Wildfire (3 page)

I shake, and then, I remember the frightening moment in the pool, my hands bound, my heart pounding, buoyed in the water only by my trust and his strength.

Having relied on my ability to stuff my feelings, I thrived on the practical and the controllable aspects of my life. Then in one night, over his lap, I opened all the old doors. I can still feel his heavy hand rubbing my trembling ass, the sharp sting of the brush smacking my skin over and over, punishing me, pushing me, burning through my defenses, my denials and getting the very core of my being. I cried that night, releasing the pain and letting go of all regrets. He smoothed the tears from my face and entered my body with the nurturing healing pulse of his being in me. He transformed my tears into the wet joy of passion as I moaned under him.

Through it all, the hot and angry fucking, the slow and beautiful loving, the trials and temptations, his patient teaching and my stumbling submission, it always ended the same. He held me gently with kisses and kindness telling me it would always be okay. His words from the pool echo inside me now, providing the last life line I have left.

“I’ll never let you fall.”

“Julia!”

I snap out of my trance and realize the whole cell is staring at me. Blushing and hopeful they can’t guess what’s been going on inside my head or my responding swelling cleft.

“Sharp! Julia!” The guard’s agitated tone evidence her impatience.

“Yes Ma’am?” I ask, walking over the cell door, shocked to see her opening the heavy grate.

“Let’s go, Sharp.” She grumbles.

“I thought I didn’t get a call?” I ask, clearly confused about what’s happening. It’s way too soon for them to be sending me to court. I am just not that lucky.

“You don’t,” she sighed. “You got friends in high places, Rich Bitch, I’ll grant you that. You’re not even getting arraigned.”

“I’m not? What’s happening to me then?” She’s so glum I can’t tell if something good or bad going on. She walks me down the narrow hallway and out the same door I came in. We end up in the center of booking. I look around terrified that something happened and I have to start the whole process again when I see a familiar face.

“Hello, Miss Sharp. Lovely to see you again,” he smiles broadly, holding the manila envelope containing my few personal items.

“Mr. Clank! What are you doing here?”  I stand still in the center of the room unaware the guard has let go of my arm and walked back to holding.

“Making a deal and helping a friend,” he replies. He hands me the envelope and taps my arm. “I saw you when I walked in. I called Mark and he told me about the violated restraining order. They wanted me to stall on bailing out the Arturi brothers and I wanted them to speed up your release, so it worked out. We don’t have time to talk now; you’ve got to get to the courthouse. Everyone is waiting for you.”

Clank walks me quickly through the maze of the station. I glance at the clock and it’s 1:10. I have 20 minutes left.  I expect him to take me into the parking garage but we end up on the sidewalk in front of the station.

“By the time we get the car out of here and find parking at the courthouse you’ll be late.” He points up the street. “The courthouse is three blocks that way. Run!”

Realizing that this is going to be the most important sprint of my life, I drop my shoes at his feet and take off.  I won’t fail and I won’t fall. I know it.

Running into the courthouse, breathless and crazed, I’m not entirely surprised they stopped me at the door. I slow down long enough to run some fingers through my hair – transitioning it from an “I just got out of jail” look to an “I just woke up and starting running around like a banshee” style. I manage to hold it together long enough to go through the metal detector which is pretty easy considering I had tossed my envelope and my shoes at Mr. Clank’s feet. Amazingly, they let me go.

“I need to sign something. I’m looking for the business court, transfers and judicial something or another,” I say to the guard.  He manages to choke down a laugh. I can tell what he is thinking, but to his credit he doesn’t say it out loud.

“Third Floor. Court is 316; Bailiff Signings is 310 on the left.”

“Thank you,” I nearly kiss him, but run off instead.  The elevator doors are closed so I don’t even bother with it and take the stairs bounding up two or three at a time. It takes a minute for my vision to adjust to the bright lighting of the corridor. I dash to 310 as soon as I see the number and open the door to see a group of people standing around a desk.

Mark is there, with Paul Fries, Kevin Johnson, our former IT person, some blonde woman I don’t recognize who looks like she belongs with the streetwalkers in my holding cell and signing a document in front of the bailiff is Valerie James.

Oh, no. It’s too late.

“No!” I call from the door with as much of a voice as my oxygen-deprived body can produce. I stumble into the room, everyone turning to look. I try to get to the table as quickly as I can, with this weird idea I can stop her before she finishes writing her name and reverse the entire last month of my life. Mark steps in front of me.

“Julia,” Mark says rationally.

“No!” I shout. I begin hitting him with my useless balled up fists. Over and over I smack him in the chest.  “No. No. No. No. NO!”  

“Julia!” He hisses sternly through clenched teeth. “Julia, stop!”

“It’s gone,” I whimper as I put my head on his chest, collapsing like a deflated balloon. “Lynx is really gone.”

“No, Julia it’s not.” Mark grabs me by the arms and holds me up so I can look in his eyes.  “Lynx is fine. Lynx is going to be yours for a long, long time.”

“Really? Then what the hell is
she
doing here and what is she signing?” I attempt to point at Valerie but my arm is too tired to raise more than six inches.

“She’s signing a deposition.” Mark replies factually. “Now take a second and catch your breath. You’re making a scene.”

I take his advice and stop for a second to let my body slow down and my brain speed back up.

“I don’t understand,” I finally confess.  He walks me toward the desk where everyone is still staring at me.

“Valerie gave a legal deposition about Blake. She told the court all about how Blake broke into her files and took her personal documents and photos. She testified that Blake offered her Lynx in return for personal favors. She laid everything out before the court. She made the case.”

