Authors: April Lynn Kihlstrom
I’d hardly finished the thought when the door
opened. It was Charles, and he stood for a
moment, just staring at me. Then he said, “Ellen?
Are you all right? You looked a little flushed and,
when I saw you come in here, I wondered if you
were feeling ill.”
“I, uh, I’m fine,” I said nervously. “It was just
rather hot and crowded out there.”
Charles nodded, then came in, closing the door
behind him. As I watched, he came over and sat
down next to me. “Ellen” - his voice sounded very
odd to me “I’ve been meaning to give you this all
evening, but I haven’t had a chance. You’ve been
surrounded by people.” (So he had known where I
was had cared.) He was placing a package in my
hands, saying, “A New Year’s present. I thought
you might like it.”
Even as my hands automatically unwrapped the
gift, I felt a chill, almost as if I knew what I would
find. I looked down at the box as I fumbled it
open. And suddenly felt dizzy. It was… it was a
sapphire bracelet. I felt an intense sense of deja vu.
Of course. The scene with Rick and the sapphire
earrings flashed through my head.
Charles’s voice broke into my thoughts, anx ious. “Ellen? Is something wrong? Don’t you like
it?”
“The earrings,” I said dazedly, wondering if he
would understand what I meant.
He did. “Damn the earrings!” he swore. “I
bought the bracelet because I wanted to give you
something I thought you might like. And you did
seem to like sapphires.” Then, with some exasperation, he said, “I’ve never known a woman to
be angry about a gift before!”
I was on my feet then, heading for the door,
calling over my shoulder, “Maybe you’ve known
the wrong women!”
But before I reached the door, it opened and my
friend of the evening, carrying champagne and
glasses, looked at us with obvious surprise.
“What…?”
Charles was the first to recover. He moved past
me and, placing a hand on the fellow’s chest,
pushed my friend out the door and closed it,
saying, “Sorry. This is a private discussion.”
When the door was closed, I said quietly, “We
have nothing more to say.”
Charles stared at me, his mouth set in a grim
line, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned
against the door. “I take it you were expecting
him?”
“And if I was?” I demanded. “What business is it
of yours?”
“None,” he admitted frankly, “and you’re
perfectly welcome to go find him after we’ve
finished our discussion.”
I turned my back on Charles and stooped to
pick up the bracelet from where I had dropped it. Carefully, I placed it back in the box. As I handed
it back to him, Charles said acidly, “I see. You’ll
keep Rick’s earrings but not my bracelet. You’ve
got very strange notions of honor!”
Too angry to deny it, I said, “I have nothing
further to discuss with you, Mr. Whitford.”
“No?” he said evenly. “That’s odd, because I
have a great deal to say to you.”
“Please!” I said. “I don’t want to hear it! Just let
me leave!”
“No.”
We glared at each other. Then Charles took a
step forward, reaching for my arm. I started to
move to the side and froze as the door opened
again. Charles had hold of my arm by the time
Edna’s cool voice reached us. “Really, you two! If
you must argue, don’t do it here. Your voices carry
quite well, you know.”
Charles straightened, dropping my arm. “Yes,
you’re quite right, Mrs. Iveson. This isn’t the place
for it.” He looked at both of us, then said, “If you
will excuse me.”
We both nodded, and Edna moved out of his
way. As soon as he was gone, Edna said, “You
look as if you need to cool off, Ellen. Shall I
disappear?”
I smiled a bit grimly. “If you don’t mind.”
She smiled, nodded, and left. As the door closed
behind her, I felt myself growing unreasonably
angry. At Charles, for retreating so easily. At
Edna, for interrupting. Never mind that I had said
I didn’t want to talk to Charles. Now that he was
gone, I found that I did. I paced, trying to shake off the feeling that Charles was treating me the way
Rick had.
A few minutes later, the door opened again. It
was my friend with the champagne bottle and
glasses. He paused in the doorway, saying
hesitantly, “Can I come in?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but came in and
shut the door. His voice was full of concern as he
said, “You look upset! Who was that before? Or
shouldn’t I ask?”
