In the Land of Milk and Honey Page 6

  When my eyes traveled to the far end of the table, there was one man staring intensely. He was devastatingly handsome, and I thought I might know him from somewhere. Then I dismissed the sense of recognition. He was the man I’d seen in the lobby—Mr. V-neck.

  I raised a menu to preoccupy myself. I was sure he’d seen me staring earlier in the day because when our gazes had locked. I had the sense of being caught. The waitress appeared, and I placed my order of grilled mahi-mahi and sweet tea.

  “Another scotch for me, dear,” Mr. Fitch graveled out. “What about you, Danny boy, you look like you could use a drink. Another vodka?” He emphasized his suggestion by shaking his glass of dregs in the air, clumsily.

  Fitch was addressing Mr. V-neck. His expression was stone, but looked a little peaked, and I didn’t think another drink was a good idea. His eyes flickered from Fitch to the awaiting waitress, to whom he only gave a slight approving nod of the chin.

  Even under the dim lighting, he really was something else. He had a similar executive haircut to August, but a bit longer, and a chin of stubble. His skin was slightly sun-kissed with features that were flawless. It was a face that had a sculptural quality to it. By the time I’d rounded out my little analysis, his attention had returned from the waitress landing directly back on me. His mouth formed a tight line, and I flinched. He must be some misogynistic underling because he didn’t look thrilled with my presence at the boys’ table.

  When the drinks arrived Mr. Fitch clinked his glass to a saltshaker, proposing a toast.

  “To the healthy, the wealthy, and the wise…and to the merger!” he bellowed cheerfully. They all toasted with a grand flourish. I snuck a glance down table to see Mr. V-neck, or Danny, down his in one shot. I couldn’t help but notice the sharp contrast between August’s apprehensions about the acquisition and these men’s obliviousness. He was out burning the midnight oil to assure a good outcome and save their jobs while these men partied.

  Mr. Fitch began telling entertaining stories that all began with “This one time, out for drinks…” to much adulation. I decided to call it a night when I started to get a strange queasy, uneasy feeling. I eyed my half-eaten mahi-mahi, scanning for evidence dinner wasn’t at fault. I then signed the bill and slipped away from the table to head back to the room.

  I rounded out of the restaurant, into the lobby, and found a table from my first design line in the foyer with a potted orchid on top. I ran my hand across the birch wood, admiring my work. It never got old. I was fingering the flower petals when I was startled from my reverence.

  “You like orchids,” came a smooth deep English accent. It was Danny. He seemed taller at this proximity, with a strong physical build underneath his thin gray sweater and dark charcoal slacks. He appeared to be in his late twenties, but the eyes behind his wire frame glasses seemed older.

  “They’re my favorite,” I replied, with a small smile.

  It looked like he was studying me. “You are with August.” Again a statement, not a question.

  “Yes.” In the brighter light of the hallway, I could see his eyes were green. Not a grassy watercolor lime like my son’s, but a deep-sea green.

  A long silence passed, and I asked, “You work together?”

  “Yes,” he responded, darting his eyes to the flowers with furrowed brows. “He’s a good man?” he said. This time it was a question.

  “The best one I know,” I affirmed, slightly affronted. I wanted to tell him August was out saving his job right now but that would’ve been rude. “I guess he missed the celebration tonight because of his meeting. I don’t know how you guys can drink so much….” At a time like this, I thought. The implication wasn’t lost. His eyes were distant, but the corner of his mouth was amused by some private joke.

  “I don’t drink,” he replied. “Just water.” I furrowed my brow, confused, but realized that must have been what the head nod to the waitress was about.

  “Very clever.” I relaxed, sharing his amusement. “I guess I’d do the same thing if Mr. Fitch wanted me to go drink for drink.” Sweet little bald man.

  “He does like his scotch,” Danny said, looking back towards the restaurant doors.

  I laughed. “That would be an understatement.” When he turned back to me, he seemed pained and I wanted to ask him what was wrong.

  “I should let you go now,” he said quietly, almost to himself, but he made no move to leave. I frowned a little.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you, Danny,” I said.

