Catch of the Year (16 page)

Maybe he should have told her he loved her.

He stopped dead in his tracks. His head fell back and he gazed at the sky. Damn. He loved her. Exactly when and where it had happened, he didn't know. But he knew it for truth, and that he needed to tell her.

Well hey, he could go after her, couldn't he? He wasn't about to let her run out on him like that. Lucky he knew where she lived. He could drive over to the house, see if she was there. He'd finish packing up his things, load the car, and take a swing by her parents before setting off for the city. Hopefully he'd learn something there, find out what was going on.

• • •

He found Serendipity's mother in her garden, hoeing a patch of leeks. She wore a large straw hat, sandals, and a rainbow-colored caftan. Hearing his footsteps on the path, she looked up.

“Hi.” She wiped her hand on her dress and came forward, smiling at him. “I'm Marigold. You must be Paul.”

“Got it in one.” He took her hand in his. “Serendipity told you about me?”

Marigold nodded. “I'm so sorry. You just missed her.”

“She's already left? I was hoping she'd drive back down with me.”

“Adrian took her over to Fred's.” She indicated across the lake. “Oh, about three quarters of an hour ago.”

Fred? Was he an old flame or even a present one? Paul didn't enjoy the stab of jealousy.

Marigold propped her hands on her hoe. She cocked her head as if listening for something.

“They should be taking off any minute now.”

“Taking off?” Paul echoed.

“Sure. That's Dipity's regular ride. Every fortnight she flies up with him in the float plane. Only, this weekend she made an exception.”

Ah, that gave him some hope, made him feel better.

“On Wednesday it will be Frank and my wedding anniversary. Friday night we had a party.”

So much for thinking she'd come especially to see him. But he wasn't about to give up. “Too bad … uh, I mean, that I just missed her, not the anniversary. Congratulations on that … . Um, could you give me her address and phone number?”

Marigold made a few last scratches with the hoe. She rested her hands on the handle again. “I don't know if Dipity would approve of my doing this, but I'm going to go ahead anyhow.”

“She doesn't like you to garden?”

“No, I meant, she doesn't like me giving out her details.”

“Why not?”

Marigold shrugged. “It's complicated. You'll need to ask her why not.”

He patted his pockets. No phone. He'd have to go the ancient papyrus-and-stylus route. But he didn't have that available either. “Could you lend me a pencil and a piece of paper?”

“Sure. Come inside.” He followed Marigold into the house, dipping his head as he walked in the door. She found a small pad and wrote two series of numbers on it.

He had a bad feeling about all this. Marigold sent him a sympathetic look. She reached out and clasped his hand.

“Don't be too despondent. I intuit she's afraid of her feelings for you. Dipity's good at repressing her emotions.”

He hadn't found her inhibited. Quite the opposite, in fact. But he didn't want to tell her mother that.

She let him go. “I've added our phone number, in any case you need it.”

They went out to the car. Once he was sitting inside, his seat belt safely fastened, she stepped back.

“Have a safe trip. And Paul, keep in touch, see?”

• • •

The return journey was a pain. After he'd managed, miraculously, not to get uptight about the crawling traffic with its stop-start, erratic rhythm, he found he couldn't prevent himself remembering the trip up. Meeting Serendipity. Finding her again. Making love to her.

As the miles went by and he drew nearer to the city, he began to feel somewhat depressed. He put on some of his specially chosen, calming music, and felt marginally better.

After a while, he turned off the highway and drove toward his neighborhood. How strange to see houses huddled close together, hardly any yard around them and busy, brightly lit, downtown streets. Never before had he thought of city life as being unnatural, but now he missed the countryside and the simplicity of his existence over the last little while, up at the lake. He could tell adjusting to being back was not going to be a piece of cake nor even a bite of one of Marigold's marvelous muffins.

At one thirty
A.M.
, he drew up in front of the house he shared with Steve. Too late to call Serendipity. He'd have to wait until tomorrow evening.

