Oh Stupid Heart (5 page)

When the elevator
opened on the third floor where Sam had parked the car, she realized her laptop,
briefcase, and purse remained in the backseat of the limo.

She tried to retrieve
them, but the doors wouldn’t open. She repeatedly kicked the back tire to
relieve her frustration.

Sam spoke behind her.
“Carrie, don’t make a scene. He’s not worth it.”

“I need my laptop and
stuff.”

He gently moved her
aside
,
opened the
back door, and retrieved her items.

As she clutched her
laptop to her chest, tears erupted like rain.
Damn it!
She rubbed her
face on her sleeves. “You warned me I wasn’t his type.”

Sad eyes stared back
at her.

“Well, at least I
found out before anything happened.”

He wrapped his arms
around her, her laptop, and her purse and hugged them all. “If you need to
talk, call me. And don’t even think about quitting until you get your two weeks
in San Francisco. He owes you a vacation. You were and always will be the best
employee he’s ever had.”

Now the water works
erupted into a tsunami.

“I’ll drive you down
to the first floor, but you’ll need to stay in the parking garage until I pick
up Master Trent and leave.”

She nodded and walked
to the front passenger side.

Sam slid in and leaned
across to open the door.

After two silent
minutes of driving in a tight downward circle, he stopped far back from the
first floor entrance and gripped her hand. “Call me.”

She nodded, opened
the door, and got out, feeling as if she might throw up.

By the time she
walked out of the parking lot, Sam and Master Trent were long gone. However, a
black sedan waited in front of the high rise.

She knocked on the
window. It rolled down. “Are you here for me? Mars said he’d called me a ride.”

“Are you Miss
Hanson?”

She nodded.

The driver popped
from his car and held the back door open for her.

Settling back into
his seat, he turned to face her. “Ma’am I’m really sorry. I somehow missed you
when you left the building. Have you been waiting long?”

She’d been waiting
her whole life for love, but it looked like she’d be waiting even longer.

“Where would you like
to go, ma’am?”

“Home.” She fought
back her tears. “Any chance you’ll drive me to New Jersey?”

He smiled at her.
“I’d be glad to.”

“Then I want to go
home.”

Had Trent known the
price of getting new and working employees, he might have endured the sorry lot
he had. He’d never had a more miserable day. It wasn’t the constant
interviews—although they were getting old fast—it was Coco. She pursued him
with the same intensity she had the first time.

Why she thought it
would work, he had no idea. She no longer had his father to arm twist him into
proposing. And this time he had Carrie. Why the hell would he want Coco?

But his company
needed her contacts to bring in employees who actually wanted to work. So he
endured the back massages, the inappropriate hugs and kisses, all the while
thinking of Carrie and the wonderful night they would have.

“Trent, darling, can
we stop off at your penthouse before lunch?” She walked behind his desk as he
filled in the names of the three people they had interviewed for the payroll
manager. Her fingers tangled in his hair. She leaned down and whispered,
“Somebody needs a haircut.”

He focused on her
question. “Why don’t we order in?” The last thing he wanted was to be alone
with her in a private situation where she could push matters to the point he’d
have to come clean and confess he had no interest in her other than her ability
to bring him good people. The moment he told her the truth, she’d be gone.

He’d realized on day
one she had not arrived to fix his problem. She intended to become his biggest
nightmare: Mrs. Lancaster.

He’d keep his current
staff first.

However, a working
staff was worth a lunch and a stop at the penthouse. So he gave in.

When they left the
temporary offices, his car and Sam were MIA. When Sam didn’t answer his phone,
Trent hailed a taxi. He didn’t have time to worry about his non-working driver.
He had to stay focused on Coco.

By entering the
penthouse, Trent broke his promise to stay away, but at least he found Sam.
Thus, after enduring yet another attempt by Coco to seduce him, they went to a
ridiculously expensive restaurant whose portions might satisfy Carrie, but left
him hungrier than when he arrived.

By three in the
afternoon, he had a hunger headache and no longer liked the perky people
interviewing for jobs. They all said the same things. If he heard another
person claim their main flaw to be working too hard, he might scream. In what
idiot’s mind was working too hard a flaw of any sort?

The moment the last
interview was over and Coco slipped off to the lady’s room, he called Carrie,
desperate to hear her voice.

At the fourth ring,
it went to voice mail. He left a short message and tried the penthouse.

Mars assured him she
wasn’t there. Had she gone home? Even the possibility hurt his feelings. How
could she forget she’d invited him to spend the night with her?

He called her home
and got her voice message.