  He opened his mouth to speak and hesitated before starting again. “Good evening, Ms. Valentine,” he intoned in a smooth low voice, the kind you’d pay to hear someone to read to you in.

  He bowed his head minutely before turning and descending down the hall.

  ~o~

  In the room, I found myself alone. I double-checked the contents of my purse because I kept feeling like I was missing something. With everything accounted for, I crawled into bed.

  Chapter 5 - A Glimmer Named Hope

  August tiptoed in around three in the morning, and I finally fell asleep around six. When I awoke, almost six hours later, I found the note he’d left telling me he was in a meeting in one of the conference rooms and would meet me on the patio at lunch. I called Tristan and apologized for not calling first thing, but he sounded happy and distracted. He was playing horseshoes with Ian and Jill and getting ready for a cook-out at her townhouse. I told him I loved him. Jill promised to take lots of pictures.

  I showered and I blew dry my long hair until it glossed. Women here typically wore pearls and boucle skirt suits, but I had my limits. I quickly dressed myself in a tailored white blouse, minimal gold jewelry and dark slim jeans and applied a little makeup before heading out the door.

  Just my luck, as I hurried through the halls I bumped, literally, into a little red-haired girl who was crying. She told me she lost her big brother, so I led her up to the front desk where the girl told us her name was Amy and that she knew her mom was at the spa. They sent out a page for a lost Amy, and an irate woman in a white robe, slippers, and a face mask marched up.

  “I told you to stay with your brother! Can’t I get a facial without having a crisis? It took me days to get this appointment…” she ranted to the little girl as she held her hand, dragging her behind. Maybe she was better off lost.

  Outside, on a massive paver deck, they’d set up food stations with chefs serving lunch à la carte. I was hungry from having missed breakfast and made a beeline for the meat-carving table. Most of the wives and girlfriends had the same idea, and the tables were filled with ladies who lunch.

  I grabbed the first vacant seat I found, only one other woman sat at the table. I was bad at introductions, but she didn’t raise her eyes from her magazine, so we ate silently. She had a short blonde bob and was very polished in—what else?—a light blue Chanel boucle dress and multi-strand pearls. All she was missing was a wide-brimmed hat with a bow. We wouldn’t have anything to talk about anyway, I concluded.

  “Daniel!” she called out, waving her hand in the air, flagging someone down. Within seconds, there stood Mr. V-neck himself—Danny—flanked by two other dark-haired men. He was dressed more casually than the other men, who wore full suits and ties. He looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep, and I noticed for the first time his hair color was a rich, beer bottle brown.

  I smiled warmly in greeting, but his face was stony and he turned away. I guess Danny and I weren’t friends when others were around.

  “Join me, gentlemen,” blonde bob implored. She was English too and clearly knew how to play her role here. I realized then she was the other half of the V-neck Crew from the lobby—Danny’s other half. As she waved her hand, I also noticed the giant sparkling canary yellow diamond on her hand.

  Danny’s nod was a directive; the two men filled the chairs between us as he sat at the end, the blonde at his side. As the men took to discussing financials, I picked up that they were all English. I was not impressed
when they placed special orders to the kitchen, apparently too good to plate their own food or eat what the rest of us did.

  “Bree!” I heard and turned at the sound of charging footsteps. I spun just in time to see little Amy barrel into my chair, giggling. Everyone had turned towards the disruption, eyeing her disapprovingly. Well, except Danny, whose eyes were closed and his brows were knitted together as if he’d just been poked with a needle. She wedged herself between the snobby suit guy, bumping his elbow, and fired away.

  “Did you know my mom wears a wig sometimes?” she announced, panting heavily from her run. I laughed inappropriately loud before covering my mouth. She took that as encouragement.

  “And sometimes, at night, I hear her in her bedroom shaving her legs all by herself. Buzzz, buzzz, buzzz, allll night. That’s what it sounds like. Yep,” she mimed while nodding, smiling brightly. I was wide-eyed as I surveyed the table. The blonde was aghast, as was the suit directly opposite her, but the guy to my side was laughing and Danny observed her as though she were a curiosity.