• • •

Jade exited her regular Monday-morning meeting with the CEO and other vice presidents with as much dignity as she could muster. Her walk was controlled, neither too fast nor too slow, her outer appearance betraying nothing of how she was feeling. The instructions she'd received had hit her like a head-on crash. Denial, fear, and fury mixed explosively inside her. What she wanted to do was flee screaming out of the agency, out of the building, and race all the way around the block, yelling until she was rid of this anguish that gripped her like a hideous monster. Emotions finally overcoming her, she gulped in a great gasp of air and rushed toward the women's washroom. The gagging sensation tearing at her throat and gut sent her into a cold sweat. If she wasn't mistaken, she was about to throw up, something she hadn't done since she was a teenager and had eaten her first oyster, which had been rotten.

The metal doorknob felt cold in her hand. She wrenched it around, shoved the door open, and made for the sink. Icy water would help. Opening the tap, she splashed at her temples and wrists, uncaring that she was wetting her chic, expensive, silk shirt. Another wave of nausea hit her. She clung on to the sides of the vanity and hung her head.

Behind her, someone came in. Jade heard the door swish shut and felt the slight pressure of a comforting hand on her back. Warm, human comfort. Whoever it was, she was grateful.

Suzy's soft voice asked, “Jade, what's wrong? I saw you dash in here, looking like death. Can I help? What's going on?”

“Oh Suzy. I feel like I'm going to throw up.”

“That's what
I'm
supposed to be doing, not you.” Suzy's worried face appeared next to hers in the mirror. “Unless … you're not pregnant are you?”

Jade shook her head. She didn't want to go there, consider the opportunity she'd passed up, not even in thought. It was unlikely she'd be in a position to fall pregnant ever again. She couldn't imagine getting involved with another man. Not after Paul.

“Here, take some of this.”

Suzy held up a small, brown phial with a dropper at one end and a yellow label. Rescue Remedy. Jade recognized it immediately as one of the natural medicines Marigold used. Suzy grabbed a paper cup from the stack in the corner of the vanity, poured half an inch of water into it and added five drops from the bottle.

“Rescuing is what I need. Thanks.” Jade threw it down her throat. Almost immediately she felt better, steadier.

Suzy leaned one hip against the edge of the vanity. “So tell Aunt Suzy. What happened?”

Maybe talking about the situation would help. Jade looked at her watch. Twenty before noon. For once she would relax her self-imposed discipline. She had to escape.

“Can we get out of here? Go to lunch a few minutes early?”

“Sure. I'll grab my purse and meet you outside.”

At their usual restaurant, the maitre d' looked surprised. He picked up two menus and came toward them, smiling and nodding his head in a kind of bow as he spoke. “Ladies, it's Monday, not Wednesday. Are you trying to make the week rearrange itself?”

Jade managed a feeble smile.

Suzy rescued her. She grabbed Jade's elbow, urging her forward, all the while talking to the maitre d'. “Emergency today. We need coffee straightaway.”

“Of course,” he murmured and showed them to a quiet corner. Then he went off to give instructions to their waiter.

When they were settled, with Jade sitting with her back to the room, Suzy said, “All right. This is better. Now tell.”

Jade took a deep breath. In a deliberate movement, she closed her eyes and then opened them again. No, this wasn't a nightmare. Unfortunately, the world hadn't gone back to what it was a little more than two weeks ago. This was reality, and she was in deep, deep trouble.

“In the meeting, I heard … was informed” — she took a sip from the waiting glass of iced water — “that I have to terminate P — er, some people.”

“Oh my. So, the downsizing rumors were true.”

Her lips pressed together, Jade nodded.

“Are you allowed to tell who, exactly?”

Jade gripped the edge of the table. “Everyone will know soon enough this afternoon, so, why not?” She gave the name of two employees, then, taking in a quick gulp of air, added, “And Paul Johnson.”

“Hmm. Paul R.G., too, huh?” Suzy's bracelets jingled as she rested her elbows on the table and considered the information. “What a shame. I'll sure miss my daily dose of that dimple … . But I don't mean to be shallow. This is sad.”

“Yeah.” For Jade, sad wasn't the word. Tragic, panicked, that's how she was feeling. As if her emotions would make any difference. “I haven't had to do anything like this before. I don't know how I'm going to handle it.”

Suzy looked puzzled. “I know it's a really unpleasant task, but you can do it, Jade. You're a professional. A good businesswoman.”

Jade chewed her lip. “I know. I am. At least, I thought I was. Partly I think I feel so bad because of projection. It's like playing on my own fears.”