Coco returned and sat
on his desk. She pried the cell from his fingers. “No calls. We need to discuss
other matters.”

“But I’m worried
about Carrie. She’s not answering her phone.”

She rolled her eyes.
“She probably went back to her hovel in New Jersey.”

“It’s not a hovel.”

“Darling, it’s in New
Jersey. It’s a hovel.”

He bit his tongue for
the sake of his company.

She placed her arms
around his neck. “According to Grant, she skipped out after a few hours of
non-work, taking your keys with her, and never came back.”

He felt his pocket.
“She didn’t take my keys. I have them.”

Coco rolled her eyes
for the hundredth time today. “The keys to your office. Grant requested them
and she refused.”

“Good. I don’t want
some stranger rifling through my office.”

“He’s your EA,
darling. You have to trust him.”

“No, I don’t.”

She stared up at the
ceiling. “This is why you cannot keep good employees.”

He only had one good
employee, and she had left work early.

Something was
definitely wrong. He snatched his phone from the desk where Coco had dropped it
to flirt with him.

When she tried to
take it back, he walked away from her and called Carrie again, leaving messages
on her cell and at her home.

He called Sam. “I
can’t find Carrie.”

“Not my
responsibility,” his driver replied and hung up.

He tried Mars. “Has
Carrie shown up there? I’m worried. I can’t find her anywhere.”

After a long pause,
Mars spoke. “She was here earlier.”

“When?”

“When you and Miss
Coco arrived.”

“Where? I didn’t see
her.”

“She was in the
servants’ area, in my office.”

“Why didn’t you tell
me?”

“You were having a
moment with Miss Coco. I thought silence the prudent choice.”

A moment?
Trent groaned and stormed off to the men’s room where Coco might not follow.
“Mars, is there a chance she saw Coco kissing me?”

“I am not certain. She’d
left through the servants’ exit by the time I returned.”

She must have seen
them. Why else would she leave without speaking to Mars? While normal people
didn’t say goodbye to their butlers, Carrie always wished him a wonderful day.

“Damn it!” He could
not lose Carrie, not even for his company.

Without doubt, she’d
gone home. “Mars, call my driver and make him do his job. I’m going to New
Jersey and if you have to call a service, fire Sam. Whichever way, I want a car
outside in ten minutes.”

He hung up and beat
the hell out of a stall door. He would not lose the best thing in his life
because of Coco. He tried Carrie’s home number again.

“Carrie, I am not
losing you over a misunderstanding! We had an agreement neither of us would
allow their feelings to be hurt until they talked to the other. I am declaring
you in violation of our agreement.”

He paused, hoping
she’d answer.

When he spoke again,
he was near tears. “Carrie. What you saw wasn’t real. Just like you are
enduring your new position, I’m enduring Coco’s unwanted affections. We are
doing these things for the company. But if you don’t pick the phone up, I’m
going to fire her right now. If it destroys my company, so be it. Nothing is
more important than you. You have five seconds before I blow our plan apart.
Four. Three. Two…”

After a bit of
clattering, Carrie’s voice came over the line. “Don’t.”

The sound of her
voice filled him with relief, but he wasn’t out of the woods. She still hurt or
she would have answered the five hundred messages before this one.

“Mars said you were
in his office when Coco and I came in. He thought you might have seen her
mauling me with her lips.”

“I was…I did.”

“I’m so sorry you saw
that.”

“I’m more sorry you
did
it!”

“I’ve put up with her
sexual advances for our company. But if you want, I’ll tell Coco to leave me
the hell alone. If she walks out, so be it.
You
are the most important
person in my life, and I never want to hurt you. Tell me what to do. I’ll end
this now if you want.”

“No. Just come here.”

He released a deep
breath, grateful for Carrie’s forgiving nature. “I’m leaving the building now.
If I’m lucky, I can get out before the bitch even knows I’m gone.”

Coco paced before the
elevator, talking to someone on her cell. Trent slipped into the stairwell. No
way would he descend forty-eight flights, but one floor would do. He was
certain she stalked the hall to ensure he didn’t leave without her.

His trick worked and
he made it to the lobby alone. The guard he liked so much opened the door and
right outside his car awaited. Feeling as life had righted itself, he nodded
and hurried to his limo.

He talked to Carrie
all through the barely moving New Jersey traffic.

She had a theory as
to why New Jersey traffic was so much worse than New York’s.

