You're Gone (Finding Solid Ground) (12 page)

The building of Crane and Macmillan looked like any other typical office building, but it was anything but that t
o Charleigh. A twenty-five story building, she stood on the sidewalk outside looking up at the magnificent structure in awe. This was hers. Charleigh didn’t know why, but she felt an air of doubt settle in her stomach as she moved toward the revolving doors.  Not exactly all hers— only ninety-four percent. That little tidbit of knowledge still didn’t sit well.

Charleigh stopped just inside to look around. There were large, black ceramic tiles on the floor, polished to shine. A pair of elevators occupied one wall; a long corridor went beyond them as far as the eye could see. There were two sofas and four chairs grouped to form a waiting area. An abstract painting hung on the wall over one of the couches, which was flanked by two side tables with obviously fake potted plants setting on top of each.

A reception desk was only a matter of steps away, where a pretty woman, about the same age as Charleigh, sat answering the phone. She puffed out her cheeks and hesitantly went toward it. The receptionist looked up at her skeptically as she worked the switchboard, Charleigh responded with a shy smile, pressing her full weight on the balls of her feet.

“Can I help you with something?” The other woman finally asked over the ringing.

“Can you tell me how to find Jamie? James Matthews?” Charleigh inquired, stuttering over her words.

The receptionist smiled kindly. “You must be Charleigh. He wanted me to let him know when you arrived so he could come down and meet you.” She pressed a few buttons on the telephone on the desk. “You can wait over there.”

Charleigh nodded, turned and went to sit down. On the partition behind the reception desk, twenty or so pictures hung in a pyramid formation. A brass plate above them all announced that they were members of the board. Curious, she went over to take a look. Not surprisingly, pictures of Amanda Douglas Randall and Michael Randall hung side by side at the very top.

The pictures were clearly old, taken in 1981, at the very least, since she’d been around two years old, Charleigh estimated, when t
he company was headed downhill. Her dad looked so handsome, and he still had a head full of black hair. He was smiling brilliantly in the photo, though the suit he wore was drab and ugly. She studied the picture of her mother. The color eight-by-ten photo showed Amanda, a mass of tight curls atop her head. And it was in early ‘82 when her mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. By then, all of her mother’s hair had fallen out from the chemotherapy. Not that Charleigh remembered, but there were pictures of her bald mother. She looked just as beautiful without hair as she did with it. Bright green eyes. The smile of a beauty queen. She was wearing an electric-blue suit.

“Searching for the resemblances?” Jamie whispered from behind, causing Charleigh to jump.

“No reason to,” Charleigh replied, turning around to face him. “There are none.”

“There’re more than you are willing to see.” He put an arm around her shoulders and led her back toward the elevators.

Upstairs, Jamie showed Charleigh around. He showed her the break room and where he worked. He’d claimed that it was only a small cubicle, but she thought of it more as a broom closet. It did have a door, after all, and it had a nameplate. On his desk were a computer monitor, keyboard, a picture of Charleigh, and a pen and pencil cup.

“It’s nice,” Charleigh commented, trying not to laugh at the bemused expression on Jamie’s face. “No, it really is.”

He nodded, noncommittal. “Question: if you did decide to become CEO, would I get a bigger ‘office,’ being as it is that I’d be your husband?”

“Uh, no, because I never want to be CEO.”

They went on up the elevator to the top floor, where the offices of Mister Crane and Mister Macmillan were.

At the end of a long corridor was a
n old, gray-haired lady sitting at a desk, and beyond her was a set of double doors. The nameplate announced that it belonged to Daniel Crane. The woman smiled, immediately picking up the phone.

“We don’t need to interrupt him. I’ll meet him later,” Charleigh told the secretary and grabbed onto Jamie’s arm.

“No, Mister Crane clearly told me this morning that he wanted to meet you as soon as you got here,” Jamie replied.

“And you always do everything you’re told?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Most of the time.” Jamie smiled. “What my bride-to-be says she wants, my bride-to-be gets.”

She let out a
ha!
sound, rolled her eyes just as the door started to open.

“
You must be Charleigh,” Daniel Crane said, stepping toward her. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Oh, wow! Is Daniel Crane spelled H-O-T, or am I wrong?
Shamelessly, Charleigh stared at her fiancé’s boss. He looked like Ewan McGregor’s twin, only with a southern accent. With light brown hair, hazel-eyes, and a finely defined jaw line, Daniel couldn’t have been more than thirty-two or thirty-three years old.
And he’s an associate in an architectural firm? How can that be?

