Body (30 page)

I’m reeling from what he’s told me. He fired Ms. Peterson?  He’s promoting me? This is far too much information to process.

“See you on the course next month?” Chase stands.

“You know it.” Hawthorne grins and claps Chase on the back. “Give me an opportunity to win some of my money back!”

“Not a chance, Dave.” Chase grins and shakes Hawthorne’s hand.

Chase and I make our way out of the building. Jack is there with the car door open. I slip in and sit in silence, completely stunned.

Chase grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. “I told you I’d take care of the problem,” he says and my heart sinks. He has a smug, egotistical look on his beautiful face.

“What did you tell him,” I ask.

“I told him about our relationship, what that hag Peterson did to you. I told him I wouldn’t stand for it. No woman of mine is going to be given an ultimatum to choose between me and her job.”

I look at him, shaking my head. He doesn’t notice that every word he speaks is putting nail after nail into the coffin of our relationship. “I threatened to walk, and take my money with me.” He smiles from ear to ear rather proud of himself.

The tears I was holding back fall down my cheeks. “Stop the car, Jack,” I say loud enough for Jack to hear.

Chase looks at me and Jack peers at me through the review mirror but doesn’t stop.

My insides heat to boiling, fueled by my anger. “Stop the fucking car now!” I scream and slam my fist on the leather, ensuring I’ve gotten Jack’s notice. Traitorous tears run down my face and I wipe them with the sleeve of my suit jacket. Screw it! I’ll get the damn thing dry cleaned.

“Gillian, what the fuck?” Chase says angrily.

Jack finally pulls to the curb and I bolt from the car. I have no idea where I’m headed but I stomp off down the busy San Francisco street on a mission with no destination.

Chase’s footfalls slam against the concrete as he tries to catch me. “Gillian, stop now!” He yells forcefully.

I don’t care. He can’t control me. I’m not his property. No one owns me. I walk as fast as my four inch heels will take me. As I’m about to round a corner, I hear the one phrase that stops me in my tracks.

“You promised you wouldn’t run!” he yells.

I close my eyes and count to three, then turn around. “I cannot believe you did that to me,” I grit through my teeth.

“What the hell are you talking about? I just saved your ass from losing your job!”

He doesn’t understand so I’m going to spell it out for him. “No, you did the same thing they did to me. You gave them an ultimatum.” I put my hands up to my forehead, wishing away the anger, the frustration, the heartache. “Take care of the little woman or I walk with all my money! You knew that he would cave and do whatever you wanted!” I can barely contain the helplessness controlling my emotions.

“I don’t understand the problem. You didn’t want to lose your job. I didn’t want to lose you. Problem solved and you got a promotion.” He brings his hand to my cheek, to swipe his thumb along the skin. He loves touching me, but once he does I’m gone.

I slap his hand away so quickly he steps back as if burned. “I didn’t earn the promotion. Oh wait, but I did…On. My. Fucking. Back!” I roar loud enough for passersby to take a wide circle around our bodies.

He stares at me dumfounded, clearly clueless as to why I’m angry.

“God damn it, Chase! I can’t talk to you right now. I am so disappointed I can hardly breathe.” I hiccup and hold back the sob that wants to tear through me. “Leave me alone.” I turn and start walking again.

I see a cab ten feet away, and I rush to it and jump in. I give the cab driver the address and try Bree’s Yoga method of taking deep calming breaths. In one nostril, out the other then reverse it. It starts to work. Numbness settles over me instead. The cab driver makes it to my destination and I get out and enter the brick building.

Dodging people in varying costumes, I make my way to the back of the theatre. Everyone has seen me before and knows I’m stopping in to see Kat or Maria. I head to the very back where Kat’s design closet is. It’s actually a large room but it’s filled with costume upon costume making you feel like you’re in a big closet.

Apparently the God’s have given me a respite because Kat comes into view. She’s down on her knees tailoring an outfit. Inside the outfit is Maria. I offer thanks to the almighty and enter so I can be seen. They look up and can tell something’s wrong. It’s not their first day being my soul sisters.

Kat looks down at her watch. “Would you look at that? Lunch time. Ria? You hungry?”