“Sam knows all the
alternative streets to take in the city. And there are lots of them since the
city is mostly built on a grid system. New Jersey was evidently founded by
anti-grid colonists who preferred to make roads out of deer trails. Thus, it’s
not just Sam who doesn’t get off the main highways during rush hour and drive
the local streets; it’s everyone. The local roads in New Jersey are laid out
like a pan of spaghetti dropped on the floor. There’s no rhyme or reason to
them.”

“So I shouldn’t order
Sam to get off the Interstate 80 parking lot and take the local roads?”

“Please, don’t. I may
never see you before I leave for San Francisco if you do.”

He almost asked her
not to go, but realized they both needed her to be safely away so Coco couldn’t
hurt her any further.

“I’ll want to talk to
you every day, so figure out the time difference.

She chuckled. “It’s
three hours earlier.”

“So we’ll talk when
your classes end.”

“I’d like that. But right
now, I need to make a phone call.”

“Is it important?”

“Yes.”

He paused hoping
she’d tell him who she needed to talk to, but she didn’t. “I love you,” he
whispered, not wanting Sam to hear him. If his driver knew the intensity of his
feelings for Carrie, he’d spend every waking hour trying to seduce her.

For some perverse
reason, Sam obsessed over anything he had. His driver dated the same type of
women he liked, and evidently on occasion the
same
women.

He intended to lodge
another complaint with Mars. Sam should get his own life.

“Trent, did you hear
what I just said?” Carrie asked.

“Sorry, Sam was
distracting me.”

“I said, ‘I love you’.
I’m glad you reminded me of our agreement.”

“Me, too.”

Assured all was well
between them, he let Carrie to make her other call. His driver glared at him
through the rearview mirror, but he didn’t care. Carrie remained his. Nothing
else mattered.

Carrie called the airline
and tried to change her flight back to her original schedule but her seat had
already been snatched up. If only she’d given Trent a chance to explain first.

When he arrived, she
confessed she’d moved her flight to early morning. She expected him to be hurt
and angry, but while expressing disappointment, he didn’t yell at all, which
made her feel even worse. If only she had kept to their agreement and talked
before getting hurt.

Having just the night
to spend together, they stayed in, cuddled on her sofa, watching a movie based
in dreary San Francisco on her twenty-four inch TV.

The next morning, he
carried her suitcase down and handed it to his snarly driver before joining her
in the backseat.

The trip to the
airport had never seemed shorter. Once there, she stayed with Trent as long as
she dared before entering security and hurrying to her plane. Reaching the gate
as they were making last call for boarding, she settled in her first class seat.
She closed her eyes and replayed every moment of the most romantic non-sex
night she’d ever had.

They’d fed each other
curry flavored popcorn, nibbling and tongue-teasing each other’s fingers. Never
had she realized how stimulating eating seasoned snacks could be. She wasn’t
sure why they persisted in not having sex, because she couldn’t love Trent more
than she did now. He was everything to her.

***

The moment she
stepped off the plane, Carrie hated San Francisco for being so far away from
NYC and Trent. She squinted at the blinding light streaming in from the large
airport windows. Where was the mist and gloom? At least then her mood and
weather would get along. The sun made her wish Trent had come with her. Last
time she’d let a movie establish her weather expectations.

A giant black guy
wearing a wrinkled ill-fitted suit stood among a small herd of limo drivers,
holding up a sign with
Hanson
scrawled in black marker. She approached and
smiled at him.

He glanced down at
her, then returned to watching the people headed to the luggage carousels.

Frustrated by his bad
manners and worried someone might snatch her bags, she spoke in a snippy tone,
“Any chance you might like to help get my suitcases, or shall I come back after
I’ve managed it on my own?”

He returned his gaze
to her and frowned. “You’re Hanson?”

She nodded, finally
understanding the guy’s behavior. He still searched for his client. “Carrie
Hanson from Lancaster Chairs.”

Oddly, his frown
remained. “May I see some ID?”

Never in all her
travels had any limo driver asked to see her ID. “Why?”

“Because my ‘Hanson’
is an executive, not a kid.”

Her face burned with
embarrassment and anger. She pulled out her passport and thrust it at him.
“Would you get my bags now?”

“Shit, I’m sorry,
Miss Hanson. It’s just you look—” He stopped himself, evidently realizing stating
the obvious would only push his foot further down his throat. “I’ll get your
luggage.” He rushed to the carousel, leaving her and her tiny, childlike legs
to follow.

“You’re not mad at
the driver,” she counseled herself. “You’re angry at San Francisco for being so
far from Trent.”

By the time she
arrived at the carousel, the driver had located both her suitcases.

Her mouth fell open. “How…?”

