Unholy Promises (10 page)

“I’m fine. I’ll be out in just a minute. Is there a problem on the floor?”

“No, no problem,” she pauses, “I thought I heard you cry out. It scared me.”

I grit my teeth. Shit! I put a fake smile on my face, remembering from a past telemarketing job that a smile changes the way your voice sounds. “Oh, Holly! I’m sorry.

There was a wet spot on the floor in here and my heel slid. I thought for a moment I was going down. You must have heard me gasp, but really, I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay then.” I hear her footsteps retreat from the room and peek through the cracked door to be certain before I step into my office. It really is a very serene room. I love my office, which makes it so incredibly insane that I want to trash it right this second.

I race to the office door, shutting and locking it to make sure I am not interrupted again. Then I run back to the bathroom and check the progress of the little plastic indicator strip … one of the new pregnancy strips that you pee on and in less than two minutes it actually says the words digitally: Pregnant or Not Pregnant. I pick the offensive tester off the vanity top and curse, “Damn it,” before tossing it into the trash can with the previous six kits. “Damn it all!”

I sit down on the toilet, the last of the kits used, not knowing what to do now. I don’t know what to think or say or do … I’m just numb. I can’t possibly be pregnant.

It has to be a false positive. It has to be.

I’ve been on the pill since I turned twenty; Master and I always use condoms; Lord Fyre and I always use condoms. This just isn’t possible.

I shake my head, knowing that I can’t tell Master. He would get his hopes up. I can see his face lighting up like a child’s on Christmas morning because he honestly believes he wants a child. I wish Fyre was here…

I sigh, desperately wanting him to be on a business trip. He comes and goes so often that his being away is the more expected lately than his actually being home. But God, when he is home…

I cover my mouth, the results of the test sinking in, and close my eyes, a wave of dizziness threatening to send me reeling from my porcelain seat onto the floor. I steady myself by holding onto the vanity.

I can’t be pregnant!

I can’t be, I can’t be, I can’t be!

This would change everything…

I shake my head, hard, wanting to yell and scream, wanting to lose my mind … but that would be too easy—can I even be thinking what I am thinking? Could I honestly go behind Garrett’s back and have an abortion? Could I keep this a secret from Thomas?

I’ve lived with guilt and regret for so many years, hating Lion, hating my father, for forcing me to have an abortion … I killed a child … I certainly don’t deserve to be a mother … ever … so how can this be?

The tiles on the floor blur and merge.

How can this be?

I have to talk to Thomas. I have to find him. Now

There is no remedy for love but to love more.

~ Henry David Thoreau.

Jackie meets me on the corner of Folsom and Third. I’ve been people watching for just a few moments when she arrives, wearing the white silk pants and Ao Dai that makes up traditional Vietnamese attire, complete with a traditional straw cone hat tied at her neck, but hanging off her shoulders behind her. I guess my surprise at taking her to the very chic Bong Su is not such a surprise after all. I kiss her cheek and she bends to meet my lips, having worn her typical four-inch heels, though we haven’t stood eye to eye since the summer she had a growth spurt that took her to six-four, leaving my six-one behind. “You look lovely, as always.”

“Thank you, thank you! I am so excited. Please tell me we are having dinner.”

I make a show of being confused, before smiling widely. “We are having dinner.”

She bounces on her heels and claps her hands. “I love it here! I should just move in!

Or maybe they could tell me where they bought their sandstone sculptures and friezes and I could just redecorate.”

I hold open the door for her, allowing her to sweep in with dignified drama. It is, after all, her day.

“Don’t you just love it here?” She spins around, taking in the lavish elegance and ultra-chic interpretation of serenity. “It’s so amazing.”

“It’s lovely,” I say, telling the hostess our names. She presses close, her breasts brushing my chest, her wrists crossed behind my neck, in a casual yet sensual hug and I recognize the gesture for what it is, one of her many practiced poses, stating to the world that we are intimate. Though we are not, and never have been.

She whispers, loudly enough for the hostess to hear, “Thank you for bringing me here for my birthday. You must have made reservations ages ago!”

