Destination D (28 page)

Missed Connection

T
he air was chilly, but the crisp breeze helped Dee to concentrate as she lowered the top on her vintage convertible Volkswagen before driving off. Steve was in Atlanta at a reception for one of his clients at the High Museum and was meeting Dee afterwards. Dee suggested that they meet outside on the balcony where the open air and crowd would lessen the chances of a scene just in case he wanted to do a rerun of her episode with Chris.

While parking her car, she had flashbacks of Chris wanting to beat her down to a pulp. The image frightened her. She decided to call Steve and cancel. She dug through her purse for her phone but couldn't find it. Suddenly she remembered unplugging it and leaving it on the kitchen counter.
All right, Dee, pull yourself together, girl. Now, you have no choice but to show up.
She parked the car. It was exactly 2:00 p.m. as she walked through the entrance of the museum.

“Hello, Ms. Mitchell.” The voice had a serious tone.

“Hey there, you,” she said, turning to give Steve a hug. He opened his arms coolly and hung them loosely around her waist.

“Well, what kind of welcome is that?”

He hugged her again, a little more tightly, but not much warmer.

“Hey, let's go over there so we can talk,” he said, pulling her through the doors to the outdoor balcony.

“Steve, what's wrong? Did something happen at the gala?”

Steve grabbed her shoulders with both hands. His eyes pinned her to the corner of the balcony. “Is what I heard true, Debra?”

“Heard? Steve, what'd you hear?”
I can't tip my hand to him without first knowing what he is talking about. Maybe it has nothing to do with what I need to tell him.

“Look, I just want to hear it from you that's all,” he said, looking at her sadly.

“Hey, what's going on?” Dee said, placing her hands on top of his.

He looked down at her hands and briefly caressed them. “I'm glad to see your hand healed okay,” he said thoughtfully before continuing with his inquisition. “Do you remember my client Dr. Briscoe?”

“Yes…” Dee answered nervously.

“Well, after you hurt your hand that evening, he and I talked about you a few days later. He said that he would check to see what type of med student you were, and meet with your instructors and the other doctors to see what they felt were your strengths.”

“Really?” Dee was stunned.
Oh God, he knows.
“That was generous of him.” Dee felt the pit of her stomach began to turn summersaults.

“Yeah, I thought so, too.”

“Why'd he do that?”

“Well his plan was to meet with you after he met with them.”

“Aha, I see,” Dee said trying to figure out when she should just stop him and come clean.

“But guess what?”

Dee managed to form a small smile. “Steve, listen—”

Suddenly they both heard a loud scream come from inside the museum. Dee's flight attendant instincts kicked in and she immediately ran toward the sound. Steve was less than two steps behind her.

A woman was bending over a man's body and screaming as loudly as she could. “Someone call 911! Mr. Kinsey just collapsed! He needs a doctor, right away!”

Steve looked at Dee and she froze. At that moment, she knew immediately that he knew she was not a doctor. However, Dee was trained well enough to check a person's pulse. The man's face was turning blue and he looked unconscious. Dee bent down and put two of her fingers on the side of his neck and felt his weak pulse.

“What was he doing before he passed out?” Dee asked the lady.

“He was holding his throat.”

“Can you remember anything else?”

“No, he just grabbed his throat and started turning blue,” the woman started yelling at Dee. “What's with all the questions? Can you help him or not?”

“I'm going to do my best,” Dee answered calmly. Since he was not a very large man, it was easy for her to turn him on his back and place both of his arms by his sides so she could better assist him. “He has probably choked on something,” she said as she slightly opened his mouth. “I see something back there.”

The lady got more panicky. “Can you pull it out?”

“I can see if I can try and finger-sweep it out.” She quickly pulled some latex gloves out of her purse that she kept with her at all times in the event that she ever had to do this on a flight. She slid her finger deeply inside the man's cheek and used a sweeping, hooking action across the interior of the mouth to the other cheek. When she didn't dislodge the substance, she proceeded to perform the Heimlich.

Steve rushed to her side and marveled at Dee's calmness.

Suddenly a bone flew out of the man's mouth and he started coughing profusely. Thank you, God, it actually worked. Dee's heart was pounding. “Sir, are you okay?”

The man nodded his head and managed to mouth a thank you to Dee between coughs.

“You're welcome sir.” Dee turned to the lady who ran over to him and started hugging him so hard that it sent him into another coughing fit, except this time it was much longer and harder. “Ma'am, I think he'll be okay, but he needs to go to the hospital right away to get checked out.”

“I'm on it, now,” she said releasing him as she pulled her cell phone from her purse and began dialing.

Dee took a deep breath and looked up at Steve who was watching her every move. So many emotions were running through her, she didn't know if she should cry from sheer relief that her Heimlich worked, or laugh at how she got herself into this situation in the first place.

