or is that a mystery too?” I inquired.

  He leaned over and kissed me.

  “This is going to make those steaks we bought taste that much better,” he said holding up pinched fingers. Then he looked at me, waiting, and when I didn’t get it right away he continued, “Over the years I’ve amassed a collection of incomparable old world wines that I keep in the wine cellar at the Asbury, and I wanted something special for our meal tonight. So I had James pull a bottle for me.” He reached across the seat and pulled me to his side.

  “Yum. Let’s go home, slip into some comfortable clothes, get cozy on the couch and watch a movie.” I cuddled closer to him. “Then we’ll cook a fabulous dinner and eat like pigs.” I smiled.

  He laughed.

  “Like pigs, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I snorted.

  Chapter 11

  Monday morning came all too quickly.

  I had been avoiding going to the shop like the plague. For the most part the media circus has died down, but there were always a few stragglers lurking about, cameras ever ready to flash, hoping to get you at your worst, praying you’d give them a reason to print something, anything.

  I’ve had Karen open and close the shop for the better part of three weeks now. I made myself feel less like a total bitch by promoting her to Store Manager and giving her a substantial raise. The other girls seemed to like working for her and sales have been strong.

  I’m sure curiosity about my connection to the ‘Golden Hair Murders’ were what had pulled them into the store and bumped up the numbers. It always amazed me how people fixated on murder and pain, attracted to it like a moth to a flame—Cliché maybe, but true.

  After seeing Cole off to work, I dressed in a pale blue shift dress with a thin black patent leather belt. Matching black patent leather Manolo Blanick’s completed the outfit. I pulled my hair back and tied it into a low ponytail adorning it with a black bow.

  While I was in the elevator on my way down my thoughts drifted to Michelle and I wondered what that girl has been up to. It’s unusual that I don’t see her for days. Usually, I’ll at least bump into her in the elevator, the lobby or the hallway. In fact, it’s going on two days since I’ve seen her at all. That was just something that didn’t ever happen. I made a mental note to call her later and ask her what she’s been up to.

  I thought about Cole, as I do a zillion times a day, not expecting to feel this nauseated when I did.

  Cole, at my insistence, was going to call on Lauren today to find out exactly what she wanted from him, and the sooner the better, as far as I was concerned. But I had to admit, it did make me a little uneasy. I mean, she is a very beautiful woman and he had been attracted to her once…Okay, Grace, stop acting like a baby, after all, it was your idea!

  I walked out the door held open by Pat, averting my eyes.

  Oh Tony, I do hope you are feeling better soon.

  Ray pulled up to the curb, as I walked out the door carrying my purse in one hand, and my briefcase in the other. The latter stuffed full of invoices and checks I had Karen drop off at the apartment for me to review and sign. My plan was to have Leah send them all out and file everything.

  Last time I actually did my own filing turned out to be a total disaster. We needed to find an invoice for a shipment in dispute, but since I couldn’t’ find what I needed for a month, we took a hefty loss o
n the merchandise. It took us days to finally get the office operational again.

  We all sat on the floor in my office rearranging, or should I say the girls sat on the floor rearranging, for hours and hours. I finally went out to fetch lunch for us all, just to give the girls more room to work. Office management isn’t my strongest suit. Come to think of it, I don’t think I have a strong suit.

  “I’ll be here at the usual time unless you inform me otherwise,” he said smiling.

  “Thank you Ray.” I looked up at him standing next to the opened car door. “You have a nice day, and please don’t worry about me I can always take a cab.”

  “I’ll be here,” he said, his voice sounding resolute. There was no argument. Hell, there was no discussion.

  I stepped out of the Landaulet. When I reached the door of the boutique I turned to wave to Ray before running in. I knew Cole was behind the enforcement of overprotection. He’d been having Ray watch over me for weeks now. He really needed to give me a little credit. I am capable of taking care of myself.

  As I came through the door Karen looked up.

  “Hey stranger. How are you feeling?”

  “Hey yourself. Much better. It feels good getting back to work, just need to keep busy. Did we get the big order from France yet?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay. I need you to call them and get the tracking information,” I said as I slung my purse over the hook behind my office door, my agitation apparent. I’m sure L’Altaier Clothiers was hoping ‘Grande Gueule’—that would be me—was still out on ‘leave’.

  “It’s always the same with them, it shipped, it’s on the way.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I know. Always late.”

  Chapter 12

  When I walked out the door that evening, Ray was parked curbside as I fully expected he’d be and I was damned happy he was. I climbed in through the opened door and leaned back in the seat with a sigh. Astounded by how exhausted I was. Just like everything else, getting back into the swing of things was going to take some time to get used to.

  When I stepped into the apartment, I placed my purse down on the bench in the foyer and walked in to the bedroom to change. I threw on a pair of fleece shorts and a tee shirt, tossing my clothes in the dry cleaning basket. Then I made my way to the kitchen.

  I opened the door to the fridge and pulled out the iced tea pitcher pouring myself a short glass and drained it in a flash. I couldn’t believe how thirsty I was. Too much wine last night… I placed the glass in the dishwasher and walked over to the bench to get my cell phone out of my purse…but it wasn’t where I’d left it.

  What the hell? Where the hell is my pur…

  I spun around and spotted it on the table next to the lamp. That’s it; I really need to get my shit together. I am totally losing it.

  I picked my purse up and pulled out my cell to call Michelle. The call went straight to voicemail. I immediately called Cole.

  “Where are you?” I asked him. My voice sounded shaky.

  “I’m on my way to meet Lauren.” The venomous way he said her name caused a shiver to run up my spine. I was relieved I was one of the people he liked…wow. “This bullshit shouldn’t take long, I’m giving her ten minutes. I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.” His tone was clipped, businesslike.