Feeling unable to explain, I said, “Someone I
work for.”
“Ohhh!” He nodded wisely. “The old boss-afterthe-pretty-secretary bit, right?”
“Except that I’m a computer programmer,” I
reminded him, rather grimly.
He laughed. “Hey, I know. I’m the guy who
understands, remember?”
I nodded, suddenly feeling a little better.
“That’s right.” I paused. Then, as he handed me a
glass, I said, “You know, I don’t even know your
name. Mine’s Ellen. Ellen Steffee.”
Time must have been playing tricks on me,
because I could have sworn it was several seconds
before he said, “Didn’t I tell you? I’m Ralph.
Ralph Carden. With an e, not an i. Unlike the
French designer. Although,” he said, raising his
eyebrows, “I have been known to have designs.”
I laughed and teased him, “Really? What kind of
designs?”
He only shrugged and laughed. “C’mon, let’s
open the wine. I guarantee you’ll like it!”
Actually, the bottle was already open and, I assumed, Ralph must have gotten it from one of
the many waiters around. I carefully chose a seat
on the other side of the table from Ralph as he
poured out two glasses.
Handing me one, he said, “It’s almost midnight.
A toast. To us. And to interesting designs?” he
added, with a smile.
I shook my head. “To the New Year.”
Ralph hesitated, then shrugged. “To the New
Year.”
He downed half his glass in that first toast, then
looked at me expectantly. For some reason, I was
irritated. I didn’t want to waste my time flirting
with this young man, no matter how attractive and
how nice he seemed. I was sure he had only one
thing on his mind, and I just wasn’t interested. I
emptied my glass quickly and set it down.
Ralph immediately refilled it. His hand rested
over the top, for a moment, before he handed it
back to me. I shook my head. “Why not?” he asked
sharply.
In that moment, I knew Ralph took this game
seriously, too seriously. And I knew that I might
have trouble getting out of the room. But I had to
and fast. I smiled at Ralph, “Why not indeed?”
He relaxed as I took the glass but still sat
forward in his chair. I smiled again and drank
deeply. “It’s marvelous, Ralph. Just the thing to go
with, um, creative designs.”
He really relaxed then. I drank some more, since
he seemed to expect it, then said softly, “I do think,
though, that you’ll have to excuse me. Just for a
few minutes?”
My voice was persuasive and he said, “Of
course.”
Slowly, lazily, I walked to the door. Ralph held
it open for me, then closed it behind me.
My timing was remarkable. Before I had gone
three feet, midnight struck. Two men tried to kiss
me. As I dodged the second one, Edna touched my
arm. “Ellen! Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes. No. I’m not sure,” I said, amazed to find
that it was true.
“Oh, dear. If I could find Greg…But I’m not
quite sure…”
“Please,” I said quickly, “I don’t want to cause
trouble. I’m sure I’ll be fine if I just get a little air.”
She looked a little relieved and then someone
claimed her attention. So I slipped away. I was still
too close to the study, and I didn’t want Ralph to
find me. So I went outside. I felt a little better
there. It was a beautiful, clear night, and I didn’t
mind the chill. I took a few steps down the drive,
past a couple of cars, feeling safer here than inside,
where Ralph, by now, must be looking for me.
It didn’t occur to me to be afraid until a man
stepped out of the shadows. I turned, ready to run
for the house, when the light hit his face, and I
realized it was Charles. He just stood and stared at
me and the memory of everything that had
happened suddenly seemed overwhelming. My
face must have gone pale at that moment, as I felt a
wave of nausea wash over me.
Charles seemed to jump forward and grab my
arm. “Ellen! Are you all right?”
All right, except for feeling like a fool, I wanted to say. But I only lied. “Yes, of course I’m all right.
You just startled me.”
“What are you doing out here? Alone?” he
demanded.
I must have been crazy, because I said,
“Walking back to the Ivesons’.”