Steve gently patted her on the back. “You did good, Dee,” he whispered. “You saved that man's life. I must admit, that was incredible.”

Dee was quiet. She just nodded and waited on Steve's next move.

“Do you want to sit down?”

Dee shook her head. “No.”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh…huh…”

“Let's go back outside.” Steve walked Dee out to the balcony. This was not going at all as he had planned. He wanted to rail into her about what Bruce had told him, but he could tell that she was still shaken up.

Steve turned his back and leaned forward on the balcony and shook his head. He took a long deep breath then blew from his mouth. “Who the hell are you,
really?”

“Huh?”

“Is your name
really
Debra Mitchell, because I already know you're not a real doctor. So what is your
real
occupation?”

Dee folded her hands in front of her, hoping they would stop shaking. She slowly whispered, “Deirdre Bridge is my real name.” Dee inhaled. “My real occupation is…I'm a flight attendant.”

“Why did you have to lie to me? And for so long? How long would you have kept up your charades if Bruce hadn't clued me in?” Steve reached in his pocket and pulled a cigarette from its holder. He laughed half-heartedly then lit the cigarette, taking a long drag, blowing smoke from his mouth.

“So why couldn't you just tell me what you did for a living from the beginning? You didn't think I would date you if I knew the truth?”

“No, I really didn't.” She spoke softly as she squinted from the smoke.

Steve inhaled deeply and blew out several more short puffs of smoke. “Well, Deb…I mean, Deirdre, you were wrong. Dead wrong,” he said as he put out his cigarette. “What you do doesn't matter to me.” He pulled out another cigarette. “I've dated all kinds of women: exotic dancers, librarians, flight attendants, surgeons, models. You name them, I've dated them. I don't care what a woman does for a living. Just as long as it's legal!” He looked at her with such disapproving eyes that Dee could not continue to look at him.

“I'm so sorry.” Dee was barely able to form her words.

He slowly started backing away from her. “Me too, Deirdre, me too…”

Dee called out to him. “So, is there any chance that I can redeem myself?” She blurted out before she realized people were starting to stare at her.

“I can't trust you, Deb, I mean Deirdre. There I go again! Hell, I can't even get used to calling you by your
real
name. It's like I never knew who you were. Put yourself in my shoes. I've been seeing someone who has been telling me she's one thing, and now I find out she's completely someone else.”

“But, I made a mistake. Can't you forgive me?” Dee sounded so desperate.

“Yes, I can forgive you, but I can't be with you,” he said sadly. “You need help, Deirdre, and the kind of help you need I'm not equipped to give you,” he said turning and walking away.

“But, I can change Steve!” She broke down crying. “Please give me another chance. Please!” she loudly whispered. Her lips trembled as she watched him walk out of her life without even a second glance.

Surprise Landing

A
s Pam's cab pulled up to the Bellagio Hotel, she looked in awe at the enormous mountains and the bright lights of the Las Vegas city streets. The cabbie stopped, and then opened the door for her. “I'll get your bags, Miss,” he said, opening the trunk as Pam handed him a generous tip.

“Thanks a lot!”

She laughed at his enthusiasm. “You're welcome. This
is
Vegas, right? High rollers, right?”

“Ah, yes, that's right. Just be careful, though.” He stared into Pam's eyes.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I've just seen a lot of people come out here looking just like you, that's all, then when they leave they can't afford to pay their hotel bills,” he said as he rolled her bags through the opulent front lobby surrounded by a beautiful gold coiffure ceiling. “Just look at this place,” he said as he pointed to the infamous glass blower, Dale Chihuly's 2,000 glass blossoms that adorned the ceiling. “This place even has money oozing out of its floors,” he said laughing as he watched Pam gaze at the intricate designs of the beautiful marble floors.

“I see what you mean.”

The cabby nodded. “Yep, so make sure you leave here lookin' just like you look today, or better.” He winked at her as he placed her bags at the front desk.

“Welcome to Las Vegas's finest hotel, Bellagio,” smiled the hotel attendant.

“So I hear,” Pam quipped, handing him her driver's license and credit card.

“You will have a pleasant stay here, Ms. Madison. If there is anything you need, any member of the staff will be pleased to assist you. Your luggage will be in your room.”

“Now, that's service!” Pam laughed.

“We do the best because
we are
the best,” the hotel attendant smiled, extending his hand to shake Pam's hand. He handed her the room key. “Good day, Madam.”

Pam turned and walked toward the elevator, noticing that there were many families staying at the hotel. For the first time since Greg, she started to wonder if she would ever have a family of her own.

A tall man wearing Ray-Ban sunglasses walked toward his room across from Pam's. Before opening his door, he took off his sunglasses, and Pam caught a quick glimpse of his face before he went into his room. She was stunned when she recognized her neighbor.