Jamie had to elbow her to bring her back down to earth. Charleigh shook her head, hoping she hadn’t been drooling, and extended her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “Just kind of… blacked out there.”

As it turned out, Daniel was more like forty-one.

They all sat together at a table at Marco’s, a trendy steakhouse near the office, Charleigh found out that he was a confirmed bachelor, but he did say that he hoped to get married one day. And he definitely wanted children.
If only
, Charleigh thought dreamily, though she wouldn’t have traded Jamie in for a million Ewan McGregor look-alikes.

She looked over at Jamie, who sat beside her with his arm slung over the back of her chair, and smiled. The foolish thought simply dissipated when the smile was reciprocated. 

Fredrick Macmillan was an older, portly gentleman, who turned out to be Daniel’s stepfather, and Renee, his wife, was Daniel’s mother. They were all very friendly, in Charleigh’s opinion.

And Charleigh appreciated very much that there wasn’t the merest mention of business, or her interest in the company. The evening consisted of good food and good company.

“So, I’m told the two of you will be getting married in less than a month now,” Renee said, winking at Charleigh. “September fifteenth, is it?”

             
“Twenty-eight days,” Charleigh replied, looking down at her wristwatch to find that it was nearing ten o’clock, “twenty-one hours and about fifteen minutes.”

It made Jamie laugh at her accuracy.

“Well, I hope it’s not too presumptuous to ask if the boss and his wife are invited, Jamie?” Fred Macmillan asked, fishing for an invitation.

“Of course, you are,” Charleigh answered for him. “I sent all of them out today. If it had
entered my mind, I’d have just brought it with me.”

“You got all of them finished?” Jamie looked over at her, worried.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I took them with me to the store. Liz and Lauren came up and helped me.”

“What kind of store do you own, Charleigh?” Daniel asked, curious.

“It’s a feed store,” she explained, “We sell all kinds of stuff. I started it almost two years ago after I graduated from college. Kind of an addition to my father‘s veterinary clinic.”

“Two years ago?” Daniel inquired. “You can’t be more than twenty or twenty-one now.”

“I’m twenty-two,” she answered, “I graduated on an accelerated program. I went concurrent during high school, and all through the summer my junior and senior years. I also went two more summers, my freshman and sophomore years of college, taking a full workload. I wanted to train horses. I guess I still do.”

“That’s right,” Fred said. “Both of your parents were vets. Sorry to hear about your father’s death. Didn’t know him all that well, but I can tell you that I thought your dad was a good man from the first time I met him.”

“Thank you.”

“Your mama was a lovely lady, too. You look a lot like her, by the way.”

“That’s what I’m told,” Charleigh commented. Fred could see that he’d struck a chord, but remained silent on apologies, not wanting to ruffle anymore feathers.

The house was quiet when Jamie stepped through the laundry room door, just off the garage. All of the lights were off in the kitchen. It was still light outside, and the rays of the setting sun that came through the picture windows was enough for him to see that Charleigh hadn’t fixed anything for dinner.

Not that he was complaining. It’s not like Jamie was a Neanderthal or anything. He wasn’t the kind of guy that expected a hot supper waiting for him when he got home from a hard day at work, or else. Blah, blah, blah! The whole ‘Woe is me,’ thing was a bunch of bull. Like he didn’t know how to open a can and pop it in the microwave.

Besides, they were working on his culinary skills and Jamie was coming along pretty well, and he didn’t mind saying so. He’d already mastered certain kitchen appliances, like the blender and the crock-pot. He’d learned how to make Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo just by following the directions Charleigh had written out for him.

“Not bad,” she’d told him after taking the first bite. “I give you a B+ for taste, and A for effort. You did good, honey.”

And they were working up to using the oven.

Still, Charleigh never failed to at least have something started on the stove by the time he got there.
So, what was wrong?

Jamie put his briefcase in the dining room before going upstairs to check on Charleigh. The most that could be wrong is that she had a migraine, right?
Right?

He took the stairs one at a time, slowly, quietly making his way toward the bedroom so that he wouldn’t wake her up, on the off chance that she might be sleeping. The door to their bedroom at the end of the hall was ajar. Their bed covers looked rumpled, but Charleigh wasn’t in it. Corey and Amos were.

