The Science of Loving

by Candace Vianna

  “Danny, hush.” Carmen looked at me. “Why do you feel responsible for their mess?”

  “Before I left on Friday, I complained to Daddy about some of my mom’s behavior, and this is what I came home to.”

  “The divorce papers were already drawn up; otherwise, they couldn’t have been served so quickly. Jack has probably been waiting for you to be out of the way to serve them. Now that you’re an adult living on your own, perhaps he felt it was time for them to move on as well.”

  The rest of the afternoon, Danny kept me from becoming too morose with a steady stream of snarky anal king comments as Mat efficiently directed the many helping hands. And once Daddy’s neatly packed man cave was stacked in a corner of Mat’s warehouse, we trooped up to his loft for an impromptu pizza party.

  Now this is an open floor plan. Wow. His home was nothing I could have imagined. I’m not sure what I expected, but certainly not this warm mixture of wood, stone and iron. I guess all those dark whispers and teasing comments had primed me for something more sinister and dungeon like.

  Geometric rod-iron works of art replaced the original industrial doors still living on the first floor. I stepped out of the freight elevator onto a river of stone that flowed left, through a galley kitchen filled with light maple, black granite and stainless steel into a dining room before disappearing down a darkened hallway.

  Straight ahead in a sunken living room with light bamboo floors, a large Volkswagen sized boulder held pride of place. Water dripped down its sides into hollowed out pools reflecting the modern chandeliers hung at varying heights from a leftover crane system above us. A leather sectional, dyed a rich forest green, wrapped around an oddly shaped coffee table with mesquite like branches supporting its glass top, and scattered about, jewel toned throws provided bright splashes of color.

  Defining spaces using elevation rather than walls had an overall effect that was open, bright and modern. And, when the tall floor to ceiling windows running along the outer wall were filled with daylight, I imagine, airy.

  “Wow… Mat this is amazing.”

  “It is now,” he rumbled with a smoky look that had my face going all kinds of red. “C’mon, let’s get the plates out.”

  “So Mat, Angie said you’re an architect. Did you design all this?” My dad gestured with his pizza when we settled down to enjoy our first cheesy bites.

  “Yeah, I wanted the convenience of city living, but when everything I looked at felt cramped, too closed in, I started looking at unconventional spaces and found this place.”

  “You’re certainly talented. Some of the things you’ve done would never have occurred to me. The way you’ve utilized the overhead crane system is brilliant.”

  “That’s right.” Stewart beamed at me. “Angie said you were an engineer. We were lucky your daughter was with us last weekend. She saved the day when our camper malfunctioned.”

  “Yep, she’s always been handy.” Daddy smiled.

  It must’ve been some kind of signal when Daddy carried our empty plates to the kitchen, because everyone started leaving after that. Most blaming early morning work schedule that reminded me of the mess waiting for me on campus. When Mat returned dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, I knew it was time to go.

  I walked Mat back to his car after he placed the last of Daddy’s boxes in my spare bedroom; dreading the impending confrontation with Daddy—he shouldn’t have involved boss in this mess—and of course, some of this came through in my expression. “Just remember to breathe sweetness,” he said, crushing me against his chest.

  He was strong and solid and I needed that so much, but I was afraid I’d drive him away, thinking I was this needy useless person. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “About today—all the drama, calling you, interrupting your day. I’m not always like this. Usually, I’m more self-contained. I have my work to escape into, so when this mess spilled over, I had no place to go.”

  “No worries, sweetheart, I was having a lousy day. Spending time with you could only make it better. I like— No, I need you leaning on me. It feeds my inner caveman.” Then he tangled his fingers in my hair and took my mouth in a kiss so primal, it left me breathless. “Later Pebbles.” He grinned, walking backwards. Enjoying the drugging effect his kisses had on me all the way to his car.

  “Later Bam-Bam.” I whispered, still unable to find my voice, waving into his headlights.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dreamers Dream

  I drove to the lab under a cloud of doom. Big chicken that I was, I couldn’t bring myself to confront Daddy last night; although, I was sure he knew something was off, no one read me better than him. But like always, instead of pushing, he just carried my side of the conversation with forced cheerfulness.

