The Underground (22 page)

“You look tired, Joe,” Gladys said during a meeting break, when the two were alone in the conference room.
 

“I didn’t sleep well,” he said. “It was such a great performance. My mind wouldn’t quiet down, I guess,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as though it was her fault.

“No, I had an amazing time,” he said quickly. “I’m so grateful you invited me. I just need a little sleep.”
 

“Well, you shall have the evening to yourself. Tonight is girls’ night out,” she said,
 

Nathaniel’s heart sprouted wings. He wouldn’t have to make awkward excuses about being unavailable. “Have a wonderful time!” he said. But he was pulsating with thoughts of the evening ahead with Shayla.
 

Nathaniel left work at 6 p.m. and walked toward his hotel, feeling uneasy. He was on guard for the Tasers, as there always seem to be a rash of them around this time of day. Today there were none. Maybe it was a lucky sign. He passed the Blue Café, a bar that reminded him of the Black Hole. He ducked inside and felt comforted by the divey interior and decided to grab a bite. It would be better than going straight to his hotel and pacing for two hours.

He sat on a worn, red vinyl stool near the bar and it gave a loud squeak, causing several guys to turn toward him.

“Sorry,” he said, as they stared with a hint of disdain. He was dressed for the office, and everyone else wore blue collar garb, some with the Washington Public Works insignia. “I’m one of you!” he wanted to say, as they turned away. He felt so alone as he turned his attention to the Webavision. The Queen’s face smiled broadly as she answered an interviewer’s questions. She talked about how successful the POAs were and declared that marriage rates were rising. He couldn’t stand to watch and turned away. He started to worry about Shayla. What if she didn’t show up? He reminded himself that if she hadn’t wanted to see him, she never would have walked out of the opera’s first act. Curiosity might only keep her there long enough to get an explanation, but at least she would show up.

Nathaniel didn’t know what to tell her, but he wouldn’t lie, even if he didn’t reveal everything. He needed her love, her forgiveness, and the warmth and peace he hoped she would offer. Even if they had to be secretive again, that would be okay. It wasn’t ideal, but they had lived through it before.

Chapter 28

Shayla told Michael that evening that she needed some time alone.
 

“But we made these plans so long ago,” Michael said. “And my Uncle is making us dinner. Can you have your alone time tomorrow?” he said. It was the first hint of impatience he had ever expressed, and she couldn’t blame him.

“I’m just not up to it,” she said. “A rain check. Dinner at the Palace.” This would be a rare opportunity, and Shayla hoped it would make up for the last minute cancellation. Yes, she felt badly, but no, nothing was going to keep her from Nathaniel at the Omni Hotel at 8.

“I’m disappointed,” he said, and she could tell he was beyond disappointment as she hung up the phone. But she pushed thoughts of Michael from her mind as she rushed to the Omni hotel. She was early, but knew he would be there. Disguised in a hat and sunglasses, she walked through the lobby with her head down. It was five minutes to 8 p.m. when she knocked on the door.

“Shayla,” he said, and she felt a flutter in her stomach at his voice speaking her name. A well of emotion surged in her as she stepped inside, pulled the door closed and fell into his arms. Her fantasy of making him explain or apologize before she took him back wasn’t even a whisper in her mind. She needed him.

He hugged her, holding her close so she could feel his heart beating as if it were in her own chest. Her love for him burst into its second bloom as he kissed her and they stumbled toward the bed, quickly removing one another’s clothes with a primal passion. Desire boiled inside her belly.
 

“I missed you,” she said.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, as he wordlessly unbuttoned his shirt. She took him in with her eyes before they kissed again. She felt the roughness of the skin on his hands, like a residue of his years at the Cambridge Public Works, and it made her want him more.

She led his hand to the front of her blue jeans and he began to unbutton them.

“Lie down,” he said as he helped her remove them, along with her underwear that revealed a triangle of softness that she pulled his hand toward. Shayla groaned with pleasure, as his fingers explored her with the perfect touch.

She reached to touch his hardness with her hand, and gripped it as she moved up and down the shaft with an undeniable urgency. After all the aching nights of dreams and fantasies about reuniting, she couldn’t believe they were together.
 

“I need you now,” he said suddenly, pulling her hand away from him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted any man.

She lay back and opened herself to him. He entered her slowly at first and his love for her made him move with a rhythm that satisfied them both. She bellowed as a ripple of ecstasy tore through her over and over and he shuddered with it too as she felt his hot, wet pulsation flood her body.

They collapsed in a beautiful exhaustion, entwined in one another’s arms. They were peaceful. They were complete. They lay silently for a long while, caressing each other. Shayla was afraid to speak. The moment was so perfect and she wanted it to last forever. She was afraid of what he might say. She was afraid that something might keep them apart.

Still, she wanted to know. Why had he disappeared? Why did he give her a note the night before, like she was a stranger? And why did it have another man’s name?

“I’ve missed you so much,” she said, finally breaking the silence, meeting his eyes, as she basked in the warmth of his arms. “Why did you leave?”

His forehead reached down to softly meet hers. Their eyes locked together, as though averting this gaze might pull them apart all over again. Shayla finally broke away, carefully and slowly, not wanting to separate herself from the pull of love that was as strong as the moment she first felt it.

“It wasn’t my choice,” he said solemnly.

“What happened?” she said, her heart beating quickly as she feared it might not be easy to hear.

“You can’t tell anyone what I’m going to tell you or that you even saw me. Our lives are at stake.”

 
“I promise,” she said quickly.

“Especially not your mother,” he added.
 

“Definitely not my mother,” she said, even as she worried about the ramifications of keeping that promise.

