Retreat (5 page)

    
“Because you threw me out on my ass for
starters. I haven’t forgiven you for that. And because we can’t date. You must
at least remember that burning fact. There is no dating when it comes to you
and me. If we started something you know damned well it would be full throttle
from the get-go.”

    
“What’s wrong with that?” he asked, leaning
back in his chair and giving her a once-over that felt all too familiar.

    
“I’m still trying to comprehend the fact
that my last name won’t be Carpenter in two months,” she said, as the waitress
delivered fresh drinks.

    
“Look, I’m not going to push you into
something you don’t want to do,” he said, straightening up. “But I’m also not
staying away anymore. You’re going to see me around.”

    
Whoa.

    
He planned to stay?

    
“Where will I see you?”A hot wave of
adrenaline shot through her. She struggled to keep her voice steady. “In Tulsa? You have a
business to run in Fort Worth.”

    
“I’m done walking away,” he said, his eyes
turning steely. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

    
“It’s clear that we don’t belong together.
Fate played her cards.”

    
“Screw fate,” he scoffed. “I want you with
me. And not because you drive me nuts, which you do. Business isn’t the same
without you. No one is as smart as you when it comes to handling the customers
in these liquidations. No one. Selfishly I may want you to give me another
chance but honestly? You need to get back out there working. You’re doing the
world a disservice by staying cooped up in that damned mausoleum.”

    
“It’s not a mausoleum. It’s an art gallery.
There are painters and weavers and a dance studio. It’s a big deal locally.”

    
“Sure, if you can afford the rent.” He sat
back in his chair and watched her take a sip of wine. They were quiet for a
while but he kept his eyes on her. She wondered if the wine was staining her
teeth. She could only imagine the toll the night had taken on her appearance.

    
“What?” she asked.

    
“Nothing,” he said, smiling gently.

    
“So, dazzle me. What have you been doing?”

    
“Traveling,” he said, not moving his gaze.
“To Germany
mostly. We made several acquisitions there.”

    
“Branching out.”

    
“Family businesses that were on the way
out. You know the drill. We buy them, give the owners a chance to save face.
We’re the bad guys instead of them when we dismantle the operation and sell it
off piece by piece for a profit.”

    
“Ah ha, the thrill of the kill,” she said.
“I remember those days.”

    
“Hey, look at it how you want to. We’re
either scavengers or saviors. What if Bill
built his whole enterprise and then it started to go to hell because he didn’t
invest in new technology or the work went overseas. He can ride the ship down
to the bottom or sell out to us, save face with the employees by framing it as
a hostile takeover, and still retire comfortably.”

    
“And the employees?” Clara asked.

    
“There are always casualties,” he said.
“You know that as well as anyone.”

    
She shifted in her chair. She’d been a
casualty. Hell, they’d been one. She tried to change the subject. “You look
like you aren’t spending all your time in a board room.”

    
Jon laughed “I’ve been hiking.”

    
“Where?”

    
“Wherever I am.”

    
He leaned close across the table and
lowered his voice. “It seems I have a lot more free time on business trips now
that you aren’t on them with me.”

    
Her cheeks flushed as her mind detoured to
the last trip they took together. They’d gone to Albuquerque to start negotiations with a
small food manufacturer. She didn’t know if it was the Mexican flavor of Old
Town or the brightly decorated rooms, but things had gone from mild to spicy in
a heartbeat.

    
She pushed the thought away.

    
“I have a proposition for you,” Jon said,
his lips curling as he read her reaction.

    
“Another one?” she asked, sure her cheeks
were still rosy.

    
“I’m serious. Nothing personal. Just
business,” he said, although the fire in his eyes appeared anything but
businesslike.

    
“What kind of business?”

 
   
“I
knew you’d dump that loser as soon as you found out about Sally and the kids.
So that basically leaves you homeless, and unless they’ve started paying
volunteers, incomeless.”

    
“Thanks for pointing that out,” she said.
“Is that even a word?”

    
“What if I offered you a job?”

    
“You’ve got to be kidding.”

    
“Not for Freedman,” he said. “For me. I’m
thinking about going out on my own.”

    
“Doing what?” she asked.

    
“The same thing Freedman’s doing, merging
companies and then liquidating the combined assets. You bring that whole
customer-service thing that I struggle with. You said yourself you want to
start your own company. We’d make a good team.”

    
“I can’t work for you or with you. It’s out
of the question.”

    
“Why not?”

    
“For the same reason I can’t date you,” she
said. “It would be too intense.”
   

    
“You like intensity.”

    
“I like stability,” she corrected.
Stability had become her mantra since moving to Tulsa.

    
He laughed again, putting his beer back on
the table. “No you don’t.”

    
“You know me better than I know myself
now?”