  Shit, my stomach dropped. It was only seven in the morning and Bob’s car was already here. He never came in before nine. Well, maybe getting it over with early was a good thing; that way I wouldn't be obsessing for hours on end… But I liked obsessing. I was good at it.

  Doing my best dead nerd walking impression, I trod up the stairs, marching through the dim lab to my office, not bothering with the lights. I stared at my computer like it was the enemy as it booted up. Somewhere mixed in with the various newsletters, e-sales fliers and IT notifications was a loaded email waiting to explode.

  Shit, I hated being right. It was a short, but sweet: “Call me when you get in. Bob.”

  My phone rang. Bob’s voice came out of the speaker after I let it go to voicemail. “Pick up Angie, I know you’re there.” He probably had someone watching the parking lot. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Hey Bob, you’re in early.”

  “Yeah, well it takes an early bird to keep up with a certain reclusive scientist. Stay put.” Shit.

  He must’ve already been on his way down, because the lights came on within seconds warning me of his arrival, then his smiling face poked through my door. That wasn’t good. Bob wasn’t a smiley kind of guy.

  “Morning Bob.” My fake cheerfulness wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “Morning.” He set a coffee in front of me. “How’s it going?” He settled down with his own, eying me over the brim.

  “You tell me.” I knew I sounded bitter, but since it was all that kept me going, I clung to it.

  “Look I had to do it. If I’d had the chance, I would've warned you.” Carmen’s words came back to me. “The divorce papers were already drawn up; otherwise, they couldn’t have been served so quickly…”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Known what? About Stephanie’s indiscretions? Your Dad’s unhappiness? Or the divorce?”

  “Yeah, all that.”

  “Your Dad’s unhappiness is a given considering the circumstances. Stephanie’s been indiscreet for years—as brilliant as you are, I can’t believe you didn’t know. No, on second thought, I can. You’re good at using that brilliant, single minded focus of yours to avoid things you don’t want to deal with: The greater the upset, the harder you work.” He scowled. “It’s annoying… The divorce is Friday’s news.”

  “But how did you get involved?”

  “Your Dad called me Friday after finding out about the scene at the bar.” So it was my fault. “I met with him. We talked. He’d had the papers ready for a while. The only thing stopping him was you.”

  “But why you? Why did it have to be you serving the papers?”

  “I offered. Her behavior harmed you both personally and professionally, and I told Jack as much. Within our small community, reputations can make or break a career; and unfortunately, personal reputations are every bit as important as professional ones. She forced me to pick a side; I picked yours.”

  “Couldn’t you have picked no side? Stayed out of it?”

  He shook his head. “Believe me, I tried. The last thing I wanted was to get involved, but after Friday, I had no choice. If I distanced myself from this—from you, someone I’d handpicked and groomed—it would’ve been
a slap in your face professionally. It would’ve meant you weren’t living up to my expectations.” I didn't know at what point I’d started crying. If it wasn’t for the snot threatening to drip in my coffee, and the box of tissues in Bob’s hand, I might never have noticed. Shit, talk about unprofessional.

  “Angie, we need you not just for the work you do, but also for inspiration.” Bob had never sounded so earnest. “You’re our muse, our bolt out of the blue, a brilliant light in an otherwise dull community.”

  “Yeah, I just wish the grapevine didn’t find me so inspiring.”

  “That too shall pass. On a totally different topic, tell me about Leslie Jacobs.”

  “Leslie? What do you want to know?” Bob actually looked… Oh, my God, is he blushing?

  “Is she involved with anyone?”

  “Noooo…”

  “Oy!” Speak of the devil. “Good morning my little bundle of neuroses.” Les came breezing around the corner, stumbling to a halt when she realized I wasn't alone.

  “Morning Les, you remember our Department Chair, Dr. Tate?”

  “Good morning Dr. Jacobs, Les.” Bob’s rush to his feet should have caused a breeze through my curls.

