Undertow (25 page)

I remembered Bill in high school timidly approaching me about drawing up his ideas. His face had been so young, his blue eyes so round, when he’d asked. I think he was expecting me to bite his head off, but I’d said yes without hesitation. Was it possible I’d always been in love with him?

Now I would be front and center at the grand unveiling for his dream. The media would snap pictures of all of us cutting the ribbon and sealing the fate of our once-peaceful stretch of beach. A fate I’d always fought against—until he’d asked me to stop fighting.

Apparently there was no limit to what I’d do for him. I smiled bitterly and told Bryant I’d be there.

Dec. 21, 19--

How can I write what happened here on paper? My hands still shake, and my heart is like lead in my throat when I even think of how it went down. When I remember the warning signs I completely ignored.

The ribbon cutting was the first big neon warning sign that I needed to go, to get far away from here, and I ignored it. Somehow at that event I’d ended up alone with Bill. We were in the elevator, and I’d simply touched him, caught my balance by holding his shoulder, and that was all it took. I kissed him in a way that… god, I probably would’ve done it right there in the elevator with him. I was just so weak and tired from fighting my feelings. He looked so good, and I wanted him so badly. We were nearly caught by Bryant and a crew of media professionals.

The whole situation still makes me cringe.

And I can just see how it would’ve played out in the news—me in a clench with my boss, the most important developer on the coast, my best friend’s husband, and the father of my illegitimate child. It would’ve been the scoop of the decade, and it would’ve ruined us all.

Yet I still didn’t leave. I still stayed.

A few months later, Julian was born…

I wouldn’t even allow myself to remember that night, Bill’s visit, the things he said and how I felt. It evokes a whole new level of pain. I forced myself to dismiss it as a surge of paternal emotion on his part. I simply had to.

Instead, I focused all my extra attention and energy on my little boy. The sleepless nights filled with longing and tears finally passed, and I managed to get myself under control again. Julian was a beautiful little boy, happy and energetic. He was dark like my dad. My mother had been fair, but my father gave me my dark hair and eyes along with my fantastic name. He had flair, the sisters at Little Flower had said. But Julian’s eyes were all Bill’s. Bright blue and sparkling.

For two years, I’d reported exclusively to Bryant. It was a good arrangement, and I regretted the unkind things I’d said about his boisterous personality in the past. Bryant was a good guy. I didn’t know what he thought about my going from working so closely with Bill to reporting only to him and coming in strictly after hours. I suppose he accredited it to my “artistic temperament,” but he never said a word and was always cheerful and upbeat. He also never asked about Julian’s father, and as far as I knew, he was content to work with me in whatever way I chose. I found myself appreciating Bryant more and more as the years passed. I’d underestimated him.

So when I arrived at the company Christmas party, I was disappointed he and Donna wouldn’t be there. They were home with their little boy, who had a fever. It wasn’t anything serious, but Bryant fussed over his little son like he was the only baby in the world. It was endearing. Bryant decided to name him Brad because it closely matched his own name. He didn’t believe in juniors, he said. He’d also been telling us all about Brad’s future as a football star, and I hoped the little guy was prepared to live up to his big daddy’s expectations.

I wore a red dress in honor of the season, and my hair was pulled back from my face. Meg had suggested I take Julian to stay with the twins at Gigi’s, but I’d opted to get my own babysitter at my house instead. I wasn’t planning to stay late, and though Gigi was a dear, I didn’t feel right leaving Julian with her.

I’d resolved to pretend like nothing had happened between Bill and me, believing that as time passed, I would forget him. It was the only solution that might work if I weren’t going to leave, and I actually thought maybe it would protect me.

Meg ran straight to me when she and Bill arrived, and she looked like a snow angel in a light blue dress and white cashmere sweater. Her long blonde hair streamed down her back, and it was pulled up on each side in sparkling silver combs. I was glad to see her happy. Bill hung back, but I smiled and gave him a small nod. He responded with a tight smile, and I watched him take a scotch off a passing tray.

Phoenician I had been our first project, and we were so cautious back then. It had the most conservative design of them all. Inside it could’ve been any fancy hotel in any major city throughout the United States, but I was still proud of it.

Tonight, the enormous ballroom was decorated with twinkle lights, gold and silver. Tables were piled high with elaborate decorations and all varieties of finger foods. Waiters were circulating with small trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne. A jazz band played swinging Christmas standards, and many of the guests were dancing.

After making the rounds a few times and grabbing another glass of champagne, I decided to visit my office. When we relocated everything, the guys had given me an office with a gorgeous view of the ocean. They called it repayment for bringing their dreams to life, but I think that overstated my involvement. I simply sketched out what Bill described.

I stood by my table looking at the interiors I’d been working on all week. The final phase, a large conference center with two hundred meeting rooms and a patio area facing the ocean. I’d decided it would be the last thing I did for Kyser-Brennan Equities. I had to get out of this rut. I needed to do different things, meet different people. I was considering my next move when I realized I wasn’t alone.

“Who’s there?” I strained my eyes to make out the figure, back-lit in the bright hall lights. It was Bill.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “I saw you leave, and there was something I wanted to give you.”

I was instantly on edge. Despite my resolve, I didn’t trust us alone together, and the uptick in my pulse at having him so close was the primary reason. “Can whatever it is wait until Monday? I was actually heading back to the party.”

“It’s just… I have a little gift for Julian.” He’d been walking toward me, and now we were standing by my drawing table facing each other. “I don’t know what he likes, but I picked this up the other day.”