    
“How’s that whole stability thing going for
you these days? Come on, don’t you remember what a good time we had?”
  

    
“We were sneaking around, that’s what made
it seem so exciting.”

    
“It wasn’t just that and you know it.
Remember that time on the boat?”

    
“The one you almost capsized?”

    
“I forgot that part,” he said.

    
“I was terrified. I thought we’d both drown
out there on the bay.”

    
“The fear of dying heated things up later
that night.”

    
“That part I remember,” she said, color
creeping into her cheeks again.

    
 
“I’ve missed you,” he said. “More than I want
to admit. God, Clara. What the hell happened to us? There was so much there, so
much … hell, I don’t know … promise I guess.”

    
Clara looked at him but didn’t say anything
for a moment. She’d felt it, too. That promise. She’d honestly thought she
could spend the rest of her life with him.

    
“I should head upstairs,” she finally said,
not wanting to encourage the conversation when she was even slightly off her
game. The thought of curling up in his arms and falling asleep was almost too
tempting to resist, and she knew it would lead to so much more. “Tomorrow will
be a long day.”

    
“I’ll come with you.” He held up a finger
for the waitress to bring the check.

    
“That’s okay,” she said. “Stay here. Thanks
again for coming tonight. I was about to make yet another blind-sided mistake.”

    
“Clara …”

    
“Jon, no,” she said firmly. “You’re right,
it was fun while it lasted, but there’s nothing between us anymore. There can’t
be. Don’t complicate things any more than they already are. Please.”

    
He stood across from her, a pained
expression crossing his eyes.

    
“I understand,” he said. “But I don’t like
it.”

    
“Thank you,” she said, softly. “I thought
you would understand.”

    
Clara left him at the table and made her
way back down to the lobby and over to the old elevator. She swayed from the
wine as she navigated the blue and mauve striped wallpaper on the sixth floor hallway. She found her room and went inside,
greeted only by its cold, lonely silence.

    
Her blue-flowered bag sat unopened on one
of the double beds, her suit hung neatly in the closet. She dropped down on the
edge of the other bed and put her face in her hands.

    
With a shudder, she allowed the tears to
fall.

CHAPTER
3

    
The next morning Clara stood trapped
between a rotund man in a white Stetson and a petite Asian woman with two
hard-shelled suitcases strapped together with a wide green belt. The old
elevator jostled and groaned its way to the lobby, ringing out its now-familiar
call at each floor.
 

    
She allowed the others to step out first
and then headed through the quiet lobby to the revolving front doors. When she
stepped outside she was comforted by the continued coolness of the air and the
temperate breeze that wound through the tall buildings as it had the night
before. She felt it gently lift her hair from her shoulders before allowing it
to settle back down.

    
It was a moment before she noticed Jon
standing in the taxi queue talking on his cell phone. She was surprised to see
he was still at the hotel at nearly 8 a.m., having spent enough nights with him
to know that he tended to rise unnaturally early for a hard run.

    
“Clara,” he said, closing his phone and
strolling over to her. He was dressed to fly in jeans, the boots he’d worn the
night before and a black long-sleeved shirt. His flight uniform, he’d always
called it.

    
“I was hoping I’d get to say goodbye this
morning,” he said.

    
 
“I’m
heading over to Aesthetics,” she said, pointing to the tall glass-faced
building across the boulevard, which was humming with morning traffic.

    
“I need to talk to you before you leave,”
he said, searching her eyes as if he was trying to judge her mood before he
spoke.

    
“Make it fast,” she said, doing her best to
sound rushed.
 
“I need to get going.”

    
“I’m going to call you,” he replied.

    
“About the donation?” she asked. She was
trying hard to keep any trace of emotion out of her voice. After crying herself
to sleep she was more determined than ever not to let him break down her wall
again. She still had David to deal with and a job to find. Jon just complicated
things.

    
“About us,” he said.

    
“I told you how I felt last night.”

    
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, taking her
hand and gazing down at her. “I’ll call you. If no photographers or family
members show up then maybe I’ll call you again.”

    
“It’s not a good idea,” she said.
 
“I’m sorry.”

    
He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

    
“Don’t bother being sorry,” he said. “I
have no intention of taking no for an answer.”

    
She opened her mouth to say something but
he put his finger to her lips.

    
“You don’t have a choice, so don’t bother
to argue. I’ll be in touch,” he said, then started to walk toward the bellhop,
who was holding the door of an idling cab open for him.

    
“Well, I don’t have to answer the phone!”
she called after him defiantly.

    
That turned out to be a mistake.

    
He stopped dead as if he’d forgotten something.

    
Oops, she thought, turning quickly and
starting toward the corner so he wouldn’t think she’d been staring after him,
even though she was.