His chest puffed out
as he grinned. “I checked the name tags. Is this all?”

The moment she
nodded, off he flew, leaving her in his wake. People quickly filled the space
between them and soon she lost sight of her driver.

She continued in the
direction he’d headed, hoping he would realize he’d abandoned his client before
he actually left the airport. Otherwise, she’d never see her luggage again.

A happy thought
pushed its way into her surly brain. Thanks to Trent, she had a credit card
with no limit, so she could buy new clothes if necessary.

He truly was becoming
a wonderful human being, a remarkable feat given his horrible upbringing. Being
raised wealthy ruined a person.

Suddenly the crowd of
people parted revealing her driver and luggage.

“I am so sorry.” the
man said. “I didn’t mean to leave you behind.” He settled in beside her, matching
her pace. His pent-up energy radiated off him, like a racehorse stuck with the
job of a seeing-eye dog.

Carrie intended to
cut her race horse loose. “Hold up.” She was about to tell him to get the limo
and bring it to the curb when some jerk not paying attention to anything under
five-feet-tall plowed into her and slammed her to the less than clean floor.

“What the hell!” Her
driver snared the man’s arm. “You ran over the lady. Watch where you’re going!
You could have killed her!”

Carrie didn’t know if
the man felt bad he’d flattened her to the ground or feared the angry giant in
a bad suit would hit him, but never had she seen a man more apologetic in her
life. He even helped her up and dusted her off. She really didn’t appreciate
the latter.

“I am so sorry, miss.
I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”

Her rump hurt, but no
way in hell she’d share her pain, or he’d be patting her there, too. “I’m fine.
Please remember, there are people down here at this level, so you should keep
an eye out for us.”

He chuckled,
evidently thinking she’d made a joke. “Thank you, I will.” He hurried off at
the same frantic pace he’d had before.

“Okay if I walk in
front of you?” the driver asked.

She almost pointed
out he’d already tried and failed at normal walking speed, but hell, everyone
deserved a second chance, so she nodded. To her shock, her driver maintained a
reasonable pace the entire way to his limo, and in his wake, she arrived
without being flattened again.

Once inside the limo,
he apologized yet again. While she couldn’t rally herself to say he’d performed
his job adequately, because he hadn’t, she appreciated his sincere regret for his
mishaps.

“We all have days we
don’t perform to our best. All we can do is learn from them and move on.
Dwelling in regret is not helpful.”

The driver smiled at
her. “Are you really an executive? Cause I ain’t never heard one be so
reasonable about mistakes.”

Good question. Was a change
specialist considered an executive? Even when she was an EA, technically she
might not have been considered such.

Yet, she did the work
of an executive. More importantly, she had the credit card of an executive.

She pondered the
matter all the way to her hotel.

The driver retrieved
her luggage from the trunk and passed it to a bellhop. “You treat this lady
right. She’s an important person.” He crouched down, as one might do when
speaking to a small child and smiled at Carrie. “I hope you have a real nice
time here in San Francisco, Miss Hanson.”

“Thank you….” she
squinted at his tiny name tag.

“Clarence.”

Odd, she could have
sworn the tag said something like Mauritana. Maybe he didn’t want to give his
real name after his less than spectacular performance. If Trent had been with
her, he would have spent the whole ride tracking down the owner of the limo
service and getting the fellow fired.

She extended her hand
to him and lied. “Nice to meet you, Clarence.”

Evidently, God didn’t
like liars, given the swiftness of his retaliation. The driver crushed her
fingers with such force, she yelped in pain. He released her hand in horror.
“Miss, I’m so sorry!”

Carrie massaged her mangled
paw, praying no bones had snapped. “Just learn from your mistakes. I’m going
inside now.” She hurried off before Mr. I’m-Sorry-Clarence could screw up his
job worse.

Once settled in her
suite, she called Trent and told him about her painless flight and her painful
departure from the San Francisco airport.

“What service did you
use? I’ll call and get the guy fired,” Trent offered.

While she refused to
tell him, because he would do it, she also loved him because he wanted to do
it. She’d never had anyone on her side before Trent came into her life.

And while he'd seemed
unlikely champion material when she first met him, with patience and love, he
was becoming a hero any woman would want.

Her thoughts darkened
as she recalled one tall, beautiful blonde who clearly wanted him…back. And
Coco would have two long weeks to work her magic without anyone coming to
Trent’s rescue.

Only their desperate
need for a change specialist kept Carrie from aborting the classes and flying
back to NYC. And if the classes didn’t prove helpful, she’d head home.