“Hey, guys,” Jamie said, taking time to scratch each dog behind their ears. “Where’s Char? Huh, guys? Is she in the bathroom?”

The door
s were wide open, and he walked over to take a look. Candles were spread around on every available surface in the room; each one was lit, casting little golden circles of light on the ceiling above. A light melody played from the CD player. Sarah McLaughlin, he presumed.

And sure enough, Charleigh was in the antique claw-foot bathtub, with bubbles all the way up around her ears. Her hair was pulled back. Some kind of cream was smeared all over her face and neck. Two cucumbers covered Charleigh’s eyes. She looked completely relaxed as she leaned back, enjoying her soak.

It brought a smile to Jamie’s face as he turned to go.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Charleigh called from behind.

“Downstairs,” he answered, turning around to see one of the cucumbers was missing. “I didn’t want to disturb you. You looked so tranquil.”

“And I feel
amazing
, too.” Charleigh let out a little sigh, sitting up. Her body was hidden by a ton of bubbles. She reached for a bottle on the metal rack at the end of the tub and held it up.

“Did you go shopping today?” Jamie came over and knelt beside the tub.

“Yup.” She smiled. “Liz, Lauren and I had a little girl time today. We went to look at dresses for my bride’s maids and flower girl. We had lunch and did some shopping.”

“Got a manicure, too, I see. Looks nice.”

“Thank you.” Charleigh leaned in for a kiss. Some of the face cream rubbed off on Jamie’s nose and cheek, but he didn’t mind. “I got a pedi, too.” She put her feet up on the rim of the tub, wiggling her toes to show off the pale pink polish.

“That looks good, too.” He stood up. “I’ll go whip something up in the kitchen. What do you feel like?”

Charleigh wriggled her eyebrows.

“You have sex on the brain,” Jamie laughed. “I can’t help feeling so… so used. Is that the only thing you keep me around for?”

“Pretty much. So, what’d ya think?”

“Maybe later. Can’t you hear that? My stomach’s growling. How about some Alfredo?”

“Sounds good. You get it started, and I’ll come down and help as soon as I get dressed.” Because she had complete confidence that he wouldn’t catch the house on fire and let it burn to the ground.

Charleigh stood up. Jamie picked the towel up that was on the floor and wrapped it around her bubble-clad body. “Thank you.” His only response was a kiss. He lingered a little longer to
inhale the new scent that enveloped the woman he loved more than life itself.

***

              When Charleigh came downstairs, she was met by the welcoming aroma of food cooking in her kitchen. The sauce was on. The noodles were boiling. The chicken grilling. With his suit jacket hanging over the back of a chair, his tie discarded and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, Jamie was busy chopping fresh vegetables for a salad. She stopped just inside the doorway to take it all in.
How lucky am I?

Not only did she have a gorgeous fiancé, one that catered to her every need
, Charleigh had a guy who was willing to share the kitchen duty with her, which did include doing the dishes. Other than her dad and Granddad, she’d never had a guy actually cook for her. Of course, all guys, typecast accordingly, liked to grill meat—Jamie was no different in that department— but not many of them really got into it. Or enjoyed it.

Jamie enjoyed it. He liked learning how to cook. And Charleigh got pleasure from te
aching him, too. He was a good and willing student.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Jamie looked up from the spinach leaves he was shredding.

“Looks like you’ve got everything under control.”

“That’s what you think,” he replied, drizzling fresh lemon juice into the bowl of vegetables. Then, Jamie wiped his hands on a towel, which he had draped over his shoulder. “How do you know when the noodles are done again? I can’t remember.”

Charleigh went over to the stove. She turned off the Alfredo sauce and picked up a fork and dipped it in to the boiling pot for one of the long, flat noodles. Jamie watched closely as she brought the pasta up to her mouth and blew on it. After a moment, Charleigh picked it up from the fork and stuck it in her mouth.

             
She nodded, repeating the actions. “And if you’re still not sure, you do this.” She threw the noodle up against the wall. “If it sticks, it’s done.”

Jamie was flabbergasted. He went over to where the noodle was stuck on the walk. “So, you just toss it?”

She nodded. “Just toss it.”

“And you don’t care that some of the pasta could … remain on the wall?” He pulled the noodle off and tossed it in the trash.