  “Little one, I don’t know if I’d share that with anyone else today, okay?” I suggested amusedly as a pulled a stray hair from her face.

  “She won’t care,” Amy shrugged.

  “Let’s keep it our little secret, anyway,” I whispered.

  “Cool,” she whispered back, liking the idea of a secret.

  “What’s your name, little girl?” the suit next to me asked.

  “Amy.”

  “Amy, I’d like you to give your mother my card. Tell her it’s in case she needs any help shaving tonight,” he said smugly, flicking out his hand. She snatched the card. I hoped he was kidding when I saw the wedding band on his finger.

  “Okay! You two can come play with me now if you want!” she exclaimed to myself and Suit One, bouncing on her heels. I wondered if her mother had fed her bars of chocolate to placate her. Or possibly uppers.

  Her eyes bounced back and forth from the suited man and me expectantly, he raised an eyebrow that said ‘how preposterous’, and I took a cue; even his eyebrow seemed to have a snooty English accent.

  “Amy, I think the nice man has business to do, but maybe I’ll come and play later.”

  “I’ll be on the hill.” She pointed beyond the pool down to the sloping grassy hills beyond and then she bolted for it. I snickered, observing her stumble once, her legs not fast enough for her body.

  I checked my watch, wondering where August could be. As I did, the overcast sky parted for just a brief moment, a few beams of sunlight rebelliously breaking through the gray and lavender clouds, the rays falling like tiny radiant spotlights and in the corner of my eye, I caught a glimmer of cognac—just like a spark—and an errant thought raced through my mind, too quickly to catch.

  I felt suddenly tense, like I needed some air; air somewhere else. I rose from the stuffy table and smoothed out my shirt, and by the time I looked up, Danny had risen from his chair; the other men abruptly followed suit. I was puzzled by the gesture but I snapped out of my daze, my inner tension returning, when the blonde grabbed his forearm and gave him a look like he’d just stood for the maid.

  I turned, heading for the hill where Amy played and stood watching from the edge of the patio, trying to clear my head. Several children were chasing each other and I smiled, thinking of my son, but somehow I still felt…troubled.

  I turned back searching for August, and finally I spotted him. Of all things, he was standing beside Danny’s chair, smiling and talking vividly—reassuring the troops, I’m sure. But as soon as he walked away he began rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. He spotted me and rushed over.

  “Bree,” he said hurriedly, “I’m so sorry I missed lunch. I’ve been doing damage control all morning.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “It’s beyond helping. A total disaster.” I was going to ask more, but it seemed out of my depth.

  “Don’t worry about me. Go do what you need to,” I said firmly, leaning on tiptoes to kiss his cheek in hello and goodbye.

  “Are you sure?” He laid his hands on my shoulders.

  “Yes. Now go be a superhero,” I teased, shooing him off. He smiled, dropping a kiss on my cheek before hurrying off.

  My old distress was replaced with worry for August. Amy ran up and asked if I’d be “home base” in their game of hide and go seek. I laughed, agreeing to the distraction. Several rounds in, she ran up to me, sticking out her little leg.

  “Will you tie my shoes?” she asked, cutely, so I bent down to lace them.

  “You’re pretty, Bree,” she sang cheerfully then blinked. I smiled back and patted her head before she ran off screaming to the hiders, “You’re in trouble now!”

  “You have an admirer.” I turned to see Danny standing a few feet behind me.

  “Uh, no, just a little friend,” I replied, confused by his sudden presence.

  “You make friends easily,” he supplied. I laughed at the irony; I would have made more friends sitting at the children’s table than at his. It clearly became his table once he sat.

  “I found her in the hallway,” I explained. “She was lost.”

  It looked like the rest of his group was gone, which explained why he was talking to me again. I was beginning to think the parallel I’d drawn between his face and a sculpture was truer than I’d realized. His face was always perfectly stoic, but he shook his head briefly as if to say, of course.

  “I think they’ve got a sixth sense, you know?” I mused, watching the children play.

