a word, merely her name spoken as only Alex could say it, but she was an adult now, immune to his manipulation.
“I’ve been here for the last five years,” she said. “I own my own company. A graphics design firm.” She wanted him to know she was in control of her own life and getting along just fine.
“I’m in and out of New York a lot. Wish I’d known you were here.” He went on rapidly. “Well, now that I’ve found you we must get together sometime. I’ve filled up this weekend with business, I’m afraid, and have to head back home after lunch tomorrow…”
Sure, Alex, business.
“…but I’m coming back next weekend. Have dinner with me Friday night?”
I’d like to have you for dinner Friday night, you bastard. She forced breath into her lungs, forced her lips to move. “Sorry, I’m busy Friday.”
“Saturday?”
“Busy Saturday, too. And I never go out on Sundays.” She hoped he’d felt the point of the knife she’d just jabbed into him. “But it was great to see you.” She turned away, longing for the safety and comfort of her own space, any space that didn’t have Alex in it.
“Sarah.”
The old deep, slow rhythm slowed her steps. She couldn’t help herself.
“Here’s my card. Call me if your plans change.”
She took the card, tried to focus on it. She saw a San Francisco address. “You went back to California.”
“Yes.”
“Your mother?” She let her gaze rest on his face.
His wry smile added a touch of reality to the painful dream Sarah floated in. “In England. In excellent health, as impossible as ever and slowly killing husband number five. And your aunt Becki?”
The flood of sorrow rose inside her, as it always did. “She died. Eight years ago, while I was still in school.”
“Oh, Sarah, I am sorry.”
“Well.” She gave him a bright, social smile as she gathered up her bags and started toward her doorway. She didn’t know what she’d do if he followed her, offered to help with the bags, asked to come in. He didn’t do any of those things. He just stood quietly, watching her.
“Enjoy your stay in New York,” she said over her shoulder.
She got up the steps and through the doorway, fumbling with her keys. She made it to the tiny elevator at the end of the hall, to her apartment on the fifth floor and at last, to solitude.
Then she cried.
ROOTED TO THE SIDEWALK, Alex found it difficult to bend his knees.
As he watched Sarah vanish into the town house, he felt as if his memories were burning him alive. Memories of the warm, silken feel of her stretched out over the full length of his body, or straddling him, clinging to his hair with her fingertips, or writhing beneath him, and finally lying quietly beside him, sated.
Suddenly edgy and needing to move around, he started slowly back toward Sixth Avenue. As soon as he’d officially reached adulthood and financial independence he’d begun searching for her, futilely trying to track her down through their mutual high-school friends, eventually surfing Internet telephone directories, state by state. She’d cut herself off, it seemed, vanished. He hadn’t expected her to do that. He’d imagined she’d be there when the time was right. And today, at last, she’d appeared as if by magic.
It hadn’t seemed possible. It still didn’t seem possible.
He reached Sixth, stepped out onto the street and held up his hand. A taxi swerved, crossed two lanes and pulled up in front of him.
He wished the meeting had gone better, been easier, more comfortable, had given him some hope of forgiveness, yet he felt almost relieved by her hostility.
It meant she still cared.
“Hey, buddy, you want a cab or not?”
Alex gazed blankly through the window at the man, then climbed into the cab and tried desperately to restore his interest in the business deal that had seemed so important an hour ago.
2
“I WILL NOT BE spoken to in that tone,” Jeremy said. His voice shook. “I know you’re the boss, but it doesn’t give you the right to be abusive. I have other options, Sarah. I turn down job offers right and left, higher pay, bigger assignments, because in the past—” he emphasized the words “—I have enjoyed working here.” His chin quivered. “But I cannot work for a person who tells me my artwork has to be cremated before burial.”
“Oh, Jeremy,” Sarah said, genuinely remorseful. “I am so sorry.” First Ray, now Jeremy. Jeremy was her ace computer-art person; she couldn’t get along without him. She couldn’t get along without any member of her small staff. Business was picking up as advertising agencies, in-house publicity departments and independent print salespeople grew familiar with her name and her product, but it was still a struggle to meet the overhead and pay salaries that were well below market. One glitch, one late delivery on a contract, one angry client taking his work elsewhere and she’d be bankrupt. Friendship and loyalty were all that kept these people with her, and she was alienating them one by one.
She slid her fingers through the silky waves of her hair, realizing that even her scalp itched. She felt feverish. She ached all over. But aspirin wasn’t going to help. “I am not myself today.”
“Or yesterday,” Jeremy said. “Or three weeks ago Monday.”
Sarah straightened up and spoke briskly. “I’m having a few personal problems,” she said, “but it was both unkind and unprofessional of me to take it out on you. Please accept my apology.”
“What about the artwork for the Designer Discounts mailer?” He eyed her suspiciously.
She cleared her throat. “I would appreciate it if you’d make one more stab at capturing the magic of a new shipment of Italian designer clothing.”
“You mean the artwork stinks.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
He gave her a flashing smile. “Then why didn’t you just say so?” He picked up the artwork and turned to leave Sarah’s office. “Hey, Macon,” he said as the two of them met in her doorway.
Sarah saw the significant glance that passed between them as Jeremy exited.
Macon came in, shut the door and sat down. “Well, you sure haven’t gotten…”
“Don’t say it!”
“Okay,” Macon said, ever agreeable. “I’ll put it another way. Your date Saturday night wasn’t all you hoped and dreamed it would be.”
“To say the least.” Its hopes, disappointments and unexpected turns had left her hotter and more restless than ever.
