His Name Is Sir (The Power to Please #3) (35 page)

He headed to the door, Elaine trailing behind him. When he was standing in the doorway, he turned to her and asked, “Have you had any contact with Michael?”

“No, he won’t answer my calls. Or Ron’s.”

“If he contacts any of you, or he returns here, call me immediately. You still have my cell number?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Thank you.”

He gave me one last, unreadable glance, then turned and was gone without another word to her ... or me.

Elaine closed the door then said, “There, that’s a good man to have on your side. If anyone can take care of this, it’s him.”

“I don’t know. He may be exactly the wrong person for it. Michael really, really hates him.”

She shrugged. “I bet the feeling’s mutual. It’s okay, Nonnie. Between all of us, we’ll figure it out.”

I almost wished everyone would quit telling me that. Didn’t they see how bad this was? How impossible to fix? I didn’t say that, though, realizing Elaine was just trying to make me feel better. Not her fault that I was losing my mind. Not her fault that I had lost everything, Gibson included.

Ron arrived not long after Gibson departed. I welcomed his booming presence and his thunderous rant.

He gave me a quick hug then went on a tear. “That son of a bitch. Bastard won’t return my calls. I sent Joe over to his place to see if he’s home, but if he is, he’s not letting anyone up.”

Elaine and I sat on the couch.

She said in an aside, “Joe is Ron’s assistant.”

We watched the big man march around the room.

Ron said, “He’s lying low, that’s what. Sorry bastard. A real tough guy with the little girls, but I call him out and he goes running like the coward he is. He’s through in this town, if I have anything to say about it.”

Something about his furious ranting was calming me, soothing some of my frayed nerves, his outrage a consolation.

He ran a hand through his already ruffled brown hair. “Don’t know what the hell he thought he was doing. If I get my hands on him, so help me God, I will rip off his ...”

Elaine interjected, “We get it, Ron,” then she made a motion with her head toward me.

Ron looked at me, then deflated some. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I got worked up.”

I said, “It’s okay. I actually feel a little better.”

He smiled, looking like a friendly bear with his thick beard and barrel chest. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t you worry about it. That son of a bitch is going to ...”

“Okay, we know,” interrupted Elaine again.

“Right, well, anyway,” he meandered over to a chair and flopped down, alarming me for a moment that his bulk might shatter my cheap furniture. Not that I cared about the furniture. I just didn’t want the man who had so vehemently defended me finding himself on the floor because I couldn’t afford better stuff.

And I was unlikely to ever be able to afford better stuff, I thought, my mood plummeting again. I didn’t have a job anymore. I tried to stiffen my resolve, but I didn’t have much strength left in me.

I said, “I’ve got to make a call. I have to resign my job. It’ll only take a minute. Please, get something to drink, or if you’re hungry, see if you can find something in the kitchen. I’ll be back.”

They nodded solemnly then I found my phone and went to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I called Isabel.

“Hi,” I said when she answered. “Just wanted to let you know that I’ve decided to resign.”

“I’m glad. That’s the best thing. You’ll be back here in no time,” she said, her demeanor crisp and efficient, her usual self.

“Yes, well ... I need to know ... do you know if anyone else, other than you and Frank Linton, if anyone else watched those DVDs?”

She hesitated, then said, “I’m not sure. Only Tracy Souter had opened the package, and he said he didn’t have a chance to watch it before I came in, but ...”

“Yeah, but.” Tracy Souter. Head of Marketing. Huge gossip. I shuddered at the thought of him watching me on that video. “Don’t protect me, Isabel. Does everybody know? Is it all over the office about me?”

“I’ve noticed some whispering. I don’t know for sure.”

I knew for sure. I remembered how Stephanie didn’t speak to me when I left the office. Stephanie always spoke to me; she spoke to everyone, couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She had probably heard about the video before I did. Heard it at lunch, perhaps, gossiping with co-workers. Undoubtedly.

I suddenly felt very, very tired. I slumped onto the edge of my bed. “I can’t come back, Isabel. Not ever.”

“You don’t know that. Not yet.”

“I do. I feel it.”

She said, “Hold on a minute.”

I waited, wondering what she might be doing, imagining the chain of events when Tracy opened that package and saw the DVD. He wouldn’t have been able to resist it, and he had easy access to a television and a DVD player in his department.

At least he didn’t have the disk anymore, so he couldn’t show it to anyone else. But what if he wrote down the Web site address and the access code on the label before Isabel confiscated the DVD? If he did, everyone in the office would be able to watch the video.

I thought I might be sick again, not that there was anything left in my stomach for me to throw up.

No, I told myself. Who would have thought to write down the Web site address? He surely couldn’t have visited the site on one of the company computers since I was certain porn sites were blocked. He would have a smart phone, though. Could he have looked it up on that? He wouldn’t need to write the address down, then, since the address would be stored in the browser history.

My head pounded from the crazed speculation.

Isabel came back on the line. “I spoke to Geary. Made him tell me if he’d heard any rumors today.” She paused, then said, “I’m sorry, Nonnie.”

It was like a knife in my gut. Confirmation of what I already knew. I said, “You tried. Thank you for that.”

“You can still come back. It’s only rumors.”

“They don’t need the DVD. They can find the video online.”

She blew out a long breath. “I’d like to think they wouldn’t, even if they could. We’ll wait it out. It will blow over.”

I knew it wouldn’t. I could never work with those people again. It was impossible.

I said, “I want to thank you for being my mentor, Isabel. You’ve meant so much to me, and standing by me like this when I’ve disappointed ... I can’t say how much ...” my voice broke. I couldn’t finish.