Maria stares at my solemn face. “Famished. Gigi?”

“Starving,” I whisper, my voice chock full of unshed tears, a few octaves lower than normal.

Kat messes with her cell phone while Maria removes the shredded outfit. It’s some type of “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” number and Maria is covered in swaths of deep red fabric that look like they’ve been stretched and ripped by a cat’s claws.

“Bree will meet us at our favorite place. She doesn’t have another class until this evening,” Kat informs us.

“I love you guys,” I say so seriously they both look up.

“We know, Gigi.
Te amo.
Now let’s go and deal with this shit,” Ria’s riled. This is the second time in as many days I’ve been in hysterics and both of them involve Chase. Her useless men theory has some serious merit.

***

We arrive at the little hole in the wall Irish pub. It’s relatively quiet since it’s after the lunch rush. The tables are all made of stones with Celtic symbols prominently encased in the center. The table we always try to sit at has a huge trinity symbol with a circle of protection around it just like our tattoos. Our little group has adopted that single symbol to represent our undying bond and sisterhood. The Celtic Trinity can mean different things. It can represent the body, mind, and soul, but in religious circles it represents the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. For us, it represents our past, our present and our future. We will always have a past, our present will consistently be linked to one another and our future is limitless as long as we have each other.

Bree has arrived and ordered four Poorman stouts, a mixture of Guinness and hard raspberry or apple cider. Since our drinks are dark chocolate in color on bottom and bubbly pink on top, I assume it’s the raspberry cider.

I slide in next to her and she grabs my face, searches my eyes and presses her forehead to mine. “Gigi, boys that make girls cry suck!” I nod against her forehead. She kisses my cheeks and wipes my tears. “You’ve been mad at men before, had shitty men hurt you before and you have never cried like this,” she continues.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Kat asks as if she just asked something as simple as “How was your day?”

I look into each of their eyes. Brown, blue, and grey, the colors that help breathe life into my world. I can lie to myself over and over, saying the feelings aren’t there, that they don’t matter. I am incapable of lying to them.

In a horrible moment of honesty and bubbling anger I answer on a screech, “I do, damn it!” I groan and grip my pint glass so hard I wish it would break. “I don’t want to but I do!” I press two fingers from each hand into my temples but the pain doesn’t go away. It’s still there. He’s still there, his sad face broken and apologetic as I screamed at him on the street…still there taunting me.

“Why don’t you want to, honey?” Bree asks. “You haven’t been in love in a long time. Is it because that big meanie makes you cry? I’ll kick the good looking bastard’s ass from here to next week if you’d like!” she adds with fervor. She’d do it too. She will open up a can of whoop ass on him and he will be powerless to stop the tiny firecracker.

“That’s exactly why she doesn’t want to be in
amor
with him, Bree,” Ria responds for me. “The last man she loved hurt her…
muy mal
, really bad,” Her Spanish accent comes out when she’s emotional. She knows exactly how I feel. I know it’s how she feels with Tom.

“It gets worse guys. He gave the CEO of the Foundation an ultimatum. Fix the situation with me or he walks as Chairman…along with his forty million dollar annual donation. That money pays half of our operating costs.” I take a huge gulp of my Poorman and let the frothy drink soothe frayed nerves.

“Whoa. He did that?” Kat says mouth agape, eyes wide.

“It gets worse. The HR Director was fired, and I was promoted to Associate Director of Contributions.” I sneer and take a slug of my drink.

“Am I missing something, Gigi? That sounds pretty fucking fantastic. Congratulations!” says Bree.

“I didn’t get the promotion because I deserved it; I got it because of Chase’s influence. He even said something to the effect, ‘no woman of mine is going to be given ultimatums and be told to choose between me and her job’, blah, blah, blah,” I say using my best impression of a male voice.

“Wow, he’s in love with you.” I twist my head toward Kat and shake off what she just said.

“Excuse me, Kat. Where the hell did you get, “he’s in love with you?” I take a breath and groan. “I basically got a promotion because I’m fucking the boss like a common whore!”

“
Jesús Cristo, Cara Bonita!
That’s such bullshit. You deserved that promotion. You’ve been bringing them tons of
dinero
over the past two years!” Maria exclaims.