“How so?”

“Family history. My parents were young when I was born and completely into the hippie thing. Although it's been different since Adrian came along, for the longest time they were pretty irresponsible. And always broke. We moved around a lot, even though our old car was forever breaking down. I was young, but I was always worried we wouldn't make it.”

“Ah. I understand.”

Jade took a breath. Her fingers fiddled with the cutlery. Now that she'd started, she wanted to let it all out. “But that's not all.”

Suzy cocked her head.

“You see” — Jade looked up — “the biggest problem is, this is Paul.”

Suzy's expression showed even more puzzlement. “Apart from the fact he's totally hot, why so?”

“He's Peter.”

“Peter is Paul?” Suzy screwed up her face. “Jade, you're not making sense.”

Jade gripped her hands together. How hard it was to reveal her indiscretion, but for her own sanity, she had to talk about it. “The guy I told you about.”

“Oh yeah. The good hard man.” Suzy gave a small smile and plucked the napkin from the bowl of the wine glass.

“I lied. His name isn't Peter; it's Paul.”

“
Our
Paul?” She flicked the cream damask square, opening it so it waved like a banner. “Old killer dimple R.G. himself?”

Jade nodded miserably.

Suzy sat back, grasping the napkin and plunking her hands into her lap. “Holy moly. Guess some people are born lucky.”

Jade had to smile at her uncharacteristic reaction. “And this from the happily married Suzy Wu.”

Her friend ignored that.

“By the way,” she leaned forward and peered into Jade's face. “Did you find out what the initials stand for?”

“Yes. I did.”

“And?”

In answering, Jade found herself melting into reminiscences. When she came back to the moment, she fisted her hands. If she weren't wearing her wig, she would have clutched at her hair. “Now you know why I'm a basket case.”

“Have you seen him yet? Today, I mean.”

“Passed him in the passage.” Jade stretched out her hands, palms up. “Oh Suzy, what am I going to do?”

Suzy took a while to think about that. “First of all, you'll have to tell Paul he's let go. No way around it. But I'd say you need to forget you've broken the corporate rule and dated a fellow employee. Keep things separate, just as you've done up until now. Otherwise, I can't say. Looks like there's trouble ahead. But then, life can't ever be all smooth sailing.”

The waitress brought their salads.

Suzy picked up her fork and added. “In the meantime, there is one small piece of advice I can give you.”

“What's that?”

“Remember the song about not taking it bad?”

She waved her fork as if it were a baton and started to sing.

Surprise held Jade still. Then she began to chuckle and felt a little better. She too picked up her fork. If she had to do this dreadful deed it would be better not to faint from hunger. Before returning to the agency, she'd go to the washroom. There, she'd give herself a pep talk, repair the damage, put on a mask, and prepare to give her darling Paul the axe.

• • •

Although most of his work was done on the computer, Paul often found it helpful to revert to the old way of sketching. As his pen moved easily on the paper, his mind wandered, almost catching the inspiration he was fishing for. So far today, nothing exactly brilliant had swum toward him. If he flung his net wide for a while, he was sure to come up with a few new ideas. Or not. Creativity, it seemed, was no bedfellow to bewilderment.

Why had Serendipity disappeared, gone without any warning, without any kind of good-bye? On Friday night, when she'd appeared out of the blue, he'd been so caught up in the magic of the moment he'd forgotten to ask how she'd arrived. Now he was left feeling like Prince Charming with no Cinderella. He didn't even have a glass slipper as a souvenir. Only memories of one wonderful weekend. Or rather, two.

Had he scared her off somehow?

His thoughts were interrupted by a kind of rustling that wafted over the open-plan office, a change in atmosphere that heralded something was happening. He noticed two people heading from Jade Jellicoe's office to the lunchroom, looking distressed. Before he could investigate, though, a woman's approach distracted him. She stopped at his desk. Serendipity? The embodiment of his fantasies? Surely he was dreaming. Hallucinating at the very least. Yes, dammit. It wasn't Serendipity, but Jade Jellicoe. How was it possible his boss's outward appearance was so similar to Serendipity's, her facial features and figure almost exactly alike, yet she displayed none of his love's sweetness, spontaneity, or sense of fun?