I must still be delirious, because I can’t believe what I am hearing. Valerie James, my arch-rival and lifelong enemy exposed her secrets and went out of her way to save me?

“Julia,” Valerie says as she glides over. With an unexpected gentle hand she brushes a long strand of my hair out of my face and offers me a tissue to take care of the tears stinging the corner of my eye. “I didn’t know.”

“What?”  I stand there in shock as she leans down and looks at me directly. Her eyes don’t have the fire, the sarcasm, or the superiority I always used to see in them. Right now, they show nothing but compassion.

“I didn’t know Blake had stolen Lynx out from under you or any of the terrible things he put you through. He called me about two months ago and said Lynx had violated some agreements and wasn’t a good investment. He told me he was planning to shut you down and asked if I would be interested in taking it over.  I’ve always wanted Ladies World to have the edge you have, so I agreed.”

“But you—”

“Later, Kenneth told me they were monitoring your computer system and you had an absolute bombshell of a story hidden somewhere. But, they didn’t know who wrote it or what it was about.  So when they took over the office I came in to try to find it. However, it was a myth. There wasn’t a story. Blake was using me as a pawn to hurt you and help him drive up his stock with rumors of Ladies World’s new prospects.”

“But there is a…” I begin to say when the odd blond woman in the room coughs loudly. It stops my mouth long enough for me to realize I shouldn’t reveal the Wall Street Story until I’m sure Lynx is really safe. “There are a lot of good stories there.”

“Yes, there are.” Valerie nods with a look of respect. “You’ve got a great magazine. And that’s why I decided to give the deposition. When Mark called and said Blake had those pictures I confronted him. He tried to blackmail me with other pictures he stole. I was so grateful when Mark called to say you two retrieved them.

“Oh, those,” I mutter, slightly embarrassed for her to know I’ve seen them.

“But that’s not why I came here today. I came because I like you, I respect you, and I love our rivalry. I think it makes us both sharper, better editors. But, I want to spar with you on equal ground, as peers. Kicking you when you’re down, particularly when you’ve been thrown down by the lies of a corrupt asshole like Blake Stone, isn’t very sporting or honorable.”

“Thank you,” I say earnestly. I almost reach out and hug her but a huge “bang” fills the room. Everyone looks to see what’s going on in the doorway.  There stands little Robert Clank, bowtie askew, sweating and smiling. He’s holding my jail envelope in one hand and my shoes in the other.  It’s the first time I realize I’ve been standing there barefoot. I feel a blush developing under my skin.

“I thought you might need these, Miss Sharp.” He gasps. I end up giving him a hug as I lean on his shoulder to put my shoes back on.

“Hi Val,” Mr. Clank says cordially.

“Robert,” She acknowledges warmly. “How’s our resident superhero?”

“Oh, another day, another captive set free,” he laughs.  They can tell I’m shocked by the exchange and the fact that a woman who runs in the top circles of New York society speaks with such familiarity to this diminutive little cop car chaser who bails out criminals for a living.

“Robert is the angel of uptown,” Valerie explains to me in a whisper as if revealing the secret to the fountain of youth known only to a few. “He’s bailed out more of my reporters, photographers and undercover folks than I can even count. He’s also quite well connected to streets and boardrooms. Get to know him.”

“I have,” I laugh. Mark makes his way over to where we are standing. With one arm around Valerie and one around me he guides us both back to the table.

“Ladies, Kevin has finished signing his testimony about the computers at Lynx and how they were altered. Paul is almost ready for Julia to sign the final draft, if you’d come this way.”

“Hi, Miss Shark!” Kevin says with a smile, not seeming to realize his error.

“It’s Sharp, Kevin,” I correct mildly. “Thank you for helping me today.”

“Sure, sure,” he says enthusiastically. “Everyone at Lynx misses you so much, and loves working for you. I hope you can come back soon. We need you.”

I watch his eyes shift from me to the blonde woman I don’t know. I realize the blonde hair is a hastily donned wig. Her makeup is thick and doesn’t match either her complexion or her casual dress which has been accentuated with evening jewelry. Her highly polished black shoes seem to be a pair of JC Penny Nine-to-Five flats.  While Paul is fussing over pages with the bailiff I walk over to the mismatched anomaly who might be a drag queen and try to introduce myself.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t seem—” The woman, who has been staring at the floor through most of the morning, gets a thin little smile, her lips pressed together and her eyes dart wildly toward a corner of the room. My mouth falls open in horror.

“Over there,” she mutters through clenched teeth and I realize for the first time she’s shaking. “Let’s go over there.”

Walking to the corner, I can see her signature short quick step that I’ve watched through my office door a million times.

“Janice?”

“Okay,” she says sternly. “No need to make a fuss.”

“Janice, what the hell?”

“I only had an hour to put this together and I have limited resources. I’ve been out of work the last few weeks, you know.”

“What are you talking about?  Why are you…um…like
this
?”

“I’m you.”

“What?” I burst out laughing. It’s loud enough to draw attention to our little corner of the room.

“Shhh!” She hushes me with a maternal glare. “I’ve made it this far. Let’s just get out of this and then forget it ever happened. I’ve already threatened Kevin with the most painful of deaths if he ever breathes a word of this anyone.”

“Get out of what? What do you mean you’re me?”

“Mark called and told me you had been put back in jail. He said if you didn’t sign these papers everything was lost. I went over the precinct and it was a wreck. No one would talk to me and there was nothing I could do. It didn’t look like anyone was getting in or out of there very fast. It’s quite inefficient, you know.”