“Happy Birthday,” I tell her, kissing her cheek, then pivoting her, my arm sliding around her waist, as we are led to our table, a small, private alcove that I actually made reservations for months ago. When she sits, she sees the small, gift-wrapped box sitting beside her plate.

“Oh! Garrett! You shouldn’t have,” she exclaims, sitting down and immediately tearing at the brightly colored wrapping paper. She finds an inlaid and carved wooden jewelry box. Carefully removing the lid, she reveals the present inside, an intricate gold necklace, bracelet and earring set from Vietnam, the delicate gold links the shape of miniature willow leaves. She gasps, lifting the necklace to look at it more closely. “Oh, oh! Was it too terribly expensive? Help me put it on!”

I walk around behind her chair to secure the necklace that sits just above her collar bones, the gold glowing against her dark skin. Sitting back down, I tell her that it looks just as beautiful as I knew it would. She slides the two matching bracelets onto her right wrist before taking out the earrings she wore and replacing them with the dangling gold leaves. “I feel like a princess!”

“Wonderful, then my task is complete! We can skip dinner,” I tease.

“Not on your life, Garrett Lawrence.” She smiles broadly, knowing that I am a cur.

“You will order me a House Aperitif and, if you are sweet, I will let you order me a second.”

“You want me to get you drunk for your birthday?”

“On two drinks? Lord, I know you must be thinking about some other woman. Not to say that I’m not a dainty little thing, but I can hold my own.”

I laugh with her. We have been friends for thirty-two years, since third grade. We’d met when I became his knight in shining armor, some bigger kids beating the crap out of her, and I couldn’t let that happen. As the new kid in town, I might not have immediately chosen Jackie for my best friend, but that day, holding her while she cried after I’d run the bullies off, I’d known she was different, because although he was a little boy then …

he could have just as easily been a girl. It took a decade for him to figure that out himself and he has been she ever since.

When the drinks arrive, a combination of vodka and fruit juices, she takes a sip and sighs. “Oh this is heaven on Earth.” She lifts her glass toward me. “A toast to another three decades of friendship?”

“I can agree to that.” I clink her glass with mine. “But shouldn’t I be the one making toasts in your honor? I mean, it isn’t every day a girl turns…”

“Don’t you even whisper the words, you naughty man!” she interrupts. “A woman’s age is sacred!”

“I was only going to say another year lovelier! I would never say out loud that you were forty!”

She slaps her hand over my mouth. “Oh! You cad!”

“We already established that fact.”

We are just finishing our final course, blue prawns for her and duck for me, when her cell phone rings.

“I am so sorry!” she says, digging it out of her purse. “I’ll just turn off the ringer.”

But then, seeing who it is, she tells me, “It’s Kitten.”

I’m certain I look perplexed. “She’s supposed to be working late tonight.”

“Does she know you are here with me?”

“Are you kidding? She would have wanted to come and tonight was for me and you.”

“Mmm, I love being the secret woman.” Jackie smiles, answering the phone, and within a few minutes is frowning gravely.

“What is it?” I’m immediately worried and pull my cell phone from my slacks pocket to see if I have a missed message, finding that I don’t. Jackie silences me by lifting her perfectly manicured finger to her highly glossed lips before pressing speaker phone. Kitten’s plea immediately becomes audible, “Please! Take me to the airport.”

I am immediately annoyed and more than a little angry. I don’t have to ask why she wants to go the airport, but Jackie does, “What on earth are you talking about? Why do you need to go the airport?”

Kitten sounds on the verge of hysteria. “I have to stop Lord Fyre before he ruins everything!”

“Lord Fyre? Lord Fyre?” Jackie squeals. “Do you honestly think I would betray Garrett’s trust for the likes of that man? Are you insane? I won’t be party to this madness!”

“Then I’ll call a taxi.” We both hear the audible click as she hangs up the phone, but I am not sure who is more surprised that Kitten would hang up on Jackie.

I sigh heavily, dialing my pilot on my own phone. I confirm that it is he on the phone before asking, “Did Celia Brentwood by chance call you?” I have to hold the phone away from my ear as he swears on his mother’s grave that he was just getting ready to call me and that he is furious Celia put him in this position. An Irishman, his temper is terrible, but I’ve never found a more loyal man. I try to offer him reassurances.