  “Morning Dr. Tate, Bob.” Les grinned. She so had his number.

  “Well, I’d better leave you ladies to it,” he said, beating a hasty retreat.

  “So, how’d it go?”

  “I think I’ll survive another sunrise.”

  Les settled into Bob’s vacated seat. “Mmmmm, toasty.”

  “God, you’re weird.”

  “Yeah, but enough about me, did you get any juicy details about freaky Friday?”

  “You do realize you’re talking about my parents, right?”

  “Oh, right… Sorry… So… Nothing juicy?” God, she was shameless.

  “No juice. Even if there was, Bob at least, realizes some things are best left unsaid,” I muttered, then grinned. “But do not lose hope my indecorous friend, in the near future, you may have an opportunity to personally pump juice from the source, as he’s made inquiries regarding your social eligibilities.”

  “Wow… You must be feeling better. That sounded almost poetic. I particularly like your subtle use of pump and juice.”

  “Yeah, I think Mat’s sister’s rubbing off on me. His family showed up yesterday to help Daddy move. He’s going to live with me for a while. Yea!”

  “Yeah? How’d it go?”

  “Better than expected, once I regained consciousness.”

  I couldn't believe it had come to this; we were lawyered up in the conference room. Tom and I were on one side of the table facing off against Max, and unbelievably, Avery, on the other. Since when was any of this Avery’s business? But I guess Max felt he needed an ally.

  “If everyone’s ready, let’s get started.” The mediator at the head of the table shuffled through his papers. “The purpose of this meeting is to come to an equitable dissolution of James, Karlson and Reid Enterprises. Where by, Mathew James and Thomas Reid agree to purchase Maximilian Karlson’s interests in the afore mentioned entity as determined by an independent actuarial assessment, and forgo invoking the morals termination clause. In return Mr. Karlson agrees to quit all current and future claims against said entity.”

  “No wait, wait a minute.” Why the hell was that little fuck even opening his mouth. “What sort of claims are we talking about?”

  My lawyer stayed me with his hand. “Excuse me, what is Mr. Johnson’s standing here?”

  “He is here at Mr. Karlson’s request. We apologize, I will council my client’s guest against further interruption.” Max’s lawyer didn't look any happier about Avery’s presence than we did. When did Max lose his ever-loving mind, and how did I miss it.

  “We will get to enumerating specific claims shortly.” The Mediator redirected us back on task. “If everyone will turn to page six of the Partnership Agreement… Subsection 8b is the Morals Turpitude clause. It refers to the circumstances under which the partnership may be terminated with prejudice, as well as, what damages can be levied against the offending party. Messrs. James and Reid agree to release Mr. Karlson from any future civil liabilities that might arise from his conduct or that of his agents during the time this partnership was in force. Is this correct?” He got an affirmative from both lawyers. “If you will now turn to appendix IV, you will see the Actuarial report regarding the current and projected fiduciary contribution each member brings to this partnership. Messrs. James and Reid have agreed to jointly pay Mr. Karlson’s current and projected contribution for this fiscal year over and above one-third the depreciated value of the current physical assets and holdings. And, all parties agree to sign a Non-disclosure agreement.”

  “What the hell is this?” From Avery

  “We’re supposed to be equal partners.” I guess Max didn’t realize how little value he brought to the table. Hell, even I thought it was more than that.

  “Gentlemen please,” the Mediator said, regaining control. “As this report indicates, historically, Mr. Karlson’s contributions to this partnership have been substantially less than that of his partners; and under the current model his projected worth shows no indication of changing.”

  “Dammit, if you guys had just listened to me, I could've brought in a lot more.” Max was livid. “It’s not my fault you turned away all that business.”

  He was never going to get it. “Look Max, I’m done. We have different visions. Either you can take this offer or we can invoke the morals clause and sue you for damages. Even if you win, the harm to your reputation will sink any future endeavors you might have. Talk to your lawyer, I’m getting a cup of coffee.” My side of the table emptied, leaving Max to consult with his lawyer. Even though I’d thought the morals clause was unnecessary at the time, I was thankful now that Mom insisted we have it.