From the way Charles looked at me, I knew he
thought I was out of my mind. “And the Ivesons?”
he asked, incredulous. “I suppose you’re going to
tell me they approve?”
“I didn’t tell them.”
Charles swore under his breath, then irrationally demanded, “Where’s your friend?”
I didn’t misunderstand, but I didn’t answer,
either. I was too busy trying to keep from being
sick. “You’re drunk!” he said in disgust.
“No!” I protested. “I only had two glasses of
wine the whole evening.”
“Then I suggest,” he retorted unsympathetically, “that you give up wine altogether!”
Since I was rapidly reaching the same conclusion myself, I didn’t bother to answer. The next
moment, I was sick. Charles helped hold my hair
back, then offered me his handkerchief to wipe my
face. “I’m sorry,” I found myself saying, rather
incoherently, “I just feel so tired. It must have been
the champagne. I’m just so tired.”
Charles started shaking me. “Ellen! You’ve got
to stay awake, Ellen. C’mon, we’ll walk back to the
Ivesons’ house.”
I was too tired to care or understand why
Charles had suddenly changed his mind. I started walking. As we walked, he demanded, “Who was
with you when you drank the wine? Could anyone
have drugged it?”
For a moment, that shocked me sober. Then I
was dizzy again. “The designer,” I said foolishly.
“Ralph.”
Charles started to ask me something but
stopped as a car pulled up alongside us. “It’s your
friend,” Charles said softly to me. “Is that Ralph?”
I looked up in horror. It was. “There you are!”
he greeted me happily. “I couldn’t imagine where
you’d gotten to!” To Charles, he said, “She must
have forgotten I said I’d take her home. But then,
five glasses of the bubbly stuff will do that to you.”
He winked at Charles. “Can I give you a lift, too?”
Charles glanced at my face, then said shortly,
“Thanks, but we’re walking.”
“Hey, let her answer for herself!” Ralph
protested.
I leaned closer to Charles and tried to sound
adamant. “We’re walking.”
For a moment, Ralph looked furious. Then he
lashed out at me, “That’s right. He’s the one with
the money, isn’t he!”
Before I could answer, Ralph’s car shot forward
and away. Charles’s face beside me was set and
grim. “Charles, that’s not-”
“Forget it!” His voice was angry, and the lines
on his face deepened. And he didn’t ask any more
questions.
After what seemed forever, we reached the
Ivesons’ house only to find it locked up. Charles insisted we wait on the patio together for their
return. In spite of the cold, and the hardness of the
chairs, I laid my head on the patio table and fell
asleep.
Consciousness. A hammering in my head.
All-pervading noise. Nausea. Dryness in my
mouth. Slowly, I opened my eyes. And winced. I’d
never had a hangover before, but somehow I knew
this qualified as one. I closed my eyes again and
tried to think. Just how much had I had to drink
last night? I couldn’t remember. The whole
evening was a haze. Especially the last half of it. I
had only the vaguest memory of Edna putting me
to bed. At least I hoped it had been Edna!
It was useless. I simply couldn’t remember what
had happened. Maybe coffee would help. Carefully, I sat up. Not carefully enough, it seemed,
because the whole room rocked around me. Then it settled back in place, and the noises I heard
began to resolve themselves. A maid was cleaning
the room next to mine, and the light came from
curtains hastily, inadequately, drawn the night
before. The time was late morning. Probably too
late for breakfast, I thought sourly. Which was
perhaps just as well, considering the state of my
stomach. But I still had to face the Ivesons; I could
imagine what they must be thinking!
Somehow, I eventually made it to the patio.
Edna was there alone. I needn’t have worried. She
took one look at my face, smiled sympathetically,
and rang for the maid. I listened, dazed, as she
ordered coffee, juice, and toast for me. Anticipating my protest, Edna said, “It really will make you
feel better, you know.”
She was tactfully quiet while I forced myself to
eat. It did help. When all but the coffee had been
cleared away, I tried an apology. “I’m very sorry
about this, Edna. I”