  “About safe places to run?” I smiled at his odd guess. He obviously wasn’t a kid person.

  “No. Well, sort of,” I paused, wondering how long he’d been watching the game. “I think they can sense other mothers. They seem to automatically trust us,” I clarified, watching Amy maul a boy to the ground. She reminded me of Violet. He didn’t reply, so I checked to see if he was there. He was looking at his loafers.

  “You have a child,” he intoned solemnly.

  “Yes,” I replied with pride. “I have a little boy.”

  Finally he spoke. “I am…happy for you,” he said. I thought he was being sarcastic but when he raised his gaze and his eyes met mine, there was honesty there.

  “I’m pretty happy for me, too,” I replied, thinking of my amazing little son.

  “Bree! I won! I won! I caught them all!” Amy ran up and flung herself at me. I grabbed her just in time before she knocked us both over, laughing.

  “See, doesn’t this just make you want to take one home?” I turned and said to the thin air where Danny had formerly been standing.

  Eat your heart out, Houdini.

  ~o~

  Many hours later I was standing in front of the two dresses lying on the bed, internally debating which to wear. Violet had pulled them for me for tonight’s formal dinner, the main event of the weekend and the primary reason I’d accompanied August. The first dress was a silky deep blue empire waist dress. It was conservative and pretty. The second was a fitted black satin gown with a thin satin belt with a diamond buckle. It was glamorous and a little sexy. I tapped my chin and thought, what would Nicole Kidman do? I grabbed the black Armani. I figured it might be time to bring out the big guns—pun intended. Well, small C-cup guns, but whatever.

  I hadn’t seen August since lunch, and I’d spent the rest of the afternoon in a pottery class. While the employees were in meetings, the company arranged different activities for the significant others to participate in; like massages and facials, and some random things, like photography and pottery. It was more like a babysitting service for the pampered spouses. In fact, the only other person in my non-spa activity was the husband of a female executive. While checking in with Tristan, I finally got a text from August saying he was running late and for me to go ahead and get ready.

  I slid on my dress, zipping it tight, and slipped on my black stilettos. The gown fit like a glove and made my waist look the size of a champagne fl
ute. I’d styled my hair in soft waves, parting it on the side so a wave glided above my eyebrow, and then I added a vintage crystal hair pin on other side. My makeup was usually minimal, but I opted for dark eyes and red lips. My skin was a fair, creamy, light olive and my eyes were the color of brown sugar with a touch of gray so the palette worked and I was just rubbing in some moisturizer with a little shimmer on my bare décolletage when I heard the door open and close.

  “What do you think?” I asked, sashaying out of the bathroom, extending my arms out as I whirled.

  “Wow, Bree,” he breathed. “You are a stunner.”

  “Is it too much?” I asked seriously, dropping my arms to my sides, noticing how exhausted he looked.

  “It’s perfect,” he said, seeming to catch a second wind as he grabbed his tux from the closet. “They may just keep me on to have you around.”

  “I’m here to help,” I said, watching him disappear to the bathroom. I knew I looked amazing, but I didn’t take it too seriously. I considered my packaging to be battle armor for August’s little war. I practiced walking in my heels, which made me feel ten feet tall, and completed the ensemble with diamond drop earrings and a diamond bracelet I’d borrowed from Jill.

  August was showered and dressed in record time, and he would have made James Bond cry when he stepped out of the bathroom in his tux. He was hands down the best looking man I’d ever met in real life. I grabbed my clutch and we headed downstairs for cocktail hour, linking arms as we confidently entered the room.

  Immediately, people swarmed August, and I was swept up meeting and greeting as we worked the room, smiling brightly arm in arm. Everyone looked great in their formal wear, though PETA would have gone wild at the amount of fur present. My cheeks began to burn from smiling, and I resisted the urge to tug at the bodice of my dress; it was garnering more attention than I’d anticipated. We were talking to a nice older couple who intrigued me with their ability to talk through clenched teeth like uber-posh ventriloquists when August tensed, then whispered in my ear.