“Marc!”

“Pam!”

“What are you doing in Vegas?” They both laughed as they spoke at the same time.

“I come here just about every other weekend just to get away, and after a certain young lady wouldn't return any of my phone calls and then hung up on me, I felt dejected and needed to clear my head and get my ego back,” he said, smiling at her. “So, here I am! What about you?”

Pam smiled back at him. “Well, right now, I'm just trying to get into my room and it seems like this key has other ideas,” she said, holding it up.

“Here, let me try.”

“Be my guest.” She handed him the key. Pam thought he looked handsome in his faded jeans and leather mules. His blue jean cotton shirt was partially unbuttoned giving her a nice glimpse of the curly hair on his chest.

“Just a little turn to the right and
voilà!”
he said, opening the door.

“I've tried that key at least five times. Thanks, Marc.” She looked up at him and felt a sudden twinge of guilt. “Hey, I apologize about not calling you back after I hung up on you. I meant to.”

“But, you just forgot and flew to Vegas instead, huh?”

“Yes, I guess I did.” Pam laughed.

Marc patted the top of her hands as he handed her key back. “Hey, why don't you come over and join me for a brandy? Maybe I'll accept your apology.”

“I'm not a brandy girl, but if you have some Chardonnay, I will take you up on that.”

“C'mon over, I'll see what I can round up for you, Counselor.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes to change and I'll come on by. I suppose I could spare a
few
minutes for someone who saved me from sleeping in the hallway tonight.”

“Good, then, the pleasure will be mine.”

Once inside her room, Pam took off her shoes and dug her toes into the warm, thick carpet. She changed into a tan velour jogging suit, slipped on her tennis shoes, and headed across the hall. Marc opened the door before she could knock.

“C'mon in. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Hey, no fair! Your room is bigger than mine,” she said with a mock pout as she looked around his inviting suite.

Marc looked at her admiringly. “We can switch, if that would make you happy.”

“I'm just kidding, Marc.”

“Well, I'm glad that you are pleased, Counselor,” he said as he handed her a glass of wine. “And I'm glad that you followed me out to Vegas. But what I don't understand is how you arranged to get a room right across from mine,” he said giving her a devilish wink. Pam started to cough as she burst into laughter.

“I didn't think what I said was
that
funny!”

“Maybe not. But
you
certainly are.” She set her glass on the table next to the sofa and laughed again. “This is just too weird!”

“I'd like to call it fate.”

“Fate hasn't been too kind to me, lately,” she said inching herself toward the window to take in the bright lights on the strip. Her look changed to that of sorrow.

“Really? How so?” he said. He got up and stood next to her, lifting her chin to look into her intense green eyes, feeling tears fall onto his fingertips. “Come here,” he said, pulling her to him.

Pam's body was stiff at first, but just like a hardened piece of clay, she softened with each firm and gentle squeeze. She breathed in deeply, secretly hoping that her lack of oxygen would dry up her tears.

“I didn't make partner. That day when you called I had just had a big argument with one of the partners, and to add insult to injury, I treated someone very poorly that really didn't deserve it.”

“Pam, I'm so sorry,” he said pulling her closer to him. The healing warmth of his body spread over her like a down comforter. She still felt a little uncomfortable being in his arms and pulled back.

“I can't believe I'm letting myself go like this,” she said wiping the tears from her eyes and straightening out her clothes. She walked back over to her wine and emptied her glass. “You know, I worked my tail off for that firm. I must have spent twelve- to fourteen-hour days every day there. And for what? I'm stressed out! I allowed my professional relationship to take precedence over a personal relationship that I had long before I was an attorney.”

She grabbed the bottle of wine and poured herself another glass. “Hell! It's been three years since I've even had sex! Oh my!” She placed her hand over her mouth and giggled nervously. “I didn't mean to say
that.
”

“It's okay, really. We've all been there,” he smiled.

“Oh, yeah, sure you have.” Judging from the scene that she saw a few weeks ago, it sounded like he got it often, and pretty good, too.

“Well, if you're speaking about the unfortunate incident that you witnessed, you're right. But I'm not referring to her. I've been there and I've lost a few friends along the way. I've been out of relationships and have not had sex.”
Although the longest I can remember has been two weeks.
He smiled seductively at Pam.

“Here's to great sex!” she said holding her glass up. “Cheers!” She drank her Chardonnay, enjoying the feel of the smooth liquid sliding down her throat.

“Well, I think you've done the right thing, you know, coming out here. It's important to take time out for yourself. I come here on a Friday and get the same suite, play a few slots, see some shows, and head on out on Sunday evening feeling refreshed for my day on Monday.”

“You know, I'm beginning to think that I should have done this kind of stuff a long time ago.”

“What? Vacation?”