“I’ll be there in an hour. Make her comfortable, but do not take off.” I hang up and start giving my apologies to Jackie. “Do you need me to get you a taxi?”

“No, I need you to eat birthday cake with me.”

“You’re right. Tonight is your evening and I’m sorry that Kitten has interrupted us, but cake is going to have to wait until I can get her home.”

Jackie gasps and throws up her hands, dropping her napkin on the table in a very practiced, dramatic response. “You would leave me on my birthday? Before I even have chocolate? A woman must have chocolate on her birthday.”

“Isn’t that a bit of a cliché, even for you? Not all women like chocolate.”

“Hormonal women do and yesterday I got my shot…” she pauses to fan herself with a small oriental fan whisked from her small shoulder bag, surprising me yet again at her preparedness for all moments, “…and I want you to know that I am just bitchy enough to make sure that you do not leave me on my birthday until we have chocolate!” She gets louder, calling attention to our table. “The nerve of that girl.”

I lift my hand, signaling the waiter, growling at Jackie. “I’ll stay for chocolate.”

She smiles triumphantly. “Thank you. Besides, you need to think of a plan before you just go charging off to the airport to drag her home.”

“I wouldn’t drag her. If she would rather be with him than me…”

Jackie holds her hand to my forehead, “Are you feverish? Allow her to choose him over you? Who are you and what have you done with my boy?”

I smirk. “It isn’t a competition. I understand how she feels, she’s in love with him.”

“Oh pah! I suppose next you are going to tell me that you love him too.”

The waiter arrives at our table and I order a trio of chocolate specialties for us to share, waiting for him to clear our dinner plates and walk away before answering, “I found parts of him that are very lovable.”

“You should both be committed.” She taps her fan on the table. “If I’ve said it once…”

I interrupt her, “There’s no reason to say it again.”

“Well I am! Nothing good will come of this ménage a trois you have insisted on encouraging. Hasn’t your life gotten ten times more complicated since you’ve added that man to your happy little home?”

“I really don’t need an I told you so now, Jackie…”

“Well I think you do, and while I’m putting in my two cents, I think you need to get a ring on that girl’s finger and a bun in the oven as soon as you can!”

I snort on my drink. “You want me to make a baby?”

“I did say marry the girl first,” Jackie reminds me, but it doesn’t delineate the surprise or soften the sting when she adds, “You know, if I am turning the big…” she mouths “Four-Zero” instead of saying it out loud, “…then you are coming up right behind me.”

“Dear God, Jackie.” I fold and refold my napkin, getting more uncomfortable with each passing second. Where is that chocolate? “What does my age have to do with anything?”

“I’m just saying, if you are going to start a family, you aren’t getting any younger.

Besides, you need to settle her down! The two of you fighting over her all the time, it isn’t good, whether all the attention goes straight to her head, or causes her to have a nervous breakdown. Either way, it just isn’t good!”

“She is not going to have a breakdown,” I insist just as the waiter arrives with our dessert, this time not censuring my conversation with Jackie in front of him. “You’re the one who talked me out of trying to force her to marry me. You’re the one who convinced me that a baby and suburbia were not in my and Kitten’s future. Can we just stop this conversation now?”

Jackie tilts her head and I know more grief is coming but she remains silent, lifting her empty aperitif glass signaling she’ll have another as the waiter walks away. “As soon as you face the truth that something needs to change.”

“Everything is going to be fine. You will not convince me to take Thomas out of the picture.”

“We’ll see.” Jackie purses her lips and gives me a look that is all-too knowing before directing her attention to the chocolate-dessert-laden plate, pointing her fork between two choices, before deciding to dig into the cake. She takes a bite and her eyes close in rapture. “Oh my! Oh my!”

“Try this!” she demands and I laugh as she takes another bite. “Oh, oh, oh. Oh my gggoooooddddd!”

The inky black sky is dotted with stars by the time I finally climb out of my car. I park by the hangar and walk the short distance to the jet, which sits midway between hangar and tarmac, readied to fly. The steps are down and I hear Kitten crying before I even step inside the plane. I sigh heavily. Jackie was right about one thing, my life has gotten dramatically more complicated since taking Kitten back into my life and adding Thomas to it.