  Mel smiled at me as she made a fresh pot of coffee. I’d bought forgiveness earlier with flowers and truffles. “Your reservation is all set at Mr. A’s for tonight, seven o’clock.” God bless her. Mr. A’s was one of the most romantic restaurants in town. Located on the top floor of a skyscraper on Bankers Hill, its glass walls featured breathtaking views of the city and its menu was the definition of gastronomic indulgence.

  “Thanks Mel, you’re the best.”

  “I know,” she said, sashaying back to her desk.

  “God, I just want this to be over.” Tom was clearly distressed. “I can’t believe he invited Avery to the meeting after all the damage he’s done.”

  “Makes one wonder if Avery’s holding something over him.”

  “Yeah, the thought crossed my mind… Doesn’t matter though, he’s just too much of a liability. But that report makes me realize how unfair we’ve been to him. We’ve been hobbling him while we’ve stretched our creative wings.”

  “Some of that’s his own fault. Once he decided to pursue big developers, he dropped everything else.” Damn, Mel made good coffee. She deserved a raise just for putting up with us. Pulling out my phone, I texted Angie letting her know to dress up for dinner.

  “Hey beautiful, pull out your fancy knickers and red dress. Reservations for 7 @ Mr. A’s.”

  Guessing from Avery’s red-faced fury, and the defeated set of Max’s shoulders, his lawyers must’ve convinced him to take the deal. Things wrapped up pretty quick after that. Papers were signed and notarized, arrangements were made for payment and public notices were drafted. Overall, it was a little anticlimactic and sad.

  I pulled out my phone when it buzzed against my leg. I glanced at the screen and grinned. “What makes you worthy of my fancy knickers?” She was brave when she was out of reach.

  “You’re right; I’m undeserving… no knickers.”

  “Not totally undie-serving… granny panties?”

  “You stole some old lady’s panties? Bitch’n”

  “You’re sick.”

  “I’m not the one wearing stolen depends.”

  “So, what are you wearing?”<
br />
  “Nothing but a smile baby.”

  “In public? Let me know when you make bail.”

  “How about a conjugal visit? I can show you where to stick the file.”

  “Sounds painful. Can’t play now, my public is calling.”

  “Flies getting rowdy.”

  “No, horny.”

  “I got a cure for that.”

  “It’s illegal to practice medicine without a license.”

  “Are you accusing me of quackery?”

  “Well if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck… See you tonight Dr. Feel-good.”

  “Later baby-cakes.”

  I let Daddy get the door as I rushed to finish ‘putting on my face’ as mom called it. Since I normally didn't bother with make-up, I was discovering turning my sows ear into a silk purse, wasn’t as easy as Danny made it look. Deciding I'd done all the damage I could, I smoothed my dress, checking my game-face one last time—dismal—and marched out to face the music.

  When the men both looked up, I swear I could feel heat shoot from Mat’s eyes and prickle across my skin. “Hey, Beautiful.” Mat smiled, tilting my face up to breathe a light kiss on my nose, leaving my lipstick unsmudged.

  “Hey,” I melted when his thumbs stroked subtly over my cheeks. When I realize he was just blending my inexpertly applied blush, I dropped my gaze, my face heating. Crap, just kill me now.

  “When did my baby grow into such a beauty?” I knew Daddy had to say that, it was a legal requirement.

  “Ready?” I nodded focusing on Mat’s chin.

  “Bye Daddy. I don’t know how late we’ll be.”

  “No worries honey, I know you’re in good hands.” Oh, Daddy you have no idea. And Mat’s slightly sinister grin declared he had similar thoughts.

  He helped me up into the Lexus as my narrow dress did its best to thwart my lady like affectations—note to self: SUVs and tight dresses equal whorish displays—a fact Mat took full advantage of as he buckled my seatbelt for me—he must think I’m incapable of buckling my own seatbelt—I discreetly inhaled, thoroughly enjoying the scent of freshly applied aftershave and leather—so, not going to enlighten him.