“You haven’t disappointed me, Nonnie Crawford,” she said briskly. “It’s not possible. You’re a good girl and it’s been a pleasure working with you and ...” then her voice broke, too.

She cleared her throat. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. We’ll see how this plays out. I’ll keep your job open.”

I knew better than to argue with her; she wouldn’t bend. So I said, “Thank you.”

She told me she’d messenger my things to me, then reminded me to call her if I needed any help with bills while I was waiting. I told her I wouldn’t forget, all the while knowing I would never ask her for a handout.

We said goodbye to each other. And I wondered if I’d ever see her again.

When I returned to the living room, Ron and Elaine gave me silent looks that asked how it went. I shrugged. It went. I didn’t want to talk about it, and they didn’t push me.

I sat down, feeling at loose ends. What next? Sit here and wait for the end? What was the end? I had no idea what I should do next.

Ron said, “Well, why don’t you girls go get packed up and we’ll head out.”

I gave him a questioning look.

He said, “You’re coming home with Lainey and me. It’s all settled.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t put you out like that. There’s no reason to ...”

Ron’s thick brows drew together. “You can’t stay here alone, not with that asshole still on the loose.” His face relaxed. “And darlin’, there’s no way I could sleep on that little couch of yours. My feet’d hang off the end, or my head one. I’m too old for that. You’ll just have to come on home with us.”

Elaine said, all earnestness, “We’ve got plenty of room, more than plenty. And the kids are off at college, so you won’t have them buggin’ you. We’ll get you set up in one of the spare rooms.”

I looked from one to the other. Their faces were both kind and firm. They wouldn’t accept a refusal. And truth to tell, I didn’t actually want to tell them no, only felt that I should.

I didn’t want to be alone. I was tired, and scared, unsure of everything. An emotional wreck. That these two people wanted to take me in was far more than I felt I deserved. My vision blurred, but I blinked back the tears.

I nodded, and managed to say, “Thank you. I’d like that.”

And then they gifted me with smiles, pleased that I accepted.

It didn’t take long to pack up my things, not with Elaine’s bustling help. I was unsure how long I’d be gone, what all I might need, but Elaine sorted that out, telling me that whatever I forgot, she was sure they had, or could get for me.

Ron hauled everything down to his truck, so I didn’t even have to heft around my own luggage. At the last minute, I remembered Isabel was sending a messenger, so I texted her and asked her to send my things to the Hoytes’ address.

I stuffed the DVDs, including the one from my player, into my laptop case. Ron and Elaine waited in the hall while I took a last look over the apartment, checking for what I might have missed.

I stood in the open doorway and had a flash of the first time Michael came to my apartment. I had been so nervous, and he had teased me about my pants. I remembered that he hadn’t been there five minutes before he told me that I belonged to him, that I had given myself to him.

And I remembered how, less than two weeks later when I dumped him, I believed I reclaimed myself. Believed I belonged to me again.

I hadn’t known Michael had already stolen everything, that there was nothing left to reclaim.

Nothing left of me.

Chapter 19

Elaine convinced me to take a nap once we put all of my things away in the lovely room they provided for me, but I couldn’t sleep. I was worn out and keyed up at the same time, unable to stay put in one place for long.

I gave up trying to rest and joined Elaine in her big kitchen and insisted she allow me to help cook. It would take my mind off of things, I told her, so she gave in.

She said Ron was in his office, phoning everyone he knew who also knew Michael, hoping for any clue to help track him down. I felt certain Michael was holed up in his apartment, ignoring the Hoytes’ calls.

When Elaine called Ron to dinner, the tight expression on his face told me all I needed to know: no luck reaching Michael. I thanked him for trying and told him I wished he wouldn’t go to so much trouble.

He patted me on my head and sat down at the dining table, digging into the comfort food that Elaine and I (mostly Elaine, since I was a terrible cook), had prepared.

I picked at my food, unable to eat. I still had bouts of nausea that welled up whenever I allowed an image from the videos to pop up in my mind.

When we were finished, we cleaned up the dishes. No sooner had we dried the last plate than the doorbell rang. It was a messenger with a small box for me, my belongings from work. I took the box to my room, opened it and glanced inside. There wasn’t much in there. It made me sad, so I put the lid back on, shoved it in one of the dresser drawers, then returned downstairs.

Ron had gone back into his office and Elaine suggested we give each other manicures, the kind of silly, mindless task that suited me. We sat at the kitchen table and filed our nails and pushed back cuticles and debated colors of polish.

I watched Elaine shake the small bottle of pale pink polish, and said, “I feel like I should be doing something, something that will fix things.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. I need to do something, but there’s nothing I can do.”

She opened the bottle and pulled out the tiny brush. “It’s a hard thing, feeling helpless.”

I nodded.

“Sometimes,” she said, “the only thing you can do is be patient and wait.”

“I’m lousy at patience. Isabel’s always telling me ...” I stopped. It struck me anew that I didn’t have Isabel in my life anymore. I said, “It doesn’t matter. I just suck, that’s all.”

Elaine patted my hand gently. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that it’s amazing what people can handle when they have to. You’ll handle this, Nonnie. I know you will.”

She brushed a coat of polish over one of my nails, and without looking up, said, “You told me that Michael secretly filmed you and him together, but I’m getting the sense that there’s more to the story.”

I stiffened, and thought, yes there’s more. Three men worth of more. “I don’t think I can talk about it. I’m sorry.”