I took the small package from him, my eyes growing warm. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He nodded, and his eyes moved to my sketches. “They’re perfect as always. I wanted to let you know you captured the exact feel we were trying to get with the conference center. Not too stuffy and business-like. Professional, but still at the beach.”

I smiled, looking down, pleased as always and glad to change the subject. “I guess I’ve known you guys long enough to be able to read your minds.”

“Bryant said you were making this your last job with us.” I looked up and he was watching me, studying my face, his eyebrows pulled together. “I just wanted to know why. Did you get another offer? Are you moving? Do you need more money?”

“No,” I shook my head, looking away again. “It’s nothing like that. I want to get back to fine art. All this corporate stuff… I’ve been doing interiors so long, I feel like I’m stifled, and well, that’s all. I’m not moving far. I was thinking Darplane or something like that.”

He nodded. “I’m glad. I was afraid you were going to take Julian away. And, well, I know I don’t see him much, but I’d like to keep up with him. He’s a cute little guy.”

“I wouldn’t take him away without telling you first,” I said quietly. “Giving you a chance to say goodbye.”

We didn’t speak, but he leaned forward almost imperceptibly, inhaling. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other,” he said.

Instantly, my skin was humming, and I knew it was time to go. “That’s for the best, I think.”

“I miss how we would talk.” I could hear his smile, but I wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You said something about smell and memory once. For a while, I was afraid I’d forgotten the scent of your hair, and I thought if I could just get close enough one more time…”

My eyes flickered to his face, and I saw him smiling sadly. It twisted the pain in my chest. “I’d better get back to the party,” I said.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He straightened up. “I just wanted to say Merry Christmas.”

I nodded. “Merry Christmas.”

He leaned in for a hug, and I should’ve run away. But I moved in the wrong direction. All the time that had passed, almost two years, yet the instant we touched it all came rushing back. He kissed my head, and I pulled him closer pressing my cheek to his chest. The warmth of his body filled the space in my heart that had ached for him for so long.

He leaned back and gently cupped my face in his hands. So much tenderness in his eyes, it broke my heart. I couldn’t stop him as he bent down to kiss me gently. It would have been too cruel. I kissed him back. Our lips parted, and it was like a sip of cool water after a long day in the hot sun. Such a relief. He moved closer to kiss the side of my face, my neck and my hair. I tightened my arms around him, resting my head on his shoulder and inhaling deeply.

So sweet, so sad. I wished with everything in me there was a way to change things. And when I opened my eyes, there she was.

Meg was standing motionless in the backlight of the hallway watching us.

My eyes flew wide as I pushed Bill away. “Meg! It’s not what you think.”

She didn’t move, and even in the backlight I could see the betrayal on her face, her body trembling. I took two steps toward her, and she backed away.

“Meg…” I could barely whisper her name as I took another step. She turned and ran, and I stopped at the door, trying to catch my breath, reeling from the shock.

Dec. 23, 19--

My body is strangely calm as I write this. It’s almost like I knew, that day in March, when I documented the events that led us to this place, this day was coming.

Just like on that day, I can look back at what happened and see every time I should’ve done something different. Each moment when I could’ve stopped how it ended.

After Meg ran from me in Bill’s arms, I left the party and drove home. I decided to let Bill find his wife, and instead I would pack like I should’ve done after the ribbon cutting. I would get Julian and take him far, far away from here, and we would never come back as long as I lived.

I thought maybe I would write her a letter and try to explain. Maybe I could tell her she never had to worry about seeing my sorry face again because I would never, never come back to ruin her life.

She could go back to her palace and live with her prince and forget an evil witch had ever come and tried to destroy her life. She could pretend I never existed at all.

She could hit me.

Maybe she wanted to throw things at me. I would happily stand and let her hurl a piano at my head if it would make her feel better. Maybe she could hit me so hard I would forget him. Maybe there was a pill I could take that would stop me from touching the thing that wasn’t mine. The thing that belonged to the one friend I loved most in the world. My sister.

Once Julian’s sitter was gone, I went to my bedroom and pulled out my suitcase. My little boy was sleeping, but I planned for us to leave first thing in the morning.

That’s when I heard the car door slam.

I went to the window and only one streetlight shone on the driveway. Meg was standing by her car waiting for me. She still wore the light blue skirt and white sweater she’d had on at the party, but the skirt had a tear. And it looked like there was blood on her sweater. I went out and stood in the driveway facing her. She was swaying side to side, almost like she was drunk as she stared me down, anger and hatred burning in her eyes. Occasionally, a shudder passed through her body.

“You stole everything I loved.” Her voice was hoarse, and her face was streaked with tears.

“Please come inside.” My voice was shaky.

“That baby.” Her voice grew louder. “Who is the father?”

“Meg, please.” I held out my trembling hand. “Please let’s just talk about it.”

“WHO is the father?” she screamed.

Tears were spilling down my cheeks now, and I could feel my insides ripping to shreds. “I just need to explain… I’m leaving. You don’t have to—”

“There is NOTHING you can explain!”

My head dropped as the tears took over. “Oh, god, Meg. Please. Please let me try. I’m so sorry—”

“You took EVERYTHING I ever cared about,” she shrieked through the pain.

My body wrenched with sobs. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

She staggered back against the car, opened the door and fumbled to get in.

“NO!” I rushed forward to stop her. “You can’t drive!”

“Don’t you TOUCH ME!” She screamed again and threw what turned out to be an empty scotch bottle with such force, it knocked me back and to the ground as it glanced off my temple. Blood instantly flowed into my eye, and sand flew in my face as her car shot out into the night.