  “I’m beginning to wish I never insisted you see her,” my voice cracked.

  “What’s wrong Grace, you sound like something’s wrong.”

  “Just a bit shaky. I think I may be going crazy.”

  “Do you want me to come home first?”

  “No, I want you to get it over with so she goes back to Denver and leaves us alone.”

  “That’s the plan,” he answered brusquely.

  “Call me when you’re on your way home, I’ll order up Chinese or something.”

  “I don’t have much of an appetite, but I’ll call you when I’m on my way.” And with that, he killed the call.

  He sounded tense, angry, not like himself. Not that I blamed him.

  I sat on the couch with a box of Triscuit crackers on my lap, intermittently staring at the phone mentally willing it to ring. I watched a little television, but nothing held my interest. I paced the floors…literally. My nerves were shot. It felt like hours since I talked to Cole. I heard the elevator doors open, then voices…Cole?

  I got up walked over to the door and looked through the peephole just in time to see Michelle, and the back of a tall man, walk into her apartment.

  Michelle was not the type to just pick up a guy, so I figured it had to be someone she knew, or someone she worked with. I smiled to myself. She had faced an awful lot on her own. I at least had Cole. Poor Michelle was stuck with only me.

  Ever since her boyfriend Jeff broke off with her, she had slowly been losing her confidence where men were concerned. She was a little self conscious about the jagged scar on her throat, and was sure it was the reason normal men didn’t approach her anymore. I was hopeful that wasn’t the reason, but knowing how shallow men could be, I had to admit, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that she was right. She had her fair share of losers who wanted nothing more then to find out the story behind the scar. It pained me to think of her alone. She deserved nothing but the best as far as I was concerned, and at the very least she should be happy. So I smiled to myself as I stared through the peephole at her closed door. Please let her have found a man that will treat her the way she should be treated. She needs some loving.

  I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sound of the key sliding into the lock woke me. I sat up rubbing my eyes. I looked out the window and was instantly confused. Was the sun setting or…what the fuck.

  The sun was rising. I could see the faint light pushing it’s way through the curtains. Cole walked in and tossed his suit jacket onto the bench. My eyes shot straight to the clock; it was five thirty. Five fucking thirty am…AM! Fucking five thirty AM! I stood up and crossed over to him as he casually walked over to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water, chugging it down without so much as a ‘hello’ for me. I just stood there, like a fool, dumbfounded.

  “What happened to the call?” I asked my mind still trying to adjust to the time difference in my head.

  “It was late. I thought you’d be asleep,” he answered.

  “That brings me to the next question. Why so late Cole, or should I say early?”

  I could feel my anger steadily building.

  He looked up at me, somewhat surprised at my tone, but stood there looking like a kid waiting to be reprimanded by an irate parent.

  “I really don’t think I could do this now. Can we talk after I sleep a little?”

  “Are you kidding me right now?” I felt my hands on my hips and knew I looked every bit the enraged psycho girlfriend. “You can’t seriously think you could stay out all night and tell me you’ll talk to me after you had yourself a little nap? You can’t be that stupid.” My feet dug in and I raised my chin to perfect arrogant bitch height.

  “Did you see her? Lauren? Did she tell you why she is hounding us, why she was so desperate to talk to you?” My voice, which sounded shrill, was hitting notes I didn’t think I could; it pained my ears.

  “Please Grace, not now, please. I can’t do this now. I just need to think. I’m brain dead. Please baby, we’ll talk about it later. I’ll tell you everything, when I have a clear head.” His tone was somewhat dismissive. He was talking as he crossed back to where I stood. Once he reached me, he held his arms out, almost in defeat, and I smelled alcohol on his breath.

  That just pushed me right over the edge.

  “So let me understand something…one thing. You come home, at five fucking thirty, after spending the night with your ex-fiancée. So far I’m accurate right?” I took a step backward and continued my tirade. “Doing God knows what, God knows where—from the smell of you I’d guess it was a bar.” I looked at him, his tired gaze fixed on me. “I’ve got to tell you, from where I�
�m standing you most definitely need to start explaining. What is going on? You owe me that.”

  “I’m sorry for the hour…I needed time to think. I walked into the first bar I passed, I couldn’t even tell you the name…and I only had two drinks.”

  “How convenient.” I stood defiant, my hands on my hips. “You’re seriously going to stand there and tell me that you nursed two drinks for like ten hours? You must think I’m a total fucking idiot.” I took a breath and continued without skipping a beat, “I must be the biggest jackass in the world, cause while you were sipping drinks with that bitch, I’ve been waiting up for you…in case you wanted to talk, in case you needed a friendly ear...I actually felt sorry for you.” My eyes held his captive and I could feel angry tears start to build.

  “When you live with someone, you need to have respect for that person and it is crystal clear you sure as hell don’t have any respect for me. I’m not some stupid, ignorant girl…oh let me take that back…I am, I am the stupidest girl I know, I was…”

  “Grace, I don’t want to fight with you. This has been a really, really bad day, night, whatever,” he cut me off announcing, with a finality in his voice and I suddenly realized I would not be getting any answers from him now. “And whatever you think happened, didn’t. I’m just asking for a couple hours sleep. I feel like I’ve been drugged. My head is pounding. I can’t even think.” He grabbed his head with both hands and bent over. He looked ashen, run down.

  “Again, how convenient. What are you going to tell me next, she gave you a roofie and had her way with you?” I turned my head and looked towards the door, not wanting him to see the tears threatening to spill over.

  “Please…Grace, baby, I’m sorry…I… I’m sorry.” He sounded pitiful. I almost felt sorry for him.

  “Really? I mean come on Cole. To come up with that lame excuse…and fuck baby. I’m not your baby.” I walked towards the front door, “I think you should go sleep somewhere else.”