“That’s what soap and water was invented for, Jamie.” Taking two oven mitts from a drawer, Charleigh put them on to remove the colander from the boiling water.

“It wouldn’t bug you if I had to do it several times, just to be certain?”

She shook her head, laughing. “You know, it might have… it would have, definitely, about a year ago, but some things have changed in my life.”

Studying her face, Jamie watched as Charleigh cut a small square of butter from a stick and added it to the bowl where she had dumped the noodles. She didn’t say anything about the things in her life that had changed, but he knew it involved him and their relationship.

His
life had changed. Jamie viewed the transformation as a complete one hundred eighty-degree rotation from what it had been. It didn’t exactly occur overnight. It had taken some time. But everything about his life was different, and it was accredited to his grandmother and great-aunt, and Charleigh and the couple of ass-whippings she’d given him.

             
When Charleigh looked up, she saw Jamie was smiling at her. It brought one to her own lips, causing her eyes to twinkle. Seeing that made Jamie’s heart skip a beat, knowing that he was the one who put it there.

             
“Do you why I’m smiling?” Jamie asked coming around the island to stand beside her.

             
“I have no idea, but I can guess that it probably has to do with… food.”

             
“Nope,” he answered.

             
“Because the latest Victoria Secret catalogue came in the mail today?”

             
“Oh, it did, but that’s not the reason I’m smiling.” Jamie kissed her on the cheek. “You make me smile.”

             
“
Aw…
I see now. You saw the strawberry cheesecake in the refrigerator,” Charleigh joked. “Aren’t you still on that diet? Remember, tofu and protein shakes until the wedding.”

“
Yeah, but I can afford to a little overindulgence tonight.”

“
I guess, we could burn off all the extra calories later tonight.” She let out an exaggerated sigh, “Although, I do admit, I’m afraid I feel a headache coming on.”

“
Yeah,” Jamie laughed, taking a loaf of French bread from the cupboard.

“Ah, I almost forgot. There’s something I want to show you,” Charleigh told him, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked out of the kitchen.

When she came back, she was carrying a thick manila folder. Coming to standing beside Jamie as he sliced the bread for toast, Charleigh removed several items from it, laying them out on top of the counter for both of them to look over. There were numerous photos of wooded areas, including one aerial.

“What are we looking at?” Jamie asked.

“This is a possible site for the summer camp,” Charleigh answered, pointing to the aerial shot. “Three hundred fifty acres of lakefront property.”

“Lakefront property? Interesting. Isn’t most of that owned by the state, though?” He took the cookie-sheet and popped it in the oven.

“No, not any of this land. Several different people all privately own it, actually.” Charleigh pointed to three of the other pictures. “This plot is for sell, and so are these two.” She pointed to a fourth. “The only problem is this plot sits in the middle of everything, separating it all.”

“So, you plan to approach the owner of the land that
isn’t
for sell and offer a hefty price?” Jamie asked, biting on his cuticles. Seeing this, Charleigh slapped his hand away from his mouth.

“Already have.”

He stared at her. “Why didn’t you bother to ask me about this? Or my Dad, Charleigh? The owner is only out to make big bucks, and I can only imagine what the real estate agent thought when you came through the door with your big ideas.”

Charleigh waved away the insinuation that she was getting taken for a ride. “Oh, ye of little faith, stop jumping to conclusions. Because you’ve been so busy with the Thailand project, I talked to Greg and the lawyers at Davison. And Terry is going to help me to understand all the legal gobbledygook. You have nothing to fear, Pooh Bear.” 

Jamie breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at the pet name. “Just making sure.”

He watched as Charleigh traced a nail over the aerial shot. “There’s enough room for about fifty cabins— I’m just guesstimating. There’ll be a main house with a full-size infirmary, a dining hall, and an auditorium.  And a stable for horseback riding. And enough beach for swimming and fishing and canoeing. And enough woods for hiking trails and…”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Char,” Jamie interjected. He could see the excitement on

Charleigh’s face, but didn’t want her to get disappointed if the deal fell through. “There’s still a lot that goes along with this stuff. Wheeling and dealing. Closing.”

“I know it’s all going to turn out just fine. Trust me, I can feel it.” She gathered everything and put it back in the folder. Jamie watched Charleigh leave the kitchen with an ecstatic smile on her lips.