“I was kidnapped. I couldn’t contact you and didn’t even know where I was.”
 

Shayla’s eyes filled with tears. She listened as he recounted select pieces of his journey to the Underground, their mission, and how he came to D.C. as Joe Merino. He spoke slowly, stopping at the evening of the opera.

“I couldn’t take it when you left,” she said. “I had to leave the Public Works. I had to leave Cambridge.”

She didn’t want to tell him about Michael. Not yet.
 

“I’m never going to let you go again,” Nathaniel declared.

 
“I love you, Nathaniel,” she whispered, surprised at how easily those words came, and how much she meant them. “But I have to tell you something.”
 

“You can tell me anything.”

“You were gone for a long time. I thought you might be dead. I was horribly depressed and my mother pushed me. I’m dating someone.”

“Is that who you were with at the opera?” Nathaniel said, as his caressing hand moved away.

She nodded, afraid that they wouldn’t be able to move past the next thing she had to say, but she knew there was no way around disclosure. “He’s my fiancée, actually. His name is Michael. He’s a wonderful man. But he’s not you.”

The idea of Michael sat in the silence between them.

“The moment I saw you at the opera… ” Shayla said.
 

“I’m sorry about all of this. I really am,” he said, taking her hand.
 

“I knew right then, looking out across the opera house beside my fiancée, that I only wanted to be with you. Even before I knew what you had been through,” she said.
 

He smiled and stroked her face.
 

She continued, “It sounds like it was awful.”

He nodded solemnly. “I haven’t spoken to Brigg either since the day I left. I think about him all the time,” he said looking straight ahead, remembering their carefree days as kids.

“We’ll need to think about this,” she said.

“We’ve been silent before, and we’ll do it again if we need to,” he said, caressing her bare shoulder. “At least now we can make love in a bed,” he joked as he drew her near.

She nodded. “But we must be careful. More so now than ever before,” she said. And he nodded back.

They held each other closely through the night, until Shayla awoke at 5 so she could get home before work.

“I don’t want to leave. I’m afraid you won’t be here later,” she added.

“I promise I’ll be here. At least until tomorrow. Then, I need to go back to Kansas City.”

“Unless a certain Steelco executive calls up Kelly Boys and requests your services,” she said.

“Really?” he asked. “Unless you need a meeting scribe specifically, I can’t see how that would work.”

“I’m the CEO, remember? We always use temps, and I will put together a profile of what I need that caters specifically to you,” she said.

“That would be incredible,” he said.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said. “8 p.m. here?”

“Yes, we’ll have room service and a full evening together,” he added. They kissed once more, and Shayla tore herself away.

——–

“Hello, my lovely wife-to-be. How are you today?” he asked with his usual adoration. It was his routine midday call. Shayla wasn’t ready to deal with Michael, but avoiding him would make matters worse.

“Hi, darling,” she managed, the words sticking in her throat. “Sorry, I was just looking at a finance report and the numbers startled me,” she said, as she realized some explanation of her silence was required. Hiding her new reality was more difficult than she had anticipated.

“Nothing bad I hope?”

“Not too bad, though things are a bit crazier than usual today,” she said hoping to fend him off quickly. She twirled her hair nervously, thankful he couldn’t see. He knew this trait and would have wondered what troubled the woman he worshipped.

“What would you like me to cook tonight? Duck confit? Salmon with hollandaise? Anything you want,” he said. Michael’s stint in chef school meant he frequently created mouthwatering gourmet meals with the full romance of tall candles and fine wine.

“I hate to do this, but tonight isn’t going to work,” she said, trying to quickly think of a good excuse. “There’s something that just came across my desk, and it must be done by morning,” she said, feeling guilty at the lie.

“You still need to eat, my love.”
 

“That’s true. But, if I have dinner with you, I’ll just be tempted to take the whole evening off and play with you,” she said, hoping the flattery would deflect any suspicion. She hesitated, then added, “Tomorrow we can have the whole evening to ourselves.”

The desire to spend a romantic evening with Michael was far away, but she knew it was vital. She was, after all, supposed to marry him. She needed to be careful and remain outwardly attentive while she figured things out. In a certain way, she knew there really wasn’t much to figure out. She had to marry Michael. That’s the way the world worked and just admitting that to herself made her die a little inside. She knew she wouldn’t give up Nathaniel, but she hated the dishonesty.

“Okay. If you really can’t make it tonight, tomorrow will have to do. I’ll miss you.” Disappointment saturated his voice.

“Can I come over late? You know, just to stay over?” he added.

“I’ll call you if I get done early.”

“Okay,” he said, sadly.

“I have to run,” she said.

“I love you.”
 

“You too,” she managed before clicking the call away.
 

Sometimes Michael could be so clingy, she thought to herself. She couldn’t catch her breath for a moment at the thought that maybe there was a way to undo this mess. Maybe there was a way in which she could get out of marrying him, without hurting him. As she wondered, her assistant came in with an envelope.

It had proofs of their engagement photos. Michael insisted they have them taken, so they’d be ready for their announcement to the world about pending nuptials. It had taken an entire Sunday afternoon of clothing and location changes.

Shayla looked at the top photograph in the healthy stack of glossy 5x7s. Their broad smiles glowed, although hers felt forced. It reminded her of when she was a little girl. She smiled for the press photos, but hated the paparazzi. For some reason, her mother adored it.

The photo captured what appeared to be the perfect couple sitting in the park with the glorious backdrop of a summer day. He wore a smart summer suit, and Shayla wore a sundress that Michael had picked out. She felt the dress was too conservative, but Michael was insistent and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.