“But the timing is no coincidence. The boss did it to get into Chase’s good graces.” I slump, my shoulders sagging low. I feel weighted to my seat. The heaviness of what happened with Chase, of how we fought, is crippling.

“So what if he did. You still deserve it. You get the chance to prove it to everyone, including yourself, and Chase!” Bree argues.

I go several more rounds of woe is Gillian and come to the conclusion that I’m going to have to talk to Chase. My cellphone pings, and I pull it out of my purse. It’s Chase. I’m a little surprised it took him this long to contact me.

To: Gillian Callahan

From: Chase Davis

I’m sorry. I still don’t know what happened. Please come to the Penthouse so we can discuss this. I’m lost without you.

That’s the closest thing to an “I love You” I’m going to get right now. I don’t even know if I want him to profess his undying love for me yet. It’s only been a few weeks. The butterflies in my stomach and ache in my heart can only be mended by an egotistical, wealthy, over protective, controlling, breathtakingly good looking, bastard. And he’s all mine.

I kiss and hug each friend as if it’s the last time I will see them. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have them to walk me away from life’s ledges.

We share a round of “
besos
,” and I go hail a taxi. The driver asks me where to.

There’s only one place I need to be right now. “Davis Industries, please.”

Chapter 15

The taxi cab pulls up to the building, and I run to the bank of elevators. Jack is sitting on a bench next to them. He stands when I push the button.

“He’s expecting you,” he says with contempt.

“He made you sit out here and wait, didn’t he?” I already know the answer based on the permanent scowl he’s sporting.

“You don’t have access to the Penthouse. We’re going to rectify that situation now.” He’s clearly irritated. He pulls a small black box from his pocket. It has a LED screen with an outline of a thumb print on it. “Place your right thumb on the panel here,” he points. I do as he asks and the screen scans my thumb. He pulls it back, slides out a tiny keyboard, and enters Gillian Callahan next to the imprint. “As requested by Mr. Davis, you now have unfettered access to the Penthouse.”

“So I can come and go as I please?” 

“Yes, you may. Please consider the fact that he is entrusting you with access to his private quarters. If you bring anyone with you, I must be privy to the information in advance so I can run appropriate background checks.” His tone is flat and unwelcoming.

“Seriously?” He nods. “Did you run a background check on me?”

“Of course.”

“May I see it?”

He shakes his head. “That information was obtained by Mr. Davis. If you want to see yours or anyone involved with you, you’ll have to ask him directly.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean by anyone involved with me?” He can see that I’m less than impressed and getting agitated. I’ve got a hand on my hip and the sucker is cocked, ready for battle.

“Mr. Davis has background checks done on anyone he comes into regular contact with. We’ve done them on a Ms. De La Torre, Ms. Bennett, Ms. Simmons, Mr. Redding, Mr. Parks and a few others.” I close my eyes and breathe deep trying to understand without reacting why he would invade my privacy and the privacy of my friends. “There are plenty of people who would be thrilled if Mr. Davis was seriously damaged, hurt, maimed or dead. As his security advisor, I insist on background checks for all parties he comes into contact with.”

The words “maimed or dead” ring loudly in my ears lessening the initial shock. He does have a point. Being filthy rich comes with disadvantages. “Is that all, Jack?” I blow my bangs out of my eyes. I’m eager to see Chase. I need to clear the air with him.

“No,” he says as his eyes turn hard. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention at that frosty gaze. “That stunt you pulled today on the street was childish and immature.” His tone is scathing.

“Frankly, Jack, that’s none of your business.” I say it with confidence despite knowing, he’s right. It was a bit juvenile.

“Everything involving Mr. Davis is my business. I’ve been there for him since he was seven years old. I have no intention of allowing anyone to hurt him again.” He sounds like an over-protective father.

“You’re not his Father. You’re his bodyguard. He pays you to be there.” I can see that my statement hits home.

“No I’m not. His Father was the devil.” He leaves it at that. “I hope you’re the real deal, Ms. Callahan, because it’s been a very long time since he’s allowed a woman anywhere near his home, let alone his heart. Don’t make him regret it.”