“Yeah. I mean, everyone in the office seemed to take time off except me. And look where it got me.” She took another sip of her wine.

“What you experienced was self-realization. Better known as a reality check.”

“No. What
I
experienced was working my ass off and then getting cut off at the knees right before it was time for me to receive my
long
overdue partnership.” She traced her finger around the rim of her glass as she reflected on what happened.

“As intuitive as you are, I find it hard to believe that you did not see that your partnership was in jeopardy.”

“Marc, I tell you, I was totally blindsided by it.”

Marc looked at her sympathetically. “I want to hear what happened.”

“What good will it do?”

“You'd be surprised at how talking can help a situation. Have you talked to anyone about it yet?”

“I just told my roommate, briefly. But that was the night you…”

“I called? I guess my call put a big damper on your evening. Now I know why you never called me back.”

Pam looked into his deep-set blue eyes and for the first time felt like she could get lost in them. “I was at a loss for words,” she said, sitting down on the sofa and staring into her empty wine glass. “Just totally numb, ya know? I was all prepared to be told that I was going to be made partner, and then all of a sudden I'm hit with this stack of bullshit statements from paralegals that have accused me of harassment, cruelty, and unusual punishment— you name it!” Pam shook her head at the incredulity of it all.

“But why?”

“Let's just say that everyone at the firm finds me very intimidating.”

“And what do you think?”

Pam was quiet for a moment. No one had ever asked her that question before. “Yes, it's true,” she answered confidently. “But it's how I win all of my cases, and it's how I get people to respect me, except I really dug into someone who didn't deserve it.”

“Who?”

“My paralegal and former college classmate and friend.”

“How did you two end up working together?”

Pam blew out some air and started shaking her head. “Oh man, whew! When I think about how dumb that was, it makes me angry.”

Marco reached for her hand and lightly stroked it. She felt a small quiver in her stomach and gently tried to pull out of his reach, but he gave her hand a small squeeze and it remained steady.

“It was supposed to be for a short term assignment, and then it was three years later and we were still working together.”

“What happened?”

“I didn't want our friendship to cloud our work, so I forced myself to become detached. I knew I needed her because she was the best paralegal in the firm, but my pride didn't want her to know how much I needed her. It wasn't my initial intent. But, I made her feel inferior. When I think about how I treated her, I really feel terrible.”

“Why do you think you feel the need to intimidate people so much to get what you want?”

“I don't know. I guess intimidation and fear have been the driving force behind all of my successes.”

“Did someone intimidate
you
when you were growing up?”

“Not really. You know, I told you I was the third child of five siblings. It seemed like I always had to fight to get what I wanted.”

“Hmmm…a case of middle child syndrome, heh?”

Pam managed to form a smile. “Yes, I guess you could say that. My two older brothers always got special treatment from my mother because she needed a lot of help when my father was at work. She looked at them like they were the center of the earth. Then, of course, that left me and my twin sisters. Those two got a lot of attention because they were the
twins,
and
together
they were quite a handful! My brothers were tight, the twins were each other's buddies, and I was kind of the odd one out, you could say. But as I got older I got over it, and I didn't feel like I needed to continue to fight anymore with my middle child
drama
syndrome. I developed my own sense of self, went out into the world, became this great attorney, and just when everything was going the way I wanted, then…”

Marc squeezed her hand again and gently massaged her fingers. “And then what?”

Pam paused briefly feeling as if she was peeling off a layer of bruised skin that needed to be healed. “I can't believe I'm telling you this.”

“Take your time.”

“I was in a relationship that ended very badly.” Her eyes watered again as she got up. “And when it ended, the loss was so great that it took a piece of me. I've managed to survive by just working really hard, you know?”

“And it helps to ease your pain when you hurt other people?”

“No, it just happens that way. Believe me when I say that staying focused on what I need to accomplish gets me through the day. Sometimes I guess my drive seems to step on other people's toes. What are you doing? Trying to psychoanalyze me or something?”

“No, I'm just trying to understand how that brain of yours works. I'm curious about something. You said your father was the chief of police, right?”

“Oh, you remembered? Yes, that is correct.”

“Well, since your father was the chief of police, how did his subordinates view him?”

“They feared him, but they respected him,” she said defensively.

“Hmmm…I see. Which was it more, fear or respect?”

Pam thought about that earnestly. “Good question. I used to think it was respect, but as I look back on it, I guess it might have been more fear than anything. My father was a gentle man, but he was very firm. He ran a tight ship, and if you weren't on the same deck then you had to jump off.”

“Can you give me an example?”

At first Pam felt put off by the direction in which this conversation was going, but the more she listened to Marc, the more he made sense. Had she unconsciously used her father's intimidation tactics all of these years? She thought all of it